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35. SHK Special chapter: Surprise
🕑 Added 2025-11-29 02:10:50 +0000 UTC(AN: This one happened just after Sol's discussion with Clara. The night before, he went to get his wedding suit.)
Sol had barely finished his communication with Clara when he heard a soft knock at his office door.
"Come in," he called out, already knowing who it was. There was little that could escape his senses in the Tower nowadays.
The door opened, and two figures slipped inside. Nent entered first, her crimson hair cascading over her shoulders, her amber eyes gleaming with barely-contained mischief. Behind her, Nefertiti followed with a more demure expression, though the slight upturn of her lips betrayed her own anticipation.
"My Lord Husband," Nefertiti greeted with a graceful curtsy, her voice soft as silk.
"Sol," Nent purred, far less formal, as she moved to perch on the edge of his desk with the casual confidence of someone who had long ago stopped caring about propriety. " Drowning in paperwork, despite waking up not long ago. How dreadfully boring."
Sol leaned back in his chair, a smile tugging at his lips despite his best efforts to maintain some semblance of kingly dignity. "Nent. Nefertiti. To what do I owe the pleasure? Nothing diplomatic, I hope. As you can see, I am swamped."
"Oh, it's diplomatic," Nent said, examining her nails with exaggerated nonchalance. "Very diplomatic. We're here to negotiate the terms of your... evening activities."
Nefertiti's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, but she didn't contradict her Nent. Instead, she moved closer, her soft pink eyes meeting Sol's with an intensity that made his breath catch.
"We wanted to celebrate," Nefertiti said quietly. "My ascension to King rank. Your recovery. The fact that we're all still alive despite everything trying to kill us."
"And," Nent added with a wicked grin, "we thought you could use a distraction from all those tedious budget reports and noble complaints."
Sol raised an eyebrow. "A distraction?"
"A reprieve," Nefertiti corrected gently, though her eyes sparkled with the same mischief as Nent's. "You've been working yourself to exhaustion, my Lord. Even kings need to rest."
"And we happen to know the perfect way to help you relax," Nent finished, sliding off the desk and extending her hand toward him. "So, be a dear and come with us to your room. We have a surprise prepared."
Sol glanced at the remaining documents on his desk—reports on agricultural yields, military deployments, and a particularly dense analysis of trade routes—and then back at the two phoenixes standing before him. The choice was laughably easy.
"Lead the way," he said, standing and taking Nent's offered hand.
As they walked through the corridors of the Tower of Babel, Nefertiti fell into step on his other side, her arm linking through his. The three of them moved in comfortable silence for a moment before Sol spoke.
"How are things progressing with the doctrines?"
"Smoothly," Nefertiti replied. "We've drafted several core tenets that emphasize devotion without demanding mindless servitude. The goal is to inspire genuine faith, not coerce it."
"Camelia has been helpful," Nent added. "Her experience as a former Blessed gives her unique insights into what resonates with believers. Though I must say, watching her and Nefertiti collaborate is... interesting. Two women who embody servitude in completely different ways."
Sol chuckled. "I'm surprised you two haven't driven each other mad yet."
"Oh, we have our moments," Nefertiti admitted with a small smile. "But we both want the same thing—your success. That makes collaboration easier."
As they turned down another corridor, Nent suddenly paused and tilted her head, as if thinking about a fun joke. A slow, wicked smile spread across her face.
"Well, well," she murmured. "Hello, Kiyohime. I am sure you are sulking in Sol's dimension from here."
Kiyohime was a dragon, and she still did not have official permission to step on Lustburg territory. This was why she could only stay in his dimension currently.
Sol felt a pulse of indignation through his connection to the pocket dimension where Kiyohime resided. The dragon's presence flared with irritation, though she remained silent.
"Nent," Sol warned, though there was no real heat in his voice. "Don't antagonize her."
"I'm not antagonizing," Nent said innocently. "I'm merely teasing her. It's not my fault she's trapped in there because of those pesky rules about Astral Realm beings interfering in mortal affairs. She should complain to Asmodeus."
