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The dragon in me is beautiful too. He is golden and winged and his eyes sparkle with amethyst brilliance, but he can breathe fire. Lisette felt the heat of the flames from my nostrils, nevertheless, gently ran her hand through my curls.
“It is like gold!” She said. “To attract a girl you don’t need to use religion like a witchcraft ritual at all.”
But to attract a girl, I had to drink from the cup. So, according to Augustine’s followers, it’s called blood communion. It was just one sip to forget Rose and rekindle my passion for other women. And then the cup was thrown away and Lisette was in my arms. And it didn’t matter that the bas-reliefs on the bowl groaned and moved, and the dragon in the mirror hissed furiously.
Heart in the fire
How strange it was that I fell asleep in a girl’s arms and woke up in a bed showered with ashes. Did I burn something in the night? I don’t remember! In fact, Lisette herself is as good as gone. I don’t remember girls leaving me so quickly. Usually they want to get to know each other. Besides, it’s her house, not mine.
There was a suspicious amount of ash on the sheets. It scattered in clumps under my palms, swirling in the air like black snowfall. Something had definitely burned during the night. But what was it? Was it maybe the canopy? It had burnt holes in places, but the frame itself was intact.
Where’s Lisette?
Particles of ash settled on the tea tray, on the dressing table, on the nightstands, but the room was empty. There was no one hiding in the drawers of the dresser. I kept waiting for a gremlin to pop out of them. In case I was with Rose, that’s what would happen. But this was Lisette’s bedroom, the mortal girl. She didn’t have gremlins.
But down the hall, I noticed cages of colorful parrots. I’d have to ask them where the lady of the house had gone so early. I got up, dressed, and went downstairs. There were no servants to be seen, but the parrots were very happy that someone understood their speech. I understood the language of all animals and beasts, so I could have a long conversation with the brightly colored birds. The parrots turned out to be avid talkers. They reported to me everything that happened in the house and all the lovers the mistress had taken before me. On the subject of the latter they were fond of gloating. But as for the mistress herself, my curiosity as to her whereabouts puzzled them.
“She hasn’t come out yet,” admitted a large parrot with a red crest.
“What do you mean, she hasn’t come out?” She couldn’t have flown out the window. “Surely your mistress is not a magician?”
The parrot almost laughed in his hoarse bird tongue.
“We haven’t seen her since last night,” the other parrots replied politely. “She must be somewhere in the house?”
“Are there no hiding places?”
They shook their colorful heads in the negative.
“All right, I’ll come back and look for her later,” I had no intention of playing hide-and-seek with Lisette. There were plenty of other charming ladies besides her. I didn’t like silly games.
On my way out, I came upon a strange man who was on duty at the fountain, looking at Lisette’s window and making a quick charcoal sketch in a blank sketchbook. An artist! I tried not to socialize with artists after my failed relationship with Marcel. I was still drawn to them, though. I found it kind of magical how they create a drawing out of nothing. All they have in front of them is a blank sheet of paper on which an image gradually emerges. And they don’t need magic to do it. I secretly respected painters. Their talent for drawing was akin to my gift of sorcery.
So when the stranger said hello to me, I returned the greeting. Although everyone knows it’s not customary to greet strangers as if they were longtime friends. But he acted as if he had known me for a long time. He was wearing a long crimson cloak with a silver braid. It was fastened at the shoulder by a buckle in the shape of a manticore. I’ve seen one of these buckles somewhere before.
“I know a wonderful shop nearby that sells beautiful urns and chests for ashes,” he said, pointing with a lump of charcoal to the left.
“And you think I need them?” I wondered if he was mocking me.
“I thought one of the fire fairy urns would be for Mistress Lisette,” the guy looked confused that I didn’t understand him. But I never discussed any purchases with anyone.
“Why would you think that?” I grinned and walked on by. If Lisette was going to buy something outlandish, that was her business. I had enough urns, vases, amphorae, and fortress-shaped chests in my castle, so I wasn’t intrigued by a shabby shop where a suspiciously troll-like creature was selling pottery. Yes, the urns were molded with faces and figures of fairies, gorgons, firewomen, nymphs, and mermaids, but it was nothing unusual to me. Only one vase caught my eye for a moment. On its sides stretched in bas-relief a whole circle of magical creatures. And they were all exclusively female. As if there were no men among us. All these intricate things are clearly made by an admirer of female beauty.
