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[...] The sun was now low enough on the horizon that it could be looked at, and Rhane contemplated the silhouette of the city it outlined. The river splitting in two around a rocky eyot with a singular fort perched atop. The high walls separating the various roofs and spires from a sea of tilled fields. The great Khorim mountains far off in the distance, impressive up close as he previously had the chance to see, but not as tall and majestic as the lone peak the city of Asumar was buttressed against.

Rhane was sprawled on the bed, one arm extended towards the window, in one of those cosy velvet rooms he had grown too accustomed to. The orangish tint of the remaining daylight gave a nice glow to the orc's otherwise pale brown, almost grey skin. The air was hot, and the open door to the terrace did little to help.

Rhane's golden eyes caught sight of a bird, and followed as it fluttered through the reddening sky and settled on the roof of a temple. The same temple he had not visited for over a month. The temple of the deity he couldn't bring himself to pray to anymore, the little shrine in his bedroom now dusty, its offerings wilted and gone to be sure.

The orc's train of thoughts was interrupted by the clearing of a dragon's throat above him, followed by a smooth, deep voice: "Is everything all right?"

Rhane's stomach dropped and he began to feel his cheeks heat up from embarrassment. The dragon had not pulled out yet, but had stopped his motion to stare with concern at the orc, who did his best to maintain his composure.

"Yes... Yes, of course," he almost stammered. "I apologise, truly. I... allowed my mind to veer elsewhere." At the dragon's reaction, which he couldn't quite pinpoint whether it was irritation or chagrin, Rhane immediately attempted to reassure him: "It's me, it's my fault. You were doing great! Are doing great."

Rhane grimaced when he realised how patronising that came across. Noticing his client's hesitation, he decided to change positions in an effort to put him at ease. "Here," he said, guiding his partner along as they shifted, and straddling him as soon as he was on his back. When he settled on top of the dragon whose cock still occupied his hole, he raised his eyebrows intently, wordlessly asking his client for a signal.

The only answer he got was a similarly silent one, in the form of a hand caressing his side. The dragon closed his eyes, and Rhane started working himself up and down the girthy shaft.

And it was girthy, at least in comparison to most of the clients the orc had the pleasure to serve. Paying attention to the dragon's breathing, he tried to convey his pleasure a bit more, which wasn't an effort: the iconic ridges on the dragon's cock were always a treat to feel bump along one's insides, and these were no exception. A squeak escaped Rhane's lips when one of them latched onto his hole for a bit longer, before giving way to the cock and letting it slide in with a sudden and unusually forceful shove. The orc rolled his head back at the feeling, and let a deep moan end in a satisfied chuckle.

Rhane's eyes were shut, focusing his senses on all that was going on in his rear. But something was off. When Rhane began to wonder why the dragon wasn't following his movement as much, he heard his voice once more, making him open his eyes:

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid we... This isn't working for me. I'm sorry."

If Rhane's stomach had previously dropped to his intestines, it had now sunk to the bottom of the world. "Did you want to try another position?" but the dragon's only response was to gently pull him up from his cock and set him aside. Watching him get up from the bed and grab his underclothes, the orc snapped himself out of his daze and endeavoured to form a coherent phrase:

"Perhaps I can call for someone else to take my place? We offer a wide selection of escorts, I'm confident we can find a better pick for you."

In such situations, remaining professional in the face of such embarrassment was always difficult, especially when your client was not an asshole. The dragon answered with a small shake of the head paired with a polite smile, and grabbed his armour. Rhane gave an equally polite bow and stood there, hands crossed above the belt, waiting for the knight to put his armour back on.

His full armour.

It had taken a moment to take them off, and that was awkward enough. Now Rhane wasn't sure whether he should help or not, but the knight didn't seem to ask for it. In fact, he seemed to make an effort to avoid his eyes, and the orc hoped he was doing a better job at pretending not to do the same.

After an agonisingly long few minutes, the knight finished putting on the last piece of his beautifully adorned plate. Rhane opened the door to let him out.

"If you wish, I can accompany you to the reception and offer you a refund."

Unlike the ones he had offered Rhane during the past few minutes, the smile the dragon offered was a genuine and warm one. Heels glued together, he gave the slightest of bows to the orc.

