The sins of the fathers are visited upon the sons. Yea, even unto the seventh generation.
Daughters too, Rin thought resentfully as she led her—no, Archer's entourage through the market district. Because she was sure that was Tendou Mayumi they just walked by, Homurahara's premier gossip mill. Between the silent but eye-catching foreign maids and Archer's customary strut, Rin would be getting questions and possibly worse for weeks, maybe even months.
"This is your fault," Rin muttered under her breath, irrationally hoping to bait the Servant into conversation. Anything to distract her from tomorrow's doom as she walked towards the udon stand.
Nothing, of course. The one time she wanted the infuriating woman's smirk, of course her capricious Servant would withhold it.
At least she wasn't the only one having a sour afternoon. Sella and Leysritt had retreated back behind the stiff manners of proper maids as soon as Archer had invited herself along. They were clearly uncomfortable with the golden Servant, and Rin couldn't exactly blame them.
So much for giving us all a break after a tough day. Even when Archer is being helpful—for a given definition, anyway—she manages to make my life hell.
The king's silence persisted while Rin placed her orders at the stand, a bowl for each person and, on reflection, an additional three portions for Saber. It weighed on her back as she distributed the bags among herself and the maids, then walked to the small parking lot where they'd left the Einzbern's silver Mercedes.
A few blocks later, she couldn't take it anymore.
"You're being surprisingly quiet about this, Archer," she said, glowering at the golden mane of the woman walking unconcernedly ahead of her. "I thought you'd sneer at common food."
There was the slightest nod of Archer's head. "I have already experienced the mediocrity that passes for the best this era's cooks have to offer. There may be some petty amusement in seeing the worst."
"I'm sure Saber will be happy to hear that." Rin put on a detached air that Archer affected with her before. "I'll just give her your portion, then."
Still nothing, not even the merest pause in the woman's stride. Rin barely resisted the urge to launch a rice box at the back of her head.
"I find it interesting that food is the one sliver of human indulgence that the maiden knight permits herself," mused Archer after a moment. "Perhaps if she satisfied her other appetites, she might prove herself more than a puppet."
"Puppet? What do you mean?"
A vision of blonde hair and a stern face flashed before Rin's eyes. A noble knight, standing proud even in the face of this War's utter refusal to make sense.
"She has chained herself in duties to the point of forgoing humanity. Duties that can be recast with clever words or changing winds, while she is none the wiser." There was a pensive, faraway look to Archer's eyes as she looked up towards the afternoon sun. "A human dulling herself into little more than a sapient tool. What a bitter irony."
Frowning, Rin shifted her grip on the plastic bags as the parking lot came into view. "What's wrong with wanting to take things seriously? How is that 'turning yourself into a tool'?"
"It is imbalanced," said Archer. "One must always carry oneself with dignity, but to deny all joy and pleasure simply so that you can mold yourself into the distorted reflection of an ideal you will never reach is pathetic. Would you say that you are happy denying yourself companionship?"
Indignation flamed in her cheeks. "If this is about Shirou..."
"Your self-deception ceases to amuse, little magus." Completely ignoring Rin's sputter, the Servant carelessly tossed her hair over one shoulder. "The boy, Rider's toy, even your own blood—you hold yourself aloof from them all."
Rin quickened her stride to keep pace with the woman and her infuriatingly knowing smile. They were almost at the car now. "I'm not lonely," she began, then clamped her mouth shut. Too late, judging from the smirk on Archer's face. "Listen here, you—!"
The car door flew open and a young woman in a bat hoodie barreled out, throwing herself onto her knees in front of Archer. Weapons replaced the bags in the maids' hands, and gems sparkled from between Rin's fingers. The woman ignored them all in favor of lifting something up towards Archer, bowing her head in supplication.
"Please sign this unworthy offering, O Great One!"
Her yell echoed in between the buildings and down the empty street. The silence that soon settled back down was extremely uncomfortable. Rin stood paralyzed.
What the fuck?
The spell was broken by Archer's elegant fingers taking the… was that a manga?... and idly flipping through a few pages.
"Hoh? Interesting."
