The next party at the lakeside palace is a quarter-moon day, the eighth of Amber. But the staff are available to take applications any evening of the week, and when she shows up they welcome her to the capital and authorize her to claim a spot at the party, and a room in the palace beforehand if she needs a place to stay.

Ooh! A place to stay would be lovely.

Well, they have this lovely lakeside palace whose entire purpose is to make these parties happen, and she is free to stay there if she likes. Of course, being a guest of the palace comes with all the same warnings even outside of the parties themselves; but the Emperor almost never shows up on an off day, so she'll probably be safe until the quarter-moon.

She'll take her probably. Palace! Loveliness! 

It is an exquisitely lovely palace. All the northwest-facing windows have a gorgeous view of the city, all the south-facing windows have a gorgeous view of the lake, all the west-facing windows have a gorgeous view of the mountains, the decor is stunning, the staff is helpful and polite, and the food is nationally renowned.

There's just the one problem, really.

But, well, he probably won't visit during the week. Probably won't even come to the quarter-moon party. He often doesn't.

And even if he does come to the party, there will be plenty of other pretty people around to choose from. Her odds are good. She's not really stressed out about it. If he does show up, she can be scared then.

The week goes by; the day of the party arrives. Other guests trickle in as the shadows slide across the floor from morning into afternoon. The only thing they all have in common is that they're well-dressed and attractive; if you can't manage the well-dressed part by yourself, the palace staff are available to help out. There is music, and dancing, and even more delicious food. Afternoon fades into evening, and it's at that point that people begin to worry.

She lets the ambient tension in the room carry her own nerves along with it. Wouldn't do to stand out if he does show up, after all.

There are entertainers on staff, musicians and dancers and poets and other assorted professionals whose job it is to make sure that the guests can relax and have a good time if at all possible. In the main banquet hall there is food and drink and dancing; other areas of the palace have other entertainments to offer.

He probably won't show up, even now. Probably. Rumours among the other guests suggest that it's been a while since he last visited, but even so, any given night isn't likely to be the one that sees him.

She has a lovely time, nerves and all. The food is delicious, the drink is superb, and the dancing is divine. The nerves are nice, actually, bubbling together with the wine in her stomach to give her a delightfully high-strung sensation that goes marvelously with the excitement of fast-paced dances. 

When the music changes to a slower tune, then, she retires from the dance floor for the moment, face flushed and breathing hard from the exertion. She considers the--other amenities--and decides against, leaning against the wall and enjoying watching the dancers and biting her lip to keep from giggling as though far more inebriated than her mildly tipsy state.

And then—

At the far end of the hall, there is a set of wide double doors leading out onto a rooftop garden that overlooks the lake. They've been standing open since sunset, with curtains in the doorway to discourage the breeze.

A shadow descends from the sky, landing in the garden in a swirl of smoke and cinders. The curtains blow inward on a wind driven by vast black wings, carrying the scent of unearthly fire into the room.

Everyone freezes. The curtains settle back into place, and people gradually resume whatever they were doing, first the staff and then a few of the guests. The atmosphere as the Emperor finally walks in is hushed but not silent, wary but not terrified.

If he had wings when he landed, he doesn't now. He is tall and beautiful and graceful, dressed in rich fabrics and dark colours, and there's no mistaking him for a mere guest even though nothing about him is definitely inhuman. He moves with the kind of confidence appropriate to an immortal godlike figure who has ruled the world unopposed for thousands of years.

Oh no he's hot.

If anyone else is reacting similarly, they're very good at hiding it.

He makes his way across the room, examining guests as he passes them. (The staff, of course, are safe.) A few people shrink back or turn away, and he lets them, for now. There will be time to come back for them later if he likes.

She is far too scared and turned on both to move a muscle. 

He pauses in front of her, studying her thoughtfully; it's the most direct attention he's given to any one guest so far.

Her heart rate picks up. Is she hyperventilating? She's probably hyperventilating. She is, distantly, glad that she's frozen in place; none of the things it can even vaguely occur to her to do are remotely good ideas.

"What's your name, dear?"

"H-H-Hazaira."

"What a lovely name." He reaches out and runs his fingertips down the side of her face. "Pleased to meet you, Hazaira."

She bites her lip and makes a faint squeaky noise. 

He smiles slightly, and scoops her up into a bridal carry and turns and walks back out into the garden.

Fuck this is hot.

Also terrifying! 

But so, so hot. The way he can just pick her up, aaaaaaaaaah.

A cloak of black flame flows out from his shoulders, and he takes to the air and flies, carrying her with him. Travel by Emperor is dizzying, and smells like fire. The landscape swirls past in an unsettlingly nonlinear blur.