The troll-like and gruff salesman, who noticed me through the window, suddenly took off his hat and bowed low to me. I was able to get a good look at his bald head with its huge ears. A troll indeed! All the things he traded must have been stolen from somewhere, or he must have collected them from the wreckage of estates that had been looted. My subjects liked to be naughty, even though I forbade it. But I didn’t care about prohibitions or laws now. I had other things on my mind. So I walked past the troll without giving him a comment or warning for the future in the form of a fiery sigh that could burn the floor of the shop. Let him go on with his trade. As long as he doesn’t cross me, I’ll leave him alone. I don’t care where he got it.
I was busy looking for more beauties, and I was proud of the fact that I wasn’t looking for them to burn, rob, or throw them off a cliff. That’s how a dragon should behave. And in me again woke up the old prince, who was taught to treat ladies gallantly, and not to wring their necks with claws. In a word, I was looking for girlfriends for love pleasures, and filled myself with the thought that there would certainly be a lot of them. So many that I could forget Rose. And for that I would need a very long list and the girls would have to be one more beautiful than the other.
Somewhere nearby was a kingdom, I think it was called Tioria, whose recent ruler was so fond of ladies that his list of favorites was compared to a collection of jewels from a dragon’s treasury. It was said that he had more mistresses than there were jewels in the dragon’s treasury. I doubted that, because I couldn’t even count all my treasures myself. The magical talents of my spirit treasurers were not enough for that either. But the former king of Tioria had kind of gone broke on the ladies. The kingdom fell into disrepair. Parts of it became ruins and wastelands. I don’t know what happened there, but I certainly didn’t raid it. I used to scorch states to the ground. There’s still some of Tioria left. But the king himself is gone. The king’s castle is a ruin. What can women get you into? We must remember that king, lest we do the same to him. I wasn’t about to spend my fortune on pretty girls. It’s enough for me to have a little fun, to feel free to choose. Being Rose’s pet dragon isn’t very dignified for the emperor. Let her know she’s not the only one.
As soon as I saw the purple train in the streets, my heart shuddered. Could it be Rose wandering around the city and teasing me? Usually, she’s the only one who chooses such bright and luxurious fabrics. But mortals can’t afford them. It would take a pack of pixies or magic spinners to weave such a dress. But the girl turned around and it wasn’t Rose at all. Just a statuesque winged fairy who had come to the city, like me, looking for mortal fools to keep her company for the night and then serve her faithfully.
She caught my eye, and I almost went after her, but a lady passing in a carriage was even more attractive. I read in the groom’s mind that her name was Moriella, and she was going to the neighboring town of Foil, where the art of arms and the trade in silks and spices flourished. The cold northern sea is nearby, and Moriella’s father’s castle stands right on the shore. It’s worth a trip there at your leisure. I was sure that Moriella would be glad to see me, because in the thoughts of the same groomsmen I had read that she was married to an ugly old man and even went to some witch to help her to change her fate. A night with a dragon would do her good. Especially since the dragon can take on a young and beautiful appearance. Lovely girl! I’ll visit her for sure. But it is not now. I’ll wait till next night. In the meantime, there’s plenty of temptation in this city. I was dizzy from the variety of different beauties: dressmakers, cocottes, flower sellers, street theater actresses, bourgeois and noblewomen. I’ve lost count of the pretty faces.
Instead of going to Moriella’s the next night, I spent weeks in the same place. It was a shame that the pretty girls disappeared so quickly, and there was nothing but ash around. But they were always replaced by new ones. I was attracted to everyone, aristocrats and commoners alike. And they all began to be attracted to me at last. All young mortal girls are pretty. I like them all.
“How well I understand you in that,” a voice whispered from the void, and it wasn’t clear which side it was coming from, but it sounded like it was coming from everywhere. “I’m a fan of beauty, too. Only I strive to freeze beauty before old age destroys it, not to burn it, as you do. But we’re still very much alike. We’re like two sides of the same coin. You’re a dragon and I’m your shadow.”