"That won't be necessary. Thank you for your time."

He turned back and made his way down the corridor, at the other end of which Rhane caught sight of Idrin, just as the dragon walked by her. She turned to him, perplexed, and the orc instinctively put on a nonchalant look before closing the door, hoping she didn't notice his frustration. Free from the awkward situation, he closed his eyes. "Not the first time this week, you damn-"

Much like his thoughts earlier, his imminent mental flogging was interrupted, this time by a knock on the door. Instead of answering, Rhane stood still, shaking his head as if pleading to an external force. Perhaps the goddess he had not prayed to for weeks. When the door opened anyway, he quickly put away his irritation behind a collected face as he began to tidy up the bed.

"Hey," the fennec risked.

Rhane smiled in return. "Finished with your preparations?" he asked, in an attempt to delay the inevitable interrogation. To his relief, it seemed to work:

"Gods, no!" she chuckled, pushing the door partly closed. "We were so busy with the whole costume ordeal, we haven't even started on the main stage. But we have until Ruic, no sweat." A few seconds went by, that seemed to stretch longer and longer. "You?"

Rhane, still pretending to rearrange the sheets, was starting to struggle to find things to tidy up in a convincing way. "Hmm?" was all he could come up with to not sound as irritated as he really was.

"All good?"

From the expectant look on her face, the orc knew she wasn't going to humour any more attempts to defer the subject.

"Yeah, I, uh... yeah. It could have gone better."

"Do we need to report him?"

"No! No, it was me, I... I messed up."

"What did you do?" Rhane could read on the fennec's troubled face, which gave way to a suppressed hint of letdown as he recounted the previous scene. There was a silence afterwards, broken both by the shuffling of sheets in the orc's hands and Idrin scratching the side of her neck, as he'd seen her do when she was irked or frustrated.

"You know that was a knight of the Beryl Accord?" she eventually sighed.

Rhane had seen a few beryl knights in the streets of Asumar during his stay. They weren't that numerous, but they were easily recognisable by their blue and silver armour, which they rarely parted with in public. In fact, he had seen such a case for the first time only a few minutes ago.

Their organisation had deep-rooted history and tradition, some aspects of which a few members have been pushing to part with, in an attempt to modernise the order. Now, a knight individually coming to the Lyrical Drake was not out of the ordinary, but to show in full plate, bearing arms and all, was pretty much never seen.

In response to Idrin's slightly accusatory tone, Rhane held his first instinct to ask why he was sent such an important client his way, for it was this sort of self-deprecation that Idrin had tasked him to work on. Instead, he replaced the pillow in his hand with another as the fennec added:

"That could have done a lot of good for our image. Now it's not so certain they'll come back any time soon."

"I'm sorry... I'm aware this isn't the first time, but I'm trying. I really am."

"I know you are, I'm not blaming you. Just... This is shit. This whole thing is shit."

Surprised by her sudden agitation, Rhane looked at Idrin. This wasn't just disappointment, she was troubled. Finally giving the bedsheets some rest, he turned to her:

"I'm not making light of what my slip potentially cost us, and I do get the need to uphold the Lyrical Drake's reputation. But why is it so important to improve it? Are we not still the most prestigious brothel on the continent?"

He immediately winced as he said this, and Idrin turned to him with a livid glare. What he had just said wasn't wrong, but it was disregarding an important matter, and a very personal one at that. Her ghastly frown gave way to a polite smile that did nothing to make the following silence any less glacial.

For an instant Rhane thought she would burst, but after some hesitation she closed her mouth, and with a resigned look turned back, leaving Rhane profoundly regretting his words but not finding any that could fix them. In the doorway, she added:

"Pastel wants to speak with you. Seemed urgent. You should probably go see him before his shift ends."

The door closed. Rhane, left in the silence of the small room, went back to fixing the bed for about the fourth time by now, before sitting on it to contemplate the view once more. He knew what Pastel wanted from him, and he was in no rush to have that conversation.

The bird took off from the roof of the temple, as if scared away by a sudden sound or presence, towards the sun that was now threatening to disappear behind the horizon. [...]