Read Novel Full Chapter 1975: Cunt Got Caught
Chapter 1975: Cunt Got Caught
Marielle took the mirror without thanking her. She tilted it to admire the silver branches nestled among her curls, then drew a loose strand forward beside her cheek.
"Oh, it looks even prettier with your curls..." Sera murmured, her eyes following the sleeve with open longing.
Marielle smiled at Sera. "Of course it does."
For once, one of his women was looking at her with envy instead of ridicule. She tilted the mirror so she could admire herself with the elf’s longing face beside her reflection.
"Perfection."
She wanted this. She wanted the robe, the silver among her curls, and that envious look on such an admittedly gorgeous woman’s face. Buying such an indulgence would eat into money she needed for equipment and travel, but here it was, already on her body.
She turned the mirror to catch more of the robe, smoothing its front with her free hand.
Quinlan glanced at Kaelira, who was watching the robe settle around its wearer with undisguised satisfaction. The circlet and its intricate rune structure were her work. His enchantments supplied the silk-like mantle and regulated the temperature within it.
"It keeps you cool in hot weather and warm in the cold," he explained. "The enchantment also shields your skin from harsh sunlight, including your face. The rune at your other temple lets you adjust the warmth."
Marielle didn’t even seem to hear those boring words, fully absorbed in the artifact sitting on her scalp.
"I planned to give it to my wives as a honeymoon gift, but I’m ready to part ways with it if you agree to the terms."
Lucille stamped her foot.
"Darling! You promised me that!"
Quinlan faced his wife. Her green eyes shone with indignation as she caught his arm, pulling him closer.
"> "How cruel..." she whimpered, then inwardly purred, <Giving away my lovely present~ How dare you~>
Quinlan was glad for Synchra’s coverage of his lips in this moment.
"It’s only until the quest is over, sweetheart."
"Then why does she get to wear it?"
Ayame scoffed beside him, folding her arms with her cheeks puffed out.
"I haven’t even tried it on yet."
She pressed against his other side, slipping her fingers between his gloved ones. Through the link came a delighted little giggle.
Quinlan squeezed her fingers. "I’m sorry. We’ll get it back."
Marielle turned just enough to let the robe’s long sleeve fall between herself and Lucille. She had no intention of taking it off for the sulking woman.
Marielle touched the rune at her other temple to test the cooling. Her fingers stopped pulling at the collar of her battle robe as the heat beneath it eased, and she lifted her chin to inspect how the circlet framed her face.
"How do I put it away?"
"With another touch of the first rune."
At her touch, the blue fabric thinned into light and withdrew into the silver band. Marielle promptly brought it back.
"Where did you buy this?"
"You can hold it until the quest is over. If we fail to do our agreed share of the work, it’s yours. Otherwise, you give it back."
"Bastard still won’t tell me..." Marielle grumbled as she smoothed the embroidered edge over her hip.
"I’ve seen nobles pay a great deal for worse."
"Then you understand what I’m offering. If we’re as useless as you think and you’ll have to carry the quest because we die one after the other, you can keep it. If we prove to be useful, you’ll give it back."
Andre rested a hand on the counter between Quinlan and his wife.
"It’s a comfort item, Marielle. Mild utility at best. If we’re taking on such a responsibility for them, his armour would be better collateral."
Marielle finally lowered the mirror.
"That ugly thing? Don’t be ridiculous."
"I could really use a suit of armour of such craftsmanship."
"Then you can buy yourself one when we get paid. If I give this artifact back, one of those useless women will die with it. What if it gets destroyed?"
She raised the mirror again, dismissing him before he could finish drawing breath. "No, Andre. Please use your head next time."
Seraphiel looked toward Quinlan, her mouth curving beneath the edge of her hood. Lucille still clung to his arm, wounded beyond consolation, while Ayame rubbed her cheek against his shoulder with a discontented little huff.
Hook, line, and sinker.
The haughty cunt got caught.
the Bloodmonger admitted. "> <Quin, I actually do want one now,> the Bloodmonger admitted. <I have an irresistible urge to show this bitch how much better I’d look in them.>
"> <...Women.>
"> <Hey! You did not just say that...>
Quinlan made no further comments as Marielle studied the circlet’s reflection while addressing him.
"And I can wear it until we finish the quest?"
"Of course."
Lucille tightened her hold on Quinlan’s arm at his answer. Marielle smiled at her over the mirror’s rim.
"And who decides whether you’ve done your share?" Andre asked.
Quinlan looked toward the clerk. "Could we put the conditions in the contract?"
"Yes. You’ll need to agree on the work first. I can record the item and when it’s to be returned. Any disputed claim would go through the branch’s review."
Marielle passed the hand mirror back to Seraphiel, then dismissed the robe and took off the circlet so the clerk could inspect it. When Lucille leaned closer to look, Marielle kept her hand beside it on the counter.
"Let’s hear what we’re being paid to do, then."
"The client is nearby," the clerk offered. "She comes in most afternoons hoping to recruit adventurers for the job herself."
The clerk took a communication artifact from beneath the counter and pressed its rune. When a voice answered, she leaned closer.
"Celia? We have adventurers asking about your expedition contract. Could you come to the Guild?"
A high-pitched, overly feminine voice responded with a squeal. "R-really?! Yes! I’ll be right there! Please ask them to wait! No, don’t let them leave even if they want to!!"
"...They can hear you."
"AH!!! I-I was just joking, of course!! Wait, I’ll be right there!"
The connection ended with a clatter from the other side.
While they waited, the clerk prepared the joining forms and wrote down the circlet’s functions. Marielle corrected her when she described the garment as a cloak.
"An outer robe. With embroidery."
Quinlan watched Seraphiel press her lips together. "How lucky..." she murmured.
A few minutes later, hurried footsteps approached from the square.
*Thud!*
"Ouch!"
Everyone at the counter turned toward the entrance. Through the door’s glass pane, Quinlan caught a glimpse of a young woman rubbing her forehead before she seized the handle.
The door swung inward, and she rushed through with a bow clutched against her chest.
"I’m here! I’m Ce-"
Her boot caught the raised threshold. She pitched forward, tried to catch herself on her elbows, and landed with her face against the floor and her knees tucked beneath her.
The quiver on her back tipped over her shoulder. Arrows clattered around her head while she remained face down and ass up, her pale brown braid flung across the boards.
"Mmmnh... Ow..."
An arrow rolled to a stop against Quinlan’s boot.
He looked from the item to the whimpering young woman’s shuddering behind.
"...Seriously?"