I didn’t pay much attention to the whispers. Let it whisper. Even if he’s the one driving the girls away from me so quickly, I’m still glad he’s creating variety. After all, new girlfriends are taking the place of the tried-and-true. If it weren’t for the silly tradition of being faithful to Rose, I wouldn’t have been alone for a day in all eternity. The girls loved my good looks. Their fingers ran through my gold-colored hair, their eyes gazing lovingly at my angelic face. I had gotten used to how gently girls’ arms embraced me.
“Meanwhile, you’re scorching them,” that whisper again. It’s become intrusive. At another time I would have been wary, but now I was engrossed in another activity. I diligently brushed away the ashes that were still on my camisole, and looked for new encounters with strangers.
I visited elegant salons, boudoirs, bridal apartments, merchant’s houses, and even brothels. And the voice above me kept whispering:
“I understand you so much! I too, in my time, rushed after each of them. And none of them escaped me.”
I looked up, but there was no firefly following me. There were no translucent spirits around either. It was probably the unquiet soul of some maniac talking to me. I haven’t killed anyone myself right now. It’s nice to know that I’m no longer a murderer or arsonist, but just an adventurer. All nobles are like me. They are seeking pleasure, never missing a skirt. So why should I behave any differently?
If Rose had stayed with me, I wouldn’t have had to meet anyone. With her alone, I could spend every night in the arms of another beautiful lady. Each new body would just have her in it. Naturally after she left the used body, it would begin to rot and turn into a skeleton. Rose somehow never kept alive those whose bodies she used. She probably couldn’t enter their minds as long as they remained alive. I didn’t know much about her complex and pernicious magic. Every law I taught her, Rose had broken. That’s partly why we couldn’t stay together. We were a good match, though: I was a dragon and emperor of all evil, she was a princess and the daughter of a sorceress. At first we had a good deal on marriage and her coronation, but ever since Rose decided to dethrone me and keep all the power for herself, we’ve been in a black streak of trouble. That’s how all marriages fall apart; one wants love and the other wants profit.
It’s better to be a bachelor. That way there’s the least risk of getting attached to any one lady.
I didn’t want to be bound by a strong and sincere love anymore. It’s too painful. But it seemed I had sipped too much from the magic cup. No matter how much I walked around, the passion kept growing. A flame was burning inside. It protruded from my body, swirling at my fingertips. Whole tongues of fire were shooting out from under my fingernails into the night. They formed intricate symbols.
“He’s behind you!” whispered to me the spirits that dwelt in the flames. Their voices always sounded like the hissing of fire. I listened to them and turned around. There was no one behind me, of course. Someone had spread a rumor about a dragon raider in the city, and in the evenings people tried to keep their noses out of the street. As if locking inside could save them from the dragon! Yes, he would burn everyone at once, and everyone would burn in his own house.
I didn’t want to grieve and wander around the labyrinth of city streets. What for? If you remember the address of the hostess of the assembly, where you recently visited, it is a sin not to visit her. The closed doors didn’t bother me. I went straight through the third-floor window. And I didn’t have to climb up the chimney to do it. I just flew up.
Simonetta expected me to announce my arrival with a note, but I was already here. The stacks of love letters never sent to me didn’t matter anymore. One had fallen into my claws. Before, I would have come to run my claws down her throat, but now I wanted to know other things. Something I hadn’t wanted or known until now. I ran my fingers through her hair, the color of ripe wheat. It curled in small strands and ran down her back almost to her knees. Her eyebrows and eyelashes were golden, too. Amazing beauty! I pondered for just a moment whether or not she would feel the fire in my breath, and then I bent down and kissed her. Even if it hurt, she wanted it.
Excitement burned stronger than fire. And she was even more attracted to me than I was to her. That’s the way it usually is. Rose was an exception. But Simonetta was an ordinary woman, though as charming as a fine porcelain statuette. Her fingers in expensive rings slid down my chest, deftly unbuttoned my camisole. Apparently, I was no longer the first on her list of overnight guests. But I was the first to be a dragon.
“Who would give their life for one night with a dragon?” whispered the same annoying disembodied voice in my ear. “Not even my magical portraits were as willing to give their lives as your fiery embrace.”