Good manners demanded that Rin keep her distance, and certainly that she not peer over her Servant's shoulder. But she was a magus, and all her mother's lessons bled away before the curiosity that was both a magus' prime virtue and cardinal flaw. Accordingly, Rin palmed her gems and stepped forward to have a look.
She choked on her spit.
"Wha… what the hell is this?" She pointed a trembling finger at the book.
Archer grinned back at her from the pages. An Archer clad in a sexy business suit, every stitch and line cut to show off her generous cleavage and killer curves. Her long legs were encased in sheer leather boots, planted firmly in the back of a familiar bat hoodie.
Humming thoughtfully under her breath, the King turned the pages. The further she got, the more clothing flew off and the lewder the illustrations grew. Soon the fictional Archer had the girl bent over her desk at an angle that… that…
A brilliant blush exploded across Rin's face. "That's... That's not anatomically possible!"
The hoodie snapped up. Pale pinkish-red eyes bored straight into Rin's own. "It is if you want it enough!" their owner protested in a voice roughened by lust. "And I want it really bad."
"You…" muttered Rin in disbelief. "Have you no…"
She trailed off at the sight of Archer's impassive face. She turned the pages with the slow, inexorable pace of a judge weighing each sin on the scales, taking in each panel before moving on to the next.
Oh god, oh god. And this idiot's turned her into some… porno fantasy!
Another page turned, another hum from the King. Sweat gathered at the nape of Rin's neck as the possibility of murder in the streets loomed.
I do not have enough memory charms for this, she despaired, resisting the urge to tear at her own hair. Oh fuck, what am I going to do?
But it was too late to distract Archer from the disaster, and interference would only feed her wrath. Much as Rin hated to stand by, there was nothing to do but await the King's judgment.
Impossibly, a small giggle drifted through the silence. Pivoting, she saw Sella shoving a reproachful elbow in Leysritt's ribs, although the blue maid looked like she was holding back laughter as well.
Rin growled under her breath. It was her city that was about to be hit by ancient royalty's equivalent of a nuclear blast.
The bat-hooded girl seemed entirely oblivious to the impending doom. Her head was still bowed to the pavement, but her whole frame practically quivered in anticipation.
We're fucked, Rin thought with a rueful shake of her head. We're all fucked. Archer's going to murder us all and it's her fault.
Then Archer's lip curled up in a chuckle. "Crude, but interesting!" she declared. "There is passion at work here, however degenerate."
Rin's jaw dropped, while the girl bounced to her feet with a squeal of delight. "Right? This is my life's work!" she chirped. "Admittedly that's only a few days, but I can pack a lot in!"
Only a few d—oh no, don't tell me. There's no way that's a… a… Her mind refused to supply the last word. This was the Holy Grail War. Even if things had gone terribly off the rails, there were standards.
Weren't there?
"I think I will have more work for you in the future," Archer said magnanimously. "Prepare yourself accordingly."
"Yes, mistress!" the Servant replied, so effusively that Rin was very grateful she could see where the girl's hands were. "As many pages as you like! In full color! Better than kamuify, or ReDrop!"
Before Rin could ask what on earth that meant, the book was unceremoniously thrust into her hands.
"Make yourself useful, little magus." Archer didn't even look at her. "I charge you with the King's property. Guard it with your life."
Helplessly Rin stared at the cursed object in her hands, with its—goddamn, really well-drawn—cover image of a smirking Archer tapping a riding crop against her leg. Leysritt's titters had grown into full blown laughter, and a glance behind her shoulder revealed that Sella wasn't even pretending to shush her.
"Are you having fun?" Rin snapped.
"Lots," said Leysritt, rubbing a few tears aside before resuming her usual deadpan.
"I'll get started on a portfolio immediately!" enthused the… spirit… as she fixed the glasses suddenly perched on her nose. "Mating press, foot worship, blindfolds and candlewax, everything you could ever want to do to me!"
A perfect golden brow raised.
"I'msorryI'llgobye!"
With a puff and a swarm of bats, she was gone.
Once Rin had recovered some semblance of… not elegance just yet, but at least composure… she grimaced and dangled the book between two fingers, as far away from herself as she could manage. "Do I really have to?"
