Ch. 121 – I’m Ready to Enjoy My Own Party

Rhys’s mind was still floating on a warm, stupid high. Any remaining semblance of pure logic had flown right out the window a long time ago, leaving nothing behind but a happy, slightly dazed smile dumbly plastered across his face as he looked at Vespera.

Her usual guarded, feline expression softened a bit, her keen eyes seeming to immediately notice the distinct sparkle returning to his gaze.

"Oh, you seem pretty happy to see your business partner, don’t you, Rhys?" she said in a teasing tone, her voice carrying far more playfulness than any real edge. She gave him a sharp, knowing wink. "I’m pretty happy to see you again, too."

Before Rhys could even process her smooth tone, Shula stepped into view right beside her. The ifrit woman had been talking with Vespera while Rhys was busy dealing with an insanely clingy angel and her spiraling tiefling husband, not to mention the unholy, three-way carnal union occurring simultaneously beneath the wooden bar.

The glowing look of pure pride Shula had worn just moments prior was now completely replaced by a face Rhys had literally never seen her make before in his life—a bizarre, intense mix of flustered annoyance, tight-lipped tension, and strange fascination.

Woah! Jump scare, Rhys thought plainly. But really though... what the hell is that look?!

Omen started chuckling softly right beside Rhys, practically standing at attention like a proud war general overlooking a victorious battlefield. His eleven spectral clones were already moving in perfect, terrifying formation, armed to the teeth with hot bowls of soup and iced beverages.

"You couldn’t see it before, but after everything we’ve been through with these two women, you HAVE to see the connection now," Omen whispered, trying to drop a hint.

Rhys thought hard, his tired mind darting back and forth between Shula and Vespera.

"I’m more than capable of helping!" Shula interjected haughtily, crossing her arms and getting uncharacteristically flustered under Rhys's gaze. "Who do you think was responsible for these... beautiful?.. clones?!" She didn't sound confident in the slightest, her cheeks burning red.

She clearly just hated how Rhys was melting like butter at the mere sight of Vespera.

There’s gotta be something more to it than just that, Rhys thought, observing her carefully. Shula rarely gets angry like this.

"She sure got angry the last time you two met," Omen stated as a matter of fact, floating lazily around them. "You just couldn’t see the root of it yet."

Before Rhys could send a sharp mental dig back at his dark companion, Serephina finally rebounded from her shock. She looked anxious now—an expression that was exceedingly rare for the usually composed, elegant Aasimar.

"R-Rhys... I know you have a lot of work to do right now, but please... can we just talk for one minute in the back kitchen?" she pleaded, her pale wings twitching nervously behind her back.

Hell to the no, Rhys thought smugly.

Instead of responding with that raw instinct, he shifted his gaze past her shoulder. People had a habit of getting hidden behind others in this chaotic room. Just as he suspected, he spotted Ging right behind her, standing exactly as he remembered him last—except his face was completely, utterly sullen.

"This can’t be happening..." Ging kept rambling, his voice a hollow, defeated mumble.

"I’m not going to do that right now, Serephina," Rhys said, his tone entirely blank and unyielding. "And frankly, I think you’ve got other stuff you really need to work on with Ging, right?"

He was doing his absolute best to throw the woman straight back into her own marriage where she belonged. But Serephina stubbornly refused to let up.

Vespera smoothly stepped in between them, effectively blocking Serephina’s path to Rhys. She looked up at Rhys with a bright, charming smile. "The guests are getting rather... hangry... waiting on the next tasty course," she warned with a cheerful lilt, her eyes fixed on Rhys, though the sharp edge of her warning was clearly directed squarely at Serephina.

Rhys offered Vespera a genuine, relieved smile. "I’ll get right on that, partner."

Partner. He hadn't even meant to slip that word out so naturally.

"Hoh— well!" Shula gasped in utter disbelief at the word, clutching her chest.

At a simple, silent nod from Omen, the eleven spectral shadow cooks surged out from the kitchen in a fluid, ghostly wave, carrying piping-hot food and drinks to the eagerly awaiting ballroom guests.