He hissed something else angrily, but I wasn’t listening. Simonetta’s lips pressed against my ear. She, too, whispered fiercely to me something about how long she had waited for me, and what a bastard I was for not coming to her the first night we saw each other, and making her wait. She was all exhausted, for she had never wanted anyone so much as she wanted me, and so on and so forth. I had listened to all this love nonsense dozens of times, but I was still not satisfied. It was different with Simonetta than with the others. The embrace was passionate. The touch was filled with rare tenderness. I really thought what I had done in vain by not flying to her window from the beginning.
The disembodied voice above the hipped canopy was still squeaking resentfully, and on the wide, silk-sheeted bed our bodies were intertwined, moving toward each other. The act of love was glorious, only my fiery seed spewed into Simonetta, burning her from the inside out. She cried out, but I quickly muffled her scream with a long kiss.
I rose and began to dress long before dawn came. I couldn’t sleep in the arms of mortals. Once I’d had an orgasm with them, I didn’t want them anymore, and they suddenly began to slow down. Simonetta lazily rubbed the ashy stains on her wrists, as if her skin had burned from the inside out. There were traces of ash in her tangled long curls as well. Where did it come from? I didn’t set anything on fire, except by accident. Simonetta, too, looked so bewildered, as if she could not understand why, after a stormy night of love, she suddenly felt so bad.
As I left, I noticed a slight burn at the corner of her lips. I tried to be gentle, but I can’t control everything. The ointments and balms she was using, judging by the number of them on the dressing table, would do her good.
Someone whispered to me that I should linger to see the curious consequences of what I had done, but I was in a hurry to get to Foyle. Moriella is waiting for me there. Well, I hope she is. And even if she isn’t, it won’t be too hard to seduce the lonely poor thing. It’s those whose husbands or fiancés are old who seek comfort in the arms of lovers the most. And this was Moriella’s case.
I turned into a dragon and flew toward the coastal town of Foile. The sensation of someone watching my transformation through the window was far away near Simonetta’s house, and the cold waves were crashing beneath my wings in a matter of minutes. Jokingly, I exhaled a jet of fire directly into the sea. Before it was extinguished, it caught fire right on the water, easily burning the flocks of fish swimming on the surface. So I can make a fire in the sea if I try hard enough.
“Don’t, monsieur,” a mermaid squeaked pitifully from the depths. With a coral comb in her blue curls and blue eyebrows and eyelashes, she looked so pretty that I obeyed her. Maybe I’ll visit her someday at my leisure. But for now, my goal was Foile and Morietta’s father’s fortress. I reached the city in astonishing speed. Yes, it wasn’t far away. It was built on a small island. The sea surrounded it on all sides. There was a long bridge from the land to it, which was used by food carts and mail carriages. All other trade with the city was conducted by sea. The caravels and brigs in the harbor looked like fairy-tale rooks. There are good shipyards, talented craftsmen, and the city itself is beautiful, but I suddenly awoke the devil in me. Why not burn it down? Moriella’s being held prisoner here, and they want to marry someone they don’t love.
The mermaid had already hidden from me in the sea. It was just a glimpse of her tail, as blue as her curls. And I was already flying toward the city. Its pointed turrets and exquisite balustrades did not embarrass me. I breathed fire a couple times, and the fire was so hot that none of the archers on the wall had time to react. The sentry who struck the bells had both hands burned off. And the bell tower itself was on fire. I indifferently watched the fire from above, magically calculating where the fortress I needed was.
“You are an arsonist!” It was a girl shouting from the window, aiming a crossbow at me. Oh, my God! It was her. That’s Moriella. I didn’t get a good look at her last time. She’s much prettier when viewed from the air than when you watch her carriage from the street.
She shot at me, and of course she missed. The dragon was flying too fast. If she had hit, though, her arrow wouldn’t have hurt me much, even if it had been poisoned.
I used magic just in case, and Moriella’s arms ached so much that she dropped the crossbow herself. I can’t fight her! How can you fight a lady, and such a seductive one at that? The prudent beauty immediately moved away from the window when she realized she didn’t have the strength to fight me. The problem was, she had nowhere to retreat to. The fire that had taken over the fortress from the neighboring wings had blocked all the exits. Moriella was trapped, and she wasn’t cursing like a lady, from what I could hear.