Then he lands, and his wings fade to dark smoky flickers and then to nothing at all, and before she has a chance to do more than glimpse the stunning view down the mountain he sets her on her feet and kisses her.

!!!!!!!!!!!

Mmmmm.

Whimper.

What a tasty little treat she is.

His kisses are casually forceful, but in a gentle sort of way - as though he would find it effortless to crush her in his arms, but finds it nearly that effortless to restrain his strength so that it accomplishes only what he wants, holding her without hurting her. When his hand tightens painfully on the back of her neck, there is nothing accidental about the change.

Ohhhhhhhhhh.

She starts squirming, not sure if she's unconsciously trying to get away or closer. 

He pauses briefly to tear her dress off her body; it falls around her in bright sparkling scraps, and he picks her up and carries her across this beautiful stone balcony to shove her against the wall of his castle and fuck her.

Oh.

Oh it's good.

She tries to muffle her whines, with limited success; she tries not to come, with no success at all. 

She's lovely.

It's over pretty quickly, but instead of putting her down, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her away from the wall and kisses the side of her neck. At some point his clothes have gone away. The chill mountain breeze tugs at her hair, but the Emperor's skin is warm.

Mmm that's nice. She curls up a little into him.

Nuzzle.

"You seem happier with your situation than most of my guests are at this point," he observes, shifting his grip to hold her with one arm so he can use the other hand to pet her hair.

"Well, you haven't tortured me yet."

"I could change that."

She shivers. "I know you could, your Majesty."

He runs his hand through her hair and then kisses her again.

This time she kisses back.

It's nice.

It is. Fuck he's hot.

He carries her into the castle, which is gorgeous, and down a gorgeous hallway and into a gorgeous bedroom and onto the gorgeous bed, where he pins her down with his mouth on her throat and his hand between her legs.

"Oh."

He would like to see just how into this she gets.

The answer to his question is very.

Is it now.

It is.

He spends a long while investigating this question, kissing her and touching her and listening to the lovely sounds she makes. Her pleasure is beautiful, and he wants more of it.

What an excellent plan. He can have more of it. He can have a lot of it.

Eventually, he fucks her again, but this time he is very much focused on finding out what things she likes and then doing all of them.

Mmmmmm.

She likes it when he's rough with her. She likes feeling how incredibly strong he is. 

How convenient; he likes those things too.

Yes. Good. Excellent.

She's perfect.

He sprawls on the bed, afterward, and gathers her into his arms for snuggles and petting and long lazy kisses.

These are excellent things and she relaxes snugglesomely in his arms and kisses him languidly. 

Mmmmmmmm.

"You're very sweet," he says, stroking her hair.

"Thank you."

Kiss.

"Aren't you afraid I'll hurt you?"

She kisses him and considers this.

"Being afraid of what you might do sounds like a lot less fun than enjoying what you are doing."

"Hmm."

He pets her hair, and then kisses the side of her neck and bites hard enough to draw blood.

She jerks and makes a noise. 

Oh? What manner of noise, exactly?

It's kind of ambiguous between pain and pleasure. The look on her face, however, is not.

Well then.

"Do you want me to hurt you?" he wonders, running his fingers through her hair.

"I don't know."

"Seems like the sort of thing you might have an idea about." Pet pet.

"--I liked it when you bit me, but I don't like--stubbing toes or getting hair caught in things--and. If the rumors about you are even a little true I imagine I've never hurt as much as you'd be liable to hurt me."

"You probably haven't," he agrees.

She notes that he is not hurting her right this minute and goes back to snuggling him.

He kisses her some more, and pets her hair and strokes her cheek and hums thoughtfully.

"I think I'd like to find out how you like to be hurt," he says.

"Okay."

Kiss.

"Suggestions?"

Headshake.

"I like--that you're so strong, that you can do whatever you want and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Mm. It's true, I can."

He kisses her again, then trails his mouth down the side of her neck, over the bite and down to her shoulder. When he kisses her there, his teeth and tongue are hot enough to leave blisters.

She screams.

He bites down gently on the burn, then stops and waits to see what she thinks.

She curls up, breathing hard with the pain.

But once she's got her wits about her enough to calm down, she kisses him. 

Oh, that's a good reaction. He likes that reaction. Laughing softly, he kisses back.

Mmmm yes good.

After a suitable interval of kisses, he drags his mouth down to her collarbone, and this time makes it cold enough to burn.

She screams some more. 

He again pauses for comment.

"I think I like it when you hurt me."

What a good comment!

"Glad to hear it," he says, and kisses her.

She kisses back with enthusiasm. 

He trails his fingers over her body, leaving burns or bruises wherever the whim strikes.

Well, okay, if he wants her too distracted to kiss back.

Mm, that just means that in addition to getting his hands all over her he can now do the same with his mouth.