Sol laughed. He could practically feel Kiyohime's eyes blazing with fury from within his dimension.
"You know," Nent mused, "if you asked nicely, Kiyohime, I might consider putting in a good word with Gabriel. She does have some sway over the restrictions. Not that I'm promising anything, of course."
Nefertiti sighed softly. "Nent, perhaps we should focus on the present? We did have plans for this evening."
"Mmm, you're right," Nent agreed, though her smile remained. "Don't worry, Kiyohime. I'm sure Sol will let you out to play eventually. Try not to freeze anything important while you watch."
The responding growl that echoed through Sol's dimension made him wince. He made a mental note to spend some quality time with Kiyohime soon—preferably before she decided to destroy her surroundings out of sheer frustration.
He could have simply brought Nent and Nefertiti to his dimension. But not all moments should be shared with everyone. Nent and Nefertiti had something prepared, and he would let them act.
They reached the door to Sol's private chambers, and Nent turned to face him, her expression shifting from playful to something more... predatory.
"Now then," she said, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. "Before we go in, you need to follow a few simple rules."
Sol raised an eyebrow. "Rules?"
"Close your eyes," Nefertiti instructed, her own voice taking on a breathy quality that sent a shiver down his spine. "And no using your domain to peek. This is a surprise, my Lord. Let us maintain the suspense."
It was very rare for Nefertiti to speak in such a somewhat commanding way to Sol. He widened his eyes for an instant, but then his anticipation soared through the roof.
"You want me to walk blind into my own room?" Sol asked, amused despite himself.
"We'll guide you," Nent assured him, already moving behind him to place her hands over his eyes. Her palms were warm against his skin, and he could feel the faint crackle of her lightning affinity dancing across her fingertips. "Trust us."
Sol could have resisted. Could have used any number of abilities to see through their little game. But where was the fun in that?
"Alright," he said, allowing his eyes to close. "I'm in your hands."
"Good boy," Nent whispered against his ear, her breath hot enough to make him suppress a shudder.
He heard the door open, then felt Nent's hands gently guiding him forward. Nefertiti's smaller hand took his, her fingers intertwining with his as she led him carefully into the room.
"Just a few more steps," she murmured.
The air in his chambers felt different—warmer, perhaps, and carrying a scent he couldn't quite place. Something sweet and exotic. Fighting the almost instinctual urge to scan everything with his domain was only possible because he did not wish to disappoint his women.
Finally, they stopped.
"Stay here," Nent commanded, releasing his eyes. "Keep them closed until we tell you to open them."
"Don’t cheat," Nefertiti added, her voice already more distant as she moved away from him.
Sol heard the rustle of fabric, the soft pad of bare feet on marble, the whisper of something being adjusted. His heightened senses picked up every subtle sound, painting a picture his eyes couldn't see. He could already somewhat guess what was happening. But this did not stop his excitement from rising.
Finally, Nent spoke. "Start counting until ten."
"One," Sol said obediently. "Two. Three..."
More rustling. A soft laugh from Nefertiti, quickly stifled. The gentle clink of jewelry.
"Four. Five. Six..."
He could feel their presence in the room, two distinct sources of warmth and power. Nent's wild, crackling energy like a summer storm. Nefertiti's softer, steadier glow like the first light of dawn.
"Seven. Eight. Nine..."
The anticipation was almost unbearable. His heart rate had increased despite his best efforts to remain calm, and he was acutely aware of every sensation.
"Ten."
"Open your eyes, my Lord," Nefertiti's voice came from somewhere ahead of him, soft and inviting.
Sol opened his eyes.
And forgot how to breathe.
The room had been transformed. Dozens of candles cast a warm, flickering glow across every surface. Sheer curtains had been hung from the ceiling, creating the illusion of a sultan's tent, the fabric dyed in deep crimsons and golds that seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. The scent he'd noticed earlier was stronger now—jasmine and sandalwood, heady and intoxicating.
But none of that mattered.