While the three women continued their tense stand-off above the bar, the three exhausted housewives below the counter and across the kitchen were finally starting to recover from the brutal, carnal acts forced upon them. Durin had finally reached the back of the kitchen, sprinting over in absolute panic at the sight of Rhea fully slumped against the wall, her golden frame squirming, soaking wet, and completely spent from her endless sequence of climaxes—a state the poor dwarf was still convinced was a fatal "hot flash."

I've got to get this moving along, Rhys thought, hardening his resolve. I’m not going to have this grand opening of mine ruined by all this nonsense.

"Hmph, no fun," Omen teased darkly, hovering by his ear. "You fully gave up on solving the mystery of the blushing genie already?"

Rhys knew the shadow was just trying to mess with his head, but he couldn't deny that the puzzle was actively irking him. He begrudgingly turned his attention back to Shula. She was standing stiffly, her bright eyes repeatedly darting in sharp, side-long glances at Vespera.

"I see the chefs you conjured up have mostly everything handled here," Vespera murmured, leaning in close to Rhys's ear. "Let me take you away from all this, Omen... there’s a lot more 'fun' to be had out in the ballroom," she whispered sultrily, her breath tickling his neck.

Rhys knew full well he was jumping right out of the frying pan and straight into her waiting claws, but taking one quick glance down at the thoroughly wrecked states of Dione, Ariadne, and a hyperventilating Rhea being tended to by a frantic Durin—Yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here, he instantly reasoned.

A warm hand suddenly touched his arm, stopping him.

"Rhys, love... I wanted to show you who finally showed up as well," Shula urged, her voice soft as she tried desperately to hold his attention.

"I was going to talk with Vespera first," Rhys said bluntly, without a second thought.

"Wha—?!" Shula faltered, looking deeply hurt by the immediate rejection.

Yet as Rhys watched her, he noticed her eyes drifting right back to Vespera—specifically toward her sharp Tabaxi ears and her sleek, twitching leopard tail.

Cats... The realization hit his brain like a sudden lightning bolt. Shula is a MASSIVE cat lover!

The bizarre, contradictory way Shula was acting around Vespera was a volatile, wild mix of her uncontrollable adoration for feline creatures colliding head-on with her intense, possessive jealousy over Rhys.

There’s no way... Rhys thought in absolute disbelief.

"Yes way!" Omen cackled, practically rolling across the kitchen air in pure, unadulterated hilarity at Rhys's late realization. "The mad ifrit doesn’t know whether to burn the 'cute kitty-cat' to a crisp or pet her behind the ears!"

Shula’s face flushed a deep, violent red as Vespera effortlessly flicked her leopard tail, waving the ifrit away like a minor nuisance.

"Well, you heard the man, Shula," Vespera said coolly, a triumphant smirk gracing her lips. "He’d much rather take a walk with lil' ol' me."

Rhys honestly couldn't believe how Shula—one of the single most powerful, terrifying magical beings across the realms—was completely folding at the simple sight of the Tabaxi-elf standing before her.

Then Rhys reminded himself of something else, his mind sharpening while Omen continued his fit of breathless laughter beside him. He remembered that he still had that enchanted cat artifact he had taken from Shula—the figurine sitting safely inside his coat pocket. Truthfully, he had brought the magical trinket tonight with every intention of returning it to Shula and her husband Darius. He had felt a slight pang of lingering guilt after the way his previous encounter with her ended, leaving him walking away with what was essentially her bridal gift.

I don’t know if I should give it back now, Rhys thought, his internal gears turning as he looked between the women. The way she and Serephina have been acting tonight... I don’t know if she even deserves it right now.

"Vespera, let’s go check and see how our grand opening is doing," Rhys said decisively, stepping forward and taking her smoothly by the hand. "I want to finally get out from behind this damn bar."

And it was the absolute truth. Rhys was more than ready to get the hell out of dodge. He couldn't care less if the other survivors were left behind to sort through the chaotic aftermath in the kitchen.

I feel like I’ve been trapped back here for way too long of a chapter in my life, Rhys thought to himself with a surging wave of genuine excitement. I’m ready to actually start enjoying my own party!