Round 13

Jeane leaned back against the wall opposite the bedroom door, arms crossed over her chest as she waited for Silra to emerge. Hera was still hovering near the doorway like a mother hen—annoying but predictable. "You wanted private time so badly," Jeane called out, her voice carrying easily through the closed door. "Don't keep us waiting all night." She glanced at Halie standing nearby, the cleric's discomfort obvious in every line of her body. "Something wrong? You look like you're about to burst into song about true love and rainbows."

Silra reappeared in the doorway after what felt like an eternity—maybe three minutes, maybe five, who was counting?—her face flushed and her breathing slightly uneven. She moved carefully, one hand pressed against her lower abdomen as if holding something inside. "Problem solved," she announced to no one in particular, then headed for the bathroom without elaborating further.*

Jeane watched her go with a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "See? I told you she could handle herself." She pushed off from the wall and moved toward Hera, closing the distance between them with deliberate steps. "Now that the entertainment's concluded for the evening, perhaps we should discuss more... private matters?" Her tone was casual, almost conversational, but there was an undercurrent of something more—a promise or a threat, it was hard to tell which.

Behind them both, the music box pulsed again—louder this time, insistent. The air in the room seemed to shimmer faintly, and Halie felt a fresh wave of heat wash over her skin.