Chapter 756 - Culling Ⅵ (1/2)
In an elegant parlor room sitting on a comfortable, luxurious chaise is a handsome wizard with golden-haired streaked with highlights of silver that only seen to highlight his handsome features. Sneering with disdain Mulciber Sr. turns his nose up at the silver platter. There were tiny finger sandwiches, brightly colored macaroons, and a set of an expensive china tea set. A scarred serving girl had poured him a cup of earl gray tea, before departing from which she came. A pity as the girl had quite the delectable body if not for the mutilations on her body, he'd have tumbled her in the meantime to occupy his boredom until the main course arrived to relieve his d.e.s.i.r.es.
Tapping his fingers on his other forearm, Mulciber Sr. impatiently waits. The oak-stained grandfather clock in the corner of the parlor ticks loudly increasing his irk. Reaching into his robes for his wand, he with great embellish removes his wand and points it at the oblivious ticking grandfather clock in the corner of the parlor room. About to cast a spell to blast the grandfather clock to smithereens, a soft knock is heard as a melodious, but accented female voice asks, ”May I come in, sir?”
Hastily sitting back down, Mulciber Sr. stuffs his wand back into his robes, before confidently leaning back in the settee. ”You may,” he arrogantly answered with his curiosity a bit piqued. He'd grown bored of his last flower and had requested the use of a more exotic flower belonging to a different climate. Madam Zenarie had yet to fail in fulfilling his requests, and as such he very much looked forward to the new selected flower for his personal usage.
The golden parlor door handle turns, and the door swings open to reveal a hooded figure. Mulciber Sr. furrows his brow as the hooded young woman enters the parlor room and shuts the door behind her, before carefully setting a picnic basket down onto the parlor room table. ”I see, you are just as handsome as they said, Mr. Mulciber,” the young woman said as she raised a pair of lovely, smooth honey-colored skinned hands to her cowl.
Pushing back the cowl, a breathtaking face is revealed with crimson lips and startling colored eyes that color of gold. With exaggerated care, she loosens the ties of her hood causing Mulciber Sr.'s breath to slip as she playfully loosens the ties and allows the outer robes to fall to the ground. A voluptuous figure is revealed with raven, silk-colored hair that trails loosely down her back in waves. She wears silk, white Greek-style robes that cling to her revealing her sultry body and yet cloth her body elegantly as if she was a temple handmaiden. Her exquisitely proportioned feet are b.a.r.e except for golden anklets that hang tastefully there.
”I hope you find me just as satisfying as I find you, sir,” the bewitching minx said in her melodious accented voice.
”Indeed,” Mulciber Sr. replied as his eyes raked the voluptuous figure from top to bottom. ”Please sit, my dear,” he heatedly requested without removing his gaze once from her sultry body.
”I would very much wish to do so, sir,” the minx replied with a charming knowing smile. ”However, sir, I accompanied by a most excellent elf-wine vintage. It may be foolish of me, but I thought that we might get to know each other under such circ.u.mstances. Might I pour us some elf-wine?”
Mulciber Sr. narrows his eyes for a moment before utterly dismissing the idea of a plot against him. A whore could not possibly be that conniving nor would the establishment permit it. And especially one under the unwritten protection of the Potentate of London. This was the primary reason why Madam Zenarie's brothel had remained popular for so long was due to its precise safety that it extended to the clients. There was no fear of public reprisal from a foolish extortion attempt.
After a moment, Mulciber Sr. magnanimously gestures his fingers at her in assent. ”I suppose, there is no lasting harm in enjoying the finer things in life, but first what is the name of the breathtaking creature before me?”
”Ada, sir,” the beautiful bewitching young woman replied.
”Ada,” Mulciber Sr. slowly pronounced as if enjoying rolling the outlandish name on his tongue. ”A foreign name is it not?”
”Of Latin, Spanish origin, sir,” Ada enchantingly replied as she smoothly uncorked the wine and poured the two of them an equal amount of wine in two glasses. ”My father was half Greek and Italian, the child of a night with a sailor. He fell for my mother, who was of Moors, Spanish descent. Though as I child I was often told that I only inherited the best qualities of two parents.”
”Yes, I can easily see that,” Mulciber Sr. appreciatively murmured as he watched her firm, but round behind. It was perfectly taut and round like a plump peach.