It was embarrassing that I’d burned down the whole town before I flew into her window. But what else could I do? That’s just the way it is. The ones I liked best, I courted with passion. And my passion often led to fire.
When she saw the dragon transform into a handsome young man, Moriella lost her self-defense. The arrogance in her violet eyes was replaced by confusion and… by longing. How often I’d seen that amorous expression in the eyes of ladies, but with her, for some reason, it was especially pleasing. I held out my hand to her. And she threw herself at me, not even afraid of what a young man experienced in magic might do to her. And what choice did she have: either burn or fly away with me.
I should have given Rose no choice. Perhaps then she would have been more affectionate. But I was foolish to fall in love for the first time in my life. Moriella, too, was apparently in love for the first time in her life. She was nestled on the back of the dragon that carried her over the northern sea. Salt water splashed in her face and cold winds blew, but she stubbornly clung to the spikes on my back and even felt the sharp scales. Good thing she didn’t think to prick me with pins. Rose would have if she thought I was infringing on her rights. Moriella, oddly enough, now considered her freed, not kidnapped. Her hometown was burning up behind my tail, and the girl even began to hum something about the winds of the sea and the free will. Who will understand these beauties, what they really want? One thing is certain: since I burned down Moriella’s house, I’ll have to find her a place in my Empire. Good for her, because if she stays there, she’ll never grow old. But where I could put her? How to make sure the locals don’t abuse her. Shall I give to Percy as a wife? He’d be so pleased! I don’t think so. He’s used to being free and having affairs with everyone. We could get Vincent out of exile and force a wife on him. If you give her a good dowry, he’ll be delighted. The main thing is to divide the dowry into two parts, so that when he drinks his dowry, Moriella will at least have money left over for a family life.
But it’s too early to think about that. We’ve got a whole voluptuous night ahead of us. Only for some reason, instead of a luxurious palace, I flew to a cemetery. There were no grave fairies. They could get jealous of me and start pinching Moriella until she bled. There was one gorgeous stone tombstone that looked more like a king’s bed, decorated with stone roses. I lowered Moriella onto it, and then I landed beside it and took on a beautiful human form. In the meantime, the beauty was nestled comfortably on the tombstone, straightened her purple velvet dress with silver braid. The agate hoop on her forehead gleamed, a reminder of the spells that witches use to heal girls from unwanted suitors. Apparently, Moriella had traveled to such a witch for a reason. The hoop and the necklace were definitely telling her something. I probably wasn’t an unwanted suitor, so all that jewelry didn’t work on me.
Moriella had apparently undergone some kind of witchcraft ritual, because she felt quite normal in the cemetery. I lay on top of her, undid the silver lacing on her corsage, exposing her plump breasts with pinkish nipples, and the night of lovemaking began. It was business as usual. No words but hot girl whispers about how beautiful I was. And every girl promised me I was the only one she’d ever have. I don’t think any of them will keep that promise. To whom are the pretty girls faithful?
“It is only to those whose embrace they die in.”
I didn’t even look back at the snide remark. I didn’t care what grave spirit said it. The familiar act of love had become more fascinating to me than even magic rituals. And Moriella was suddenly the first person I wanted more than just coitus with. A witch indeed! I leaned over her once more and suddenly felt the skin beneath my hands turn to ash. What’s wrong? Moriella’s pupils rolled back, revealing pure whites. Her lips turned to ashes before my eyes, her cheeks blackened and sunken, her hair scattered into ashes that the wind picked up and swirled around. The body on the tombstone seemed to burn from the inside out. A moment ago it had been young flesh, but now it was a handful of ash. Only the silver jewelry remained untouched by the fire. They gleamed over the ashy wreck of a head. The wind blew, and the ashes were gone. I stood staring at the flat tombstone where Moriella had lain a moment ago. What had happened to her after all? I didn’t set her on fire. She burned from the inside out. Isn’t that what happened to all of them? I’d spend the night with them, and the next morning, they’d burn up. Is that it?
To find out, we have to go back to Simonetta at least. Maybe she’s still alive. Then, of course, I was wrong. And Moriella played her own magic to disastrous results.
“Why do you care so much? Why do you care if you kill them or if they burn themselves?”