Yes. Good. Excellent.

If he keeps this up long enough her voice is going to give out from screaming. 

That's fun. He heals her voice—just her voice—and holds her down and fucks her violently while she's still covered in burns.

More screaming. Plenty more screaming. Also orgasms.

Then he curls up next to her and heals all the rest of her injuries and pets her some more.

Mmm yes cozy good.

Snuggle snuggle kiss.

Lazy snuggly cozy kiss.

What a good sort of kiss this is.

It is. Would he like a pretty woman melting contentedly in his arms because he has one. 

He would! He would like that very much!

Good. 

Mmmmm she's so cozy.

She is. 

He might just have a cozy nap.

Awwwwww.

He cuddles her in his sleep.

Aw! Aw! Why is he cute.

We just don't know!

She snuggles up and closes her eyes, shortly joining him in napland. 

When he wakes up, he kisses the side of her neck, because she is lovely and kissable.

She makes a small happy noise and snuggles closer in her sleep. 

Aww. Aww.

Serves him right for being cute at her first.

Well—well—

He wraps his arms around her and nuzzles her cheek, because she is so cute and cozy and good.

Her eyes flutter open slightly and she gives a sleepy happy sigh.

Snuggle, snuggle snuggle.

"This turned out so much better than I was expecting," she mumbles.

He laughs. "I'll bet. What were you expecting?"

"I expected a good payout, a nice party and some fancy clothes! I wasn't expecting you to show up at all, let alone notice me, let alone notice me and not make me regret it."

"I do usually make my guests regret it." Pet pet. "But you're sweet and you like to be hurt and that's uncommon enough that I'm not going to throw it away on a whim."

"Oh, I am glad I turned out to like it when you hurt me," she sighs, leaning into the petting. 

"It's nice!" Snuggle.

"It issss. You're so strong."

"Mmhmmm." Nuzzle.

Oh yeah? Well then she will just have to nuzzle back. 

He kisses her.

Mmmmmmmmm.

She's just so kissable!

He decides now is a good time to find out what she thinks of having her wrists pinned down and then crushed.

Screaming appears to be what she thinks. 

What good screaming! She's such a treasure. Time to break some more bones.

After the third one the screaming gives way to sobbing. 

Mmmm, what if he fucks her like this, what then.

More sobbing. Also some thrashing. 

Afterward he heals her and cuddles her some more.

She cries limply for a little while longer before snuggling up. 

Pet pet. "You all right?"

"Mhm."

"Oh good." Kiss.

Mmmmmmmm.

Mmmmm she's so pretty and soft and kissable and good.

Also squirmily snugglesome. 

Ooh, squirming.

Mmmmhm.

Well then maybe he should hold her down and fuck her some more, and this time leave burns everywhere they touch.

Scream time.

Scream time is such a good time! And she looks so lovely covered in charred handprints. He bites her shoulder, kisses her neck, pins her thighs apart with burning hands and fucks her full of blisters.

She screams and weeps and struggles fruitlessly.

And then he heals her and pets her hair and kisses her cheek and curls up for more snuggles.

She keeps crying for longer this time before relaxing and snuggling up.

"You're very pretty when you cry."

"Thank you."

Pet pet.

She curls in to the pettings. 

Cozy!

Cozy snuggly afterglowy warm

cozy soft snuggly warm good!!!

Yesssssss

She's so pretty.

Even when she isn't grievously injured!

Even then!

"The burning thing was inspired."

He laughs. "Thank you!"

"Being painfully ra--fucked is fun but I hadn't imagined it could be the actual intercourse that hurt that much."

Nuzzle. "Well, I'm glad you liked it."

"Well I am glad you're creative and snuggly. So there." She sticks her tongue out at him. 

He laughs and kisses her on the cheek.

"And you're cute! Why is the Emperor cute???"

"Why not?"

"You don't exactly cultivate a reputation for it! --For that matter no one warned me you were hot. I'm actually kind of irked about that one, I should have been warned."

"People are strangely offended if the staff try to mention it."

Giggle. "Really? It feels like the kind of thing that would be useful to know!"

"I think the complaint is that if someone is reluctantly attending my parties because they need money, I'm the last thing they want to be thinking about and learning that I'm good-looking just makes them uncomfortable."

"I mean, absent the 'reluctant' part, that's why I went, and oh look, you showed up."

"The 'reluctant' part is why they don't want to think about me!"

"But if they don't think about you they're worse off if you do show up!"

"Are they, though?"

"I know I would have preferred to know you were hot!" Kiss. 

Mmm, kiss.

"I think you're different from most people that way!"

"I suppose so. Certainly if someone had tried to warn me you were cute I doubt I'd have believed them." Kiss. 

