NOVEL NEXT Chapter 372: The Art Advisor
After the somewhat tense opening to the talks, the actual trade negotiations began. And, they were dragging on for, it seemed, yet another hour.
Aria and Silviana discussed stuff like grain prices, silk tariffs, and magical reagent exchanges while Melisa stood by the balcony, not even pretending to pay attention.
No, her mind went right back to the subject of the previous talk: Nim rule.
[Well... shit. They're actually right about all of that.]
Her mind kept circling back to Silviana's words. Nim who once ruled through seduction and pheromones. Not myths. Not legends. Actual history that Queen Melara had confirmed before her death.
[B-But, that doesn't mean we want to take over now, come on!]
She watched a group of nim servants bring refreshments to the council. They moved with quiet efficiency, heads down, tails still. Nothing like the confident nim she'd seen in the corridors yesterday.
[Are they trying not to bring attention to themselves because of the, uh... previous subject?]
"Lady Blackflame?"
Melisa blinked. The negotiations had ended while she'd been brooding. Councilors filed out, some shooting her suspicious glances. Councilor Feng looked ready to spit fire.
"Yes?"
Aria approached, looking tired but satisfied.
"The Matriarch's art advisor wishes to speak with you. Something about a Lunar Festival performance."
"Art advisor?"
"Rakia Sunweaver. She's..." Aria paused. "Enthusiastic."
"That's one word for it," Silviana added with a knowing smile. "You'll find her in the Crystal Wing. Third door on the left. Good luck."
[Why do I need luck for an art advisor?]
The Crystal Wing lived up to its name. Walls of polished quartz caught and scattered light in rainbow patterns. Melisa counted doors, one, two, three, and knocked.
"COME IN!"
She pushed open the door and immediately got an eyeful of chaos. Paint splattered every surface. Fabric samples draped from the ceiling. Musical instruments cluttered corners. And in the center of it all—
"YOU'RE HERE!"
Suddenly, the dream of many an otaku occurred in real time, and a kitsune launched herself at Melisa.
Pink and purple hair streamed behind her, tied up in elaborate braids decorated with bells. Her outfit looked like someone had raided a theater's costume department and worn everything at once.
Before Melisa could react, the kitsune, with gleaming blue eyes, grabbed her face and crashed their lips together.
[WHAT?!]
A tongue immediately invaded her mouth, tasting like sugar. The kiss was all heat and hunger, the kind that made Melisa's knees weak and her tail shoot straight up, fully erect, heart-shaped tip trembling.
Just as her brain started to short-circuit from lack of oxygen, the kitsune pulled back, beaming, a single strand of saliva connecting them.
"Perfect! Your essence tastes like rebellion! We're going to make SUCH beautiful art together!"
She had a somewhat high-pitched, little bit bratty, voice, and an accent that almost sounded French.
"I— you— what?!"
"Oh! Right! Introductions!" The kitsune bounced on her toes. "I'm Rakia! I'm eighteen! I direct all the festivals in the capital! And you're going to be my STAR!"
Melisa's brain struggled to catch up.
"You... just kissed me."
[With tongue,] she added internally.
"Obviously! How else would I know if we're compatible?" Rakia grabbed her hand. "Come on! So much to show you!"
"Wait—"
But Rakia was already dragging her out of the room and down the corridor. For someone her size, she was about Melisa's height and thinner, though with larger breasts than Isabella's, she had surprising strength.
"The Lunar Festival is in THREE DAYS!" Rakia announced, pulling Melisa around a corner. "We need costumes! Choreography! A whole routine that shows nim and kitsune unity!"
There were many, many thoughts going through Melisa's mind. One managed to slip out from her lips before the rest.
"I can't dance!"
"Everyone can dance! You just need the right motivation!" Rakia's tails swayed with excitement. All six of them. "Oh! And we'll need to test your pheromone projection range!"
"My WHAT?"
"For the performance! Nim pheromones mixed with kitsune illusion magic? The audience won't know what hit them!"
They burst through another door into what looked like a massive theater. A stage dominated the center, surrounded by tiered seating. Kitsune performers practiced aerial silks while others rehearsed combat choreography.
"Everyone! EVERYONE!" Rakia clapped her hands. "Our star is here!"
Every head turned. Melisa wanted to sink into the floor.
"She's perfect! Look at those horns! That figure! And her essence—" Rakia spun to face her. "You've been feeding regularly, right? Your glow is INCREDIBLE!"
"Can we maybe not announce my feeding habits to everyone?"
"Why not? It's natural! Beautiful! Part of what makes you YOU!" Rakia's eyes sparkled with manic energy. "Oh, we're going to scandalize the citizenry SO HARD!"
[This girl is insane.]
"Now then!" Rakia pulled her toward the stage. "Let's see what you can do! Have you ever performed before?"
"No."
"Fought in public?"
"Yes, but—"
"Same thing! Just with more glitter!" Rakia shoved her onto the stage. "Show me your best spell!"
"I don't think—"
"NO THINKING! Only doing!"
Melisa stood alone on the stage, dozens of performers watching. Her face burned.
[I'm going to die. This is how I die. Not in battle. From embarrassment.]
"We're waiting!" Rakia called out cheerfully.
Melisa raised her hand, drew a simple spellsign, and muttered the incantation. Blue flames burst from her palm, forming a small sphere.
The theater went silent.
"Holy shit," someone whispered.
"Blue flames?"
"That's not normal fire magic—"
"PERFECT!" Rakia squealed. "Mysterious! Powerful! Slightly terrifying! Everything a star should be!"
She bounded onto the stage and grabbed Melisa's hands.
"We're going to make history! You and me! The Lunar Festival will NEVER recover!"
"I haven't agreed to anything—"
"Details!" Rakia waved dismissively. "Your queen wants unity? We'll give her unity! Through ART! Through PASSION! Through—"
"Making out on stage?" someone suggested.
"BRILLIANT! Write that down!"
"WAIT!" Melisa yanked her hands free. "I am NOT making out with anyone on stage!"
"Not even me?" Rakia pouted. Her lower lip trembled. Her ears drooped. "Was my kiss that awful?"
[Oh no. Not the puppy eyes. Anything but the puppy eyes.]
"That's... that's not the point!"
"Then what is?" Rakia tilted her head, smiling again. "Art is about breaking boundaries! Challenging expectations! Plus you're really cute when you're flustered!"
The other performers laughed. Melisa's tail lashed with embarrassment.
"Can we just... start with something simple? Like not kissing strangers?"
"We're not strangers! We're artistic partners! We're practically SOULMATES!" Rakia grabbed her arm again. "Come on! Let me show you the costume options!"
As Rakia babbled about fabric choices, Melisa found herself getting swept up in the enthusiasm.
[What is happening right now?]