"If you wish to remain in my good graces, you will," said the King as Sella scrambled to open the car door for her. "Be grateful it isn't poisoned. This Assassin is clearly incapable of such subtlety."
"Poison is the least of—wait a minute, that was Assassin?" Rin felt a complicated mix of emotions, primarily disappointment and frustration. She found herself protesting to Archer's back as the woman imperiously climbed into the vehicle. "But… but they're supposed to strike from the shadows. Cunning and full of tricks and…"
The manga in her hands seemed to mock her.
Ten years. Ten years of blood, sweat, and tears. For this.
The starting of the car engine had her quickly moving to join the others in the vehicle.
I should have joined the circus when I had the chance.
"We ask that citizens remain calm," sighed the voice of tired authority from the radio perched on the parlour room's mantelpiece. "This arson streak will come to an end,"
"That's all from Police Chief Munezuki. We'll continue to provide updates as the situation develops. Now over to the weather."
"Hmph," Makeda's Master huffed as she glanced at the radio. "A gutless Eastern breeze has no business calling itself winter. Really, must everything be so trying in this backwater?"
One of the attendants caught the Caster's eye and raised the nail file with an inquiring arch of her brow. The others were busily flocked around her Master, buffing nails, drizzling scented oils and handling golden curls with all the attention due a royal's treasure.
Makeda gently shook her head, and the attendant turned back to the bottles of polish laid out on the side table. In a country long past, she had enjoyed dressing her best for one man, and one man alone. In this place and time, she was satisfied with the finery that still reminded her of him.
"At the least, the Tohsakas' hovel met with the end it richly deserved." The blonde wore a difficult smile. "Though I would have preferred to crush those upstarts myself, I am not so ungracious as to turn my nose up at a gift."
"A gift dusted with ash," Makeda noted. "I would not doubt this to be the work of the Dragon Witch."
"It cannot be helped. We knew that the Einzbern would be the biggest threat in this conflict." A manicured nail was considered and deemed acceptable with a tiny nod. "And there is a snare for every wolf. Speaking of which, I trust your preparations are complete?"
"I have taken every necessary step," the Caster assured, stifling the smile that threatened to cross her lips.
"Excellent. We are well on our way to victory." The girl relaxed in her chair, humming a pleased tune as attendants worked on her outstretched hands. "Before that happens, we shall grace Shintou's centre plaza with a shopping trip. Rustic as it looks, there is something to be said for local color."
"And what of Archer? That plaza has proven to be among her favoured haunts."
A bark of laughter from the blonde, accompanied by a dismissive wave of her painted nails. "While that class is notoriously durable after their Master's passing, even mighty Gilgamesh will fade within days without her anchor. That, or chain herself to a subpar Master who will cripple her strength." A satisfied nod. "She can no longer pose a serious threat to us."
Makeda could have corrected her. But some lessons were best learned through hard experience, including the danger of assumptions. Better her mistress stumble here, where the error would not be fatal. She could read at least that much in Archer's crimson eyes.
"I suppose we will need to be wary of Saber." The girl sat up a little straighter in her seat. "My grandmother's journal said that her own proved quite resistant to magic. Even without Archer to support her, she may still prove troublesome. We should not let confidence bleed into arrogance."
Makeda smiled in approval. The correct sentiment, if not applied in entirely the right direction.
"And we have yet to see hide or hair of Assassin. Our wards should be impenetrable, however…" Her Master briefly bit down on her thumb before forcing it away with an irritated huff, checking to ensure the glossy polish had not been ruined. "Do you think we are adequately defended from their cunning?"
"You can rest easy, Master."
She wished she couldn't speak with such certainty, but the vision of Assassin sneezing over an inked scene of Archer debauching her Master left little room for doubt.
"Caster? Is everything alright?" The blonde leaned a little towards her, brows furrowed in concern. "You seem perturbed."
"A momentary lapse," she said smoothly. "Assassin is... quite occupied, I can assure you of this."
"Tracking down our elusive Berserker, perhaps."
Makeda's eye twitched again. Fortunately her Master didn't notice, gaze fixed consideringly on her reflection in the mirrors held around her.