I shrugged off the annoying voice and went to check for myself. There were ashes at Simonetta’s house, too, but she was nowhere to be seen. It was useless to question the servants about anything, except to find a spirit witness. Usually they fly around and see everything, but I preferred to find out for myself. All I had to do was strain my secret vision and imagine what had happened in that bedroom a few hours ago. I saw it all at once, as soon as I closed my eyelids. The blond mistress was turning into a figure of ash, and she did not realize what was happening to her. Her body was bursting into ash piece by piece. And the fire was burning inside. The fire had gotten into her with the dragon seed.
You don’t have to check any further. I was sure that all my lovers had been subjected to the same deplorable story. So I can’t be with mortal women anymore. So that was the end of the fun! The fairies seemed different, so I’ll concentrate my interest on them.
It’s a pity it doesn’t make up for what I’ve done. I liked Simonetta when she was alive. Now all I could do was put her ashes in an urn.
I was drawn back to the cemetery where Moriella had died, so I flew there. It’s good to be a dragon. I don’t even need a horse to get around. There were even pegasi waiting in my imperial stables.
Dragon, as it turned out, was difficult to be only when it came to love. Especially love for mortals.
How right was the young man who had advised me to buy an urn for Lisette’s ashes. By the way, how could he have known before I did? He was lucky I wasn’t in his way right now, or I’d have had my claws at his throat. I wanted to take it out on someone. That’s when I sought solitude in cemeteries. If you’re feeling down and dreary, it’s better to wander among the graves. Of course, only if you don’t meet there angry and very attractive grave fairies, who always wear black, have an earthy complexion and, alas, are partially rotting. But this does not diminish their beauty.
There were pixies dancing on the graves in the cemetery. I looked at the beautiful portrait carved on one of the headstones. What if she were alive? The dead woman herself must have long since decomposed in the ground. If the body hadn’t rotted away entirely, I could pick her up and rebuild her, but would it be worth it? I’d been wrong once before. That girl was almost intact, but the disease had left its marks on the resurrected body. They would have passed with time, a small dose of dragon fire was enough to banish death and any disease, but hopeless love was too serious an opponent even for magic. Orissa died in agony. The girl lying there under the cedar reminded me of both her and Rose. Dark-haired, very delicate, according to the inscription on her tombstone, she had died on her seventeenth birthday. I didn’t even wonder what it was from. Was it murder or suicide? Was it accident or disease? People die anyway. The strange thing was that the sturdy cedar above the grave had stopped bearing fruit, there were no cones, no nuts, not even squirrels nearby. And the image on the tombstone seemed so spiritualized, almost heavenly. I couldn’t stop looking at it for hours.
What if I took a chance and made a mate out of ashes? If it failed, Henri would rejoice, thinking that I had finally been justly avenged. It would really hurt to lose her if I created her for a short time, or even a century, and then lost her.
For a moment I imagined that in this grave beneath the loose earth lay Rose in a slightly rotten red dress. Just a vision!
Rose herself is sitting at home in Black Magnolia Manor, plotting against her former spouse, that is, me. And I have to find something to do to relieve my loneliness. I’ve decided I will not look at mortal women from now on. My sympathy for them ends too badly. I’d rather concentrate on magical creatures. Besides, there are plenty of them in my Empire.
Peri from the candelabrum
Someone called me from the attic. Who could have taken up residence up there? Certainly it was not a dragon. The voice was definitely gentle. Some fairy locked up while cleaning? As I made my way upstairs, the voice didn’t call out again, and it still felt like there was someone languishing upstairs in the attic. A silent call can be very powerful, too. I could feel it. Only there was no one in the attic. There was no movement behind the door, not a single breath. I opened the old door anyway. Why was it locked in the first place? There’s nothing valuable in the attic that’s worth keeping under lock and key. It’s dusty and cramped. There were only a few chests of junk, and a few unnecessary things: broken clocks, drinking vessels, amphorae, and a rather nice candelabrum. I didn’t remember it. Where had it come from? As I looked at it, candles flickered in the wells. There were nine exactly. A silvery smoke drifted from the yellowish flame.
“Greetings to you, sir,” whispered the melodious voices.