Because standing in the center of the room, bathed in golden candlelight, were Nent and Nefertiti.
They wore dancers' garments—the kind worn by courtesans in the tales of the Thousand and One Nights, designed not to conceal but to tantalize. The fabric was so sheer it was almost transparent. Silk that caught the light and seemed to glow against their rich, brown skin.
Nent's outfit was a deep crimson that matched her hair. The bodice consisted of delicate chains of gold that draped across her chest, supporting thin panels of translucent silk that did absolutely nothing to hide the curves beneath.
The fabric clung to her like a second skin, revealing the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips. A matching skirt hung low on her hips, split high on both sides to expose the long, toned length of her legs with every subtle shift of her weight. Golden anklets caught the candlelight as she moved, and a jeweled pendant rested in the valley of her cleavage, drawing the eye inevitably downward.
Her arms were adorned with delicate golden bands, and her crimson hair had been arranged in an elaborate style, held in place by jeweled pins. But it was her eyes that truly captivated. They were fixed on Sol with an intensity that promised both pleasure and danger.
Nefertiti's ensemble was softer, more innocent in appearance, but no less devastating in effect. She wore white and gold, the colors of purity and divinity, though there was nothing pure about the way the fabric clung to her slender form.
The white silk was so fine that it seemed to melt into her brown skin, creating an illusion of bare flesh. Golden chains wrapped around her waist and chest, connecting to sheer panels that draped over her modest breasts and down her flat stomach, the fabric so thin that Sol could see the shadows of her body beneath.
Her skirt was a waterfall of white silk that pooled around her feet, but strategic slits revealed glimpses of her legs when she moved. A golden chain circled her hips, from which hung delicate golden coins that chimed softly with her breathing. Her hair, usually worn simply, had been styled with golden flowers woven through the strands, and her soft eyes watched him with a mixture of shyness and desire.
Both women wore veils that covered the lower halves of their faces but did nothing to hide their expressions. If anything, the veils made them more alluring.
They stood together like living art, like goddesses descended from myth, their brown skin luminous in the candlelight, every curve and line of their bodies visible through the impossibly thin fabric.
Sol's mouth went dry.
"I..." he started, then had to clear his throat and try again. "I think I've forgotten how to speak."
Nent's smile was pure wickedness. "Good. That was the intended effect."
She moved first, her hips swaying with each step, the golden chains she wore chiming softly.
Nefertiti followed, her movements more hesitant but no less graceful. Where Nent moved with the confidence of a predator, Nefertiti moved like a flower swaying in the breeze—delicate, beautiful, and utterly captivating.
"We thought," Nefertiti said softly, her voice slightly muffled by the veil, "that you deserved something special and the Witch of Life proved to have a very interesting collection of clothes."
"The mortal realm has its tedious aspects," Nent added, circling him slowly like a cat circling its prey. "But it also has its pleasures. And we intend to remind you of every single one tonight."
Sol watched them, his heart pounding in his chest. If Persephone were here, he would have kissed her until she fainted. Her collection of cosplay was constantly proving how invaluable it was.
"You two are trying to kill me," he managed to say, his voice rough.
"Not kill," Nefertiti corrected, stepping closer until he could see the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, "Just... overwhelm you with pleasure."
Sol swallowed hard. "I should probably mention that I have a wedding in two days."
"Then you'd better save your strength," Nent purred against his ear. "Because we're going to make sure these next few hours are... unforgettable."
Her hands slid over his shoulders, while Nefertiti reached up to begin unfastening the buttons of his shirt with reverence and respect.
"My Lord," Nefertiti murmured, her eyes meeting his. "Tonight, let us take care of you. Simply enjoy and leave everything to us."
"Let us remind you," Nent added, her voice a sultry whisper, "How sensual creatures of purity can be."
The candlelight flickered.
The night was young.
And it promised to be very, very long.
Comments
Tracer999
Sensual and creatures of purity do not belong in the same sentence man Gabriel might have to swap places with Asmodeus in the future if her descendants keep this up. Also with regards to illustrations who's next?