Pronouncing herself satisfied, she thanked the attendants before muttering an incantation low in her throat. Then a snap of the blonde's fingers, and a dazed look came over the women. Wordlessly they collected their equipment and filed from the room. By the time they walked out the front door, they would remember the entire conversation between Servant and Master as idle socialite gossip.
"Splendid, splendid!" Her Master smoothed out the fabric of her dress as she stood tall, then proudly crossed her arms. "A little longer, and victory shall finally wipe the stain from my family's ledger."
Makeda's ears flicked in amusement. "And you shall have no regrets?"
"There will be nothing to regret, for this will be—no, this is my greatest triumph!" proclaimed Luvia, grinning like a wolf as she gazed out the window towards the city beyond.
This sucks. I regret everything.
The cup trembled in Ayako's grip, but it was nothing compared to the knife hidden in her sleeve as she walked stiffly up the stairs. Sweat beaded at the back of her neck as two instincts warred inside her chest. One demanded that she bolt back downstairs, then preferably out the door and towards the temple's sanctuary as fast as her feet would carry her. The other…
Full lips whispering into her ear. Long fingers caressing her shoulder, gliding up to trace the curve of her throat.
The other really wasn't something she wanted to deal with right now.
But Rider needed mana—life energy, as Ayako understood it—or she would weaken and fade away. And if the tall woman—Servant—was definitely intimidating, she was also fascinating. So here Ayako was walking down the hallway towards her bedroom, feeling as if her legs might give out at any moment. Like an idiot rabbit walking straight towards the snake, captured by the beauty of its glittering scales.
Scales, Ayako? That's what you're calling it?
Shut up.
Just admit she's drop-dead gorgeous and that her voice is pure sex, especially when she calls you Master…
SHUT UP!
Bracing herself, Ayako stepped in and firmly closed the door behind her before she could change her mind.
"Okay, I've got what you asked for," she said, pivoting towards the woman standing silently by her bedside, as motionless as a statue. "And believe me, it wasn't easy sneaking the knife without my mom noticing." She blew out a sigh. "She'd freak if she saw me bringing it up here."
And she would be right to, even if Ayako was playing a different sort of gamble with her life. Her grip tightened on the cup.
"They should be sufficient." A small quirk of those pale lips. "Well done, Master."
A shiver raced up Ayako's spine before she forced it down. Not a good time for that.
"Right, so…" Ayako walked towards the bed and let herself drop down on the pink coverlet. The comfort of its familiar warmth under her thighs gave her a little courage. She placed the cup on the night table, then slipped the blade out and gripped it gingerly in her fingers. "How do we do this?"
"A vein that flows shallow would be best." Rider's rich voice barely rose over a whisper, yet gave Ayako the same little jolt it always did when it sighed in her ear. "That shall allow me to control how much I take."
"Yeah, wouldn't want me to faint," chuckled Ayako nervously. Her mouth snapped shut when the other only nodded solemnly.
Biting her lip, Ayako traced the blade experimentally over her palm. Hard and cold to the touch, and promising pain. She grit her teeth. Bruises and scrapes were inevitable for athletes, and she'd borne her fair share of them. Just a little cut, a tiny sting. No big deal.
The point of the knife trembled over her skin. Ayako took another breath.
"Are you afraid?"
Ayako's head snapped up. The woman's eyes were hidden behind that odd purple mask, but she could feel them searching her face.
"A-A little, yeah," she admitted. "It's one thing to trip and fall, and pick yourself back up. It's another to hurl yourself at the pavement, knowing it's gonna hurt. You know?"
"Mm."
The bed sunk under Rider's weight as she took a seat next to Ayako. Their shoulders weren't touching, but it was still the closest they'd been since that first night. Ayako felt uncomfortably aware of the other's presence, the way that lithe body shifted under the black dress. Goosebumps prickled over her skin as she brandished the blade once more.
And hesitated.
"Sorry, sorry." Ayako took a deep breath. "Okay, this time for keeps—"
"Master."
Ayako shifted to look at the woman, not entirely ungrateful for the reprieve. Rider's gaze rested on the blade, then flicked up to meet her eyes.