“How good it is that you finally let us out!”
“We waited so long for you to notice us and set us free!”
“We were so eager to serve you and fulfill all your wishes!”
“You are probably tired of everyone around you being unworthy and not knowing how to serve you, but we will fix that!”
“Just tell us what you want!”
The mellifluous speeches caressed the ear. It was easy to fall asleep right there on the stairs. It sounded like the chorus of fairy genies I’d suddenly released from the lamp. Only the voices were female! Were there seven or nine of them? Was it maybe more? They whispered in different tones, but the creatures themselves were not visible. Were they too modest to appear before the Emperor’s eyes? Or are they too ugly? If they were really genies, they could be either beautiful or ugly. Well, let them fly around the castle. I’m sure they won’t hurt me. It would have been better to read some short spell and chase them away right away, but I didn’t bother. As it turned out later, I was cruelly mistaken. One should always be more cautious.
The spirits released from the candelabrum turned out to be very feminine and quite sneaky. They were nine peri. That’s the name given to female genies. They’re also known as good. I wouldn’t go so far as to say the latter. But the peri were really beautiful in such a way that they reminded of paradise and at first they were able to give their arrival a truly heavenly pleasure.
I began to wake up in the middle of the night from their quick caresses. The Oriental enchantresses were very skillful and sophisticated. They came one by one, as if growing out of the shadows at my bedside. Sleep fell from my eyelashes from their quick kisses, from the touch of their fingers unbuttoning my clothes. I usually slept without undressing, but they whispered to me that my body was too beautiful to hide it under clothes. They were surprisingly not burned by my lips, or my saliva, or even my seed. Not one of them got burned. And I suddenly had many nights of pleasure at once. And I knew the pleasure of having my own little harem.
At first, the peri came one by one. Then one day they all came together. That time they even fought over the right to get into my bed. I had to blow fire, the jet of which flew nimbly into the fireplace without hitting any of them, to calm them down. That brought them to their senses a little. In the firelight I could finally make out how good and unusual they were. They were in light oriental robes. And faces were like lovely dolls. Their jewelry tinkled with magic, their eyes were enchanted, and in every black heart there was a strong attraction to me. They’d tear anyone else alive, but the dragon in me impressed them.
“Where did you come from?” I asked them for fun. I wondered what they’d say. Would they lie or admit where their hideout was?
The answer was expected.
They came from the candelabrum.
That’s what I suspected, so I just hummed understandingly. Soft fingers were already caressing my face, nine pairs of lips whispering sweetly to me:
“You let us out of the place where your serwant Vincent locked us up before the imperial wedding. He’s not a good man. He didn’t want us to do our duty to you.”
“Was it your duty to me?” That’s where I was surprised. I didn’t remember them being among my subjects. Though if you consider them a gift…
“To give you the pleasures of the night,” they said in chorus. “That is our duty to the lord who owns the candelabrum, and with it all of us.”
“And did you do that duty to Vincent?”
“He was not our master, we owned him. Foolish boy! Pleasures are for masters only,” the red-haired peri reached for me. She was the most beautiful among the temptresses, and I almost obeyed her again. I wanted her caresses again and again. She was amazingly good.
“By the way, officially you are not married,” she reminded me, “do you want to establish harem laws here? We will be your first and best wives, and fairies second, mermaids third.”
She had it all mapped out. I felt cornered. It’s not nice to be pushed around, even by a pretty girl like them.
“It’s a good thing you kicked Vincent out,” another peri, a blonde with blue eyes, said. “He was harassing us and even locked us up.”
I’m sure he must have thought they were harassing him. But I agreed that he was an obnoxious type. After all, he’d betrayed me, his patron, to run off with my own wife. A flutter of a lady’s skirt and even the closest of friendships came apart at the seams.
So I unlocked the door and thus freed them all. As soon as the room was open they all flew out of the candelabrum. I didn’t even have to cast any spells. The Peri slipped into my life and naturally settled into the bedchamber. It was charming at first. But then I began to understand Vincent’s desire to get rid of them. The Peri were very intrusive friends. And their caresses became tiresome.
They even began to tell me what to do. At first it was just whispers in my ear, but the more they began to sound like commands.
“Fly for the treasure!”
