Master Veylor

Corvina - An Invitation at Dusk

Added 2025-07-11 15:00:14 +0000 UTC

As usual, Celine brought the day’s correspondence to the Count — her steps light, her skirt short, her eyes lingering with unspoken hope.
But the Count, with a soft smile, thanked her and asked her to leave.
Despite her languid gaze, he remained unmoved.

Among the sealed documents and parchment scrolls, his eyes caught something different — old, worn, and folded. He unfolded it carefully.
It was a crude announcement, the ink slightly faded:
“Only at the brothel in Cozy Raven — an unforgettable performance by Corvina the Jester.”

He had heard whispers of this establishment…
But even more so of its unusual and captivating owner.
It wasn't nearby.
But for the Count, distance was irrelevant.
And the announcement said — “Tonight.” He smiled to himself. He had decided.

Half an hour before the performance, the Count donned his black cape with a deep capuchin hood.
And as if carried by shadows themselves, he arrived.
The sign above the entrance read: "Cozy Raven"

Inside, it was full — people drinking, shouting, laughing, drowning in desire.
But the Count's presence was cloaked in otherworldly stillness.
Though he stood out, few truly saw him. He took a seat in the far corner.
Only his eyes glowed faintly red beneath the hood — flickering like dying embers.

Then the music began. And the room fell silent.
From behind red velvet curtains, she emerged.
Gasps fluttered in the room — but no words.

She scanned the crowd slowly… until her eyes locked on the dark figure in the corner.
His eyes.
Those crimson eyes that caught her, studied her… devoured her.

The performance began. Her curves hypnotized. Her movements intoxicated.

She danced not just for the room — but for him.
She felt it.
The fire of his attention.
His hunger. And it thrilled her.

The performance ended in roaring applause. But the Count didn’t hear it.
He only saw Her. And she only saw Him.
With one final, wordless glance — full of invitation — Corvina slipped behind the curtains.

He moved like shadow — silent, sure — up the winding stairs to the second floor.
He stood before her door.
He didn’t knock.
He didn’t need to.
He could feel her energy.

She was waiting. The door opened on its own.
Inside, Corvina sat on the edge of the bed — half-dressed, radiant, smiling.
He entered. And the door closed behind him.

The air thickened with his aura. The world outside vanished.
No one would disturb them.
Not tonight.

Corvina would remember this night... for the rest of her life.