"I can take care of it, if you wish."
Tempting. Looking away from the needle always helped when she got her vaccinations done. And having Rider hold her arm sounded far more fun than any nurse.
Oh. She swallowed dryly. Oh, I have it bad.
Before she could think through the implications of that, Rider's long fingers closed over her free hand. Ayako bit back a little squeak as the spirit stroked her palm with her thumb, as if seeking out the pulse. The touch was pleasantly cool, almost soothing.
"Is this okay, Master?"
Ayako jolted, remembering what they were up to. "Y-Yeah… thanks, Rider." Hurriedly she offered the knife still gripped in her other hand. "Here. I know you can make it quick."
"Mm..." Rider considered the blade, then shook her head. "No. Since you've placed yourself in my care, I have a more elegant way."
That sounded good, but…
"I thought you needed blood?" Ayako's brow furrowed.
"A Servant subsists on mana. Blood is an effective medium, but not the only one."
"Medium…?"
"Any bodily fluid will do."
Heat exploded in Ayako's cheeks as Rider's exploration of the creases in her palm became slower, more sensual, mapping each line as if it were a precious thing.
"Fluids…" she managed through a mouth that suddenly felt impossibly dry. "You mean…"
Is this one of those otome games, where I power her up with a kiss?
A terrifying thought. A wonderful thought.
"Yes," murmured Rider. Then the spirit abruptly released her Master's hand. "But for us… blood is best, I think."
"Oh." Disappointment gnawed at Ayako's stomach before she could chide herself for it. Did she really want to lock lips with this mysterious woman-not even a human—and run her hands through that glorious lavender hair? Throw her arms around Rider's neck, and feel the other's hands slide down her back, hold her by the waist?
Yes. Apparently she really did.
Too bad she wasn't going to be getting it. That didn't stop the tingling in her skin everywhere Rider's fingertips made contact.
Damn it. Listlessly she offered the knife again.
"No, Master. I promised you elegance."
Ayako frowned. "Sure, but unless you've got a syringe hidden somewhere in those boots," because God, that dress was so tight even that small an object would be visible through the weave, "this is still the best way, isn't it?"
Rider gave her a small smile and patted her lap invitingly.
Ayako's mind went blank.
"Come, Master. I grow hungry."
Amber eyes widened before Ayako managed to tear her eyes away from the tantalizing strip of creamy flesh visible between the long black boots and the sinfully short dress.
"Ahh! I, uh…" Ayako scowled as she spotted the little smile tucked in the corner of the woman's mouth. "That's not funny."
"I am not joking."
Right. This was about providing mana to her Servant, since the connection through that weird book apparently wasn't enough. Still, Rider didn't have to sound so… so hot while she said it!
Steeling herself against the heat blooming in her belly, Ayako cautiously moved so she was sitting atop the spirit's legs. The warmth of that strip of skin, contrasted with the cool leather of the boots… Ayako tried and failed to suppress another shiver, then another at Rider's quiet chuckle.
"You're one step away from a vampire, you know that?" she grumbled, trying not to think about how soft Rider's shining hair felt as it brushed against her cheek.
"Not entirely incorrect."
Plot points from dubious light novels came unbidden to Ayako's mind. "Hey, this isn't gonna soul bond us or anything, is it—!"
A squeak tore from her lips when Rider's arm suddenly slipped around her waist and pulled her close. Deftly the spirit arranged her so that they were pressed chest-to-chest against each other, those unfairly large boobs pillowy-soft against her own. That lustrous hair fell around them like a curtain, cutting off her bedroom to leave her alone with Rider's wicked smile.
Ayako opened her mouth to protest when silky fingers cupped the side of her face, making her breath hitch.
"We are already joined as Master and Servant." Warm breath ghosted over her face with every word. "One life, one soul."
A shudder ran through Ayako, from her flushed nape to the tips of her toes. "That's…"
Rider's grip on her waist tightened. The girl gasped as the fingers on her jawline slid down to caress her neck. Catching on her collar, tugging it loose to expose her.
Ayako tensed. "Wait, are you really gonna…"
"Shhh."