Snuggle. "Yeah. I'm pretty surprising."

"You aaaaarrrrrre." She reaches down to her inner thighs and brings her hand away wet. "For one thing, post-coital fluids don't usually come from the water of blisters that you made and ruptured with your cock."

He laughs. "I've never been admired for that one before!"

"Is it really that odd in the context where I'm already snuggling and kissing you instead of curled up in the farthest corner you'll let me desperately hoping for as much of a reprieve as possible?"

"It's less surprising than it could be, but it's still new."

"Mm, fair enough." Nuzzle. 

Snuggle.

"Cuuuuuuuute," she sighs at the look on his face. 

He giggles and kisses her.

Kiss!!!

Mmmkiss.

She practically melts in his arms. 

"You know, I really appreciate how much fun you're having." Kiss. "I bet you do too."

"That is how fun is generally considered to work." Kiss. 

"I was going to say that you could've been having a lot less fun, but now I'm not entirely sure that's true."

"Oh?"

Kiss. "Maybe you're just going to like whatever I do to you."

Kiss. "Maybe. I guess we'll just have to find out."

He laughs and hugs her, nuzzling the side of her neck.

That is a good place to be nuzzled! She makes a pleased chirping noise. 

—he starts giggling.

"Hm?"

"You made a cute noise!"

"Mm." Nuzzle. 

Nuzzle.

"Anyway, you're one to talk, you started it with the cuteness."

"Did I?"

"Yes. --Although I suppose I can't blame you for failing to notice how cute you were when asleep."

Snort.

"I promise you, you're very cute when you're snuggled up and napping."

Nuzzle. "Well, I have no reason not to believe you. Really, though?"

"Really!"

He chuckles.

—and then the walls of the castle begin humming a deep note, not especially loud but very omnipresent, and he frowns slightly. "Nobody's rung that bell in a century, what the fuck could possibly have happened...? I'd better go find out."

"That bell?"

"It's the emergency bell; it's for when something is happening so urgently that someone not only needs my attention but needs it faster than they could send someone up the mountain to ask."

He kisses her forehead.

"I'll be back soon, I hope. Feel free to wander the castle in my absence."

"...Okay. Good luck." She presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

He smiles distractedly and ruffles her hair and walks out of the room.

The magic behind the bell tells him where to look: southeast, not too far from the tail end of the mountain range. He stops the sound now that it's alerted him, and takes off and flies.

This quiet little town is on rather more fire than it was when he saw it last!

The main square is littered with broken, bleeding bodies, some of them still moving. A literal trail of blood leads up the steps of the town hall and through its splintered doors.

With an increasingly deep frown, he lands and heals a few people in passing. One of the survivors is badly-off enough that he picks her up and carries her with him; healing is easier at close range, and she needs more than a quarter second of his attention.

She doesn't seem to notice who he is, whimpering and curling up into him.

Up the steps and into the town hall they go.

The blood trail continues through the wreckage of the front hall, past several more bodies in such a state of disrepair that it's not fully clear exactly how many people make up the mess.

As they approach the mayor's office, which still has a mostly-intact door hanging crookedly from its hinges, some... sounds... begin to be audible. Flesh tearing, muffled whimpers. Not all that unfamiliar to Tazirae, really.

He opens the door and steps through, still carrying his rescued girl in one arm.

The room has been converted from an administrative office to some sort of dimly lit torture boudoir. Improbable instruments lie scattered across the floor. A woman with golden talons, cherry-red skin, and large batlike wings reclines on a couch under a former window that has been sealed with conjured stone; meanwhile, on a sort of low oval bed in the middle of the room, a man of a similar kind is raping one of the townsfolk to death.

Tazirae's rescued girl flinches and whimpers and shrinks into Tazirae some more. 

Well. That's - really hot, first of all, but also pretty inconvenient. He heals the woman on the floor, and raises his eyebrows at the woman by the window.

"You must be the Emperor," she says. "I've heard such interesting things about you."

"I'd say 'pleased to meet you' but I'm really not," says the Emperor. "Who are you, where did you come from, and what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Nesifra, Queen of Shadow Mountain; my brother Sovarith, the King; and since we appeared here abruptly with no idea of how we arrived or even particularly of where 'here' is, we thought we'd make ourselves at home while we awaited more information. I don't suppose you have anything to say on the subject?"

"I didn't bring you here, if that's what you mean."

(Meanwhile, now that she is no longer actively dying, the woman on the floor seems... really into this?)

"...Why is today, specifically the day of girls who like getting fucked half to death?" he wonders aloud.

"Ooh, have you got another one?" says Sovarith.

"Yes, but you'll have a hard time convincing me to share."

"I'll share mine," he offers.

She whimpers conflictedly.