Another tender brush of digits on sensitive skin, then Rider gently tilted her chin aside so her neck was entirely exposed. Full lips, warm lips, descended upon the most sensitive spot on her throat, where her pulse beat against the flesh.
Breathe in, breathe out.
She forced herself to relax as Rider lightly sucked at her skin, tasting her. Lips and tongue gave to something curved and sharp.
Breathe.
A sharp sting as the teeth sliced in. Ayako jerked in arms that suddenly held her as strongly as iron. Then the pain bled into sweetness, draining away her resistance in a flood of warmth. She melted into Rider's softening embrace, a grip now meant to support rather than restrain.
Hot. Rider's mouth was hot where it clamped around her neck, drawing out her blood in slow sensual sips. Ayako breathed out a sigh as the heat spread through her, like the brandy she'd once snuck from her father's cabinet. Spreading down her chest and into her limbs, pooling in her belly.
She reached up to stroke Rider's hair as the other drank, enjoying its silk under her fingers. Enjoying the spirit's body pressed against her own, big soft breasts and killer curves. The rapid flutter of her heart and the growing ache between her legs.
Ayako gave a whine of protest when Rider's lips pulled away, leaving her skin icy with chill. Then a soothing warmth as the woman licked a languid stripe over the wound, taking away the lingering sting in her neck. But as nice as that felt, it didn't feel like enough. Nowhere near enough, with her body so hot and…
Okay, hot and bothered. The raw need simmering inside her didn't leave much room for denial.
"More," she breathed, half-consciously pulling at the back of Rider's head, needing her closer.
Only for the spirit to gently but firmly break her hold, resettling Ayako more loosely in her lap.
"No, Master," said Rider as she snaked her hands back around Ayako's waist, the filthy tease. "Taking more would harm you more than aid me."
Ayako scowled up at her, then felt her resentment fade when she spotted the small bead of blood pooled at the corner of Rider's mouth. It looked like a red jewel.
My blood. That's my blood.
The sight both disturbed and excited her at once, a realization that made her feel queasy. Not helped when Rider slowly licked it up, her unseen gaze never leaving the girl's face.
There was a lull between them, one filled by the frantic pace of Ayako's heart. Looking away towards the wall helped steady it, but only a little.
"It, uh, worked then?" Ayako made herself shift her hips to loosen the other's grasp. "Feel better?"
"Yes. Your blood is superb," smirked Rider, and that had to be illegal, that full throaty purr that made all of Ayako's nerves tingle.
"G-Glad to hear it," she managed through burning cheeks as she tried to slip off the other's knees. But her legs buckled under her, weak as water, and she would have hit the floor if Rider had not moved swiftly to catch her.
"Please wait until you recover your strength," the spirit breathed in her ear.
"I… yeah." Ayako swallowed hard as she buttoned her collar back up with stiff fingers. "That makes sense."
Taking a steadying breath, she moved slowly to the side, sliding off the spirit's lap to sit next to her on the bed again. For a moment, Rider's grip held firm at the small of Ayako's back, sending both fear and arousal thrumming through her veins.
Breathe.
Then, to Ayako's mixed relief and disappointment, Rider released her and she half-slid, half stumbled on the pink blanket. Clearing her throat, she sat up with as much composure as she could manage. Which honestly wasn't a hell of a lot, with her Servant still right next to her, as darkly alluring as ever.
They sat in silence for a little bit, Ayako still catching her breath, Rider back in that eerie stillness that seemed to be her default state. Not for the first time that day, Ayako found herself wondering just what the hell she'd gotten herself into.
Holy Grail War. The concept was outlandish, and even now felt disconnected to her. Oh, she could think of plenty of wishes—money, talent at archery, something vague like world peace—but that wasn't why she was sitting here on a Sunday night, dizzy from blood loss with a ghost in her room and a knife on the floor.
She couldn't look away from that ghost. It was as simple, and as complicated, as that.
"This is it, then," she said eventually, kicking her heels against the side of the bed. "If we're fighting in this War, then sooner or later I'll have to face them."
"Yes." A simple affirmation from Rider, uncoloured by feeling.
She closed her eyes and exhaled. "Rin. Emiya. Who knows who else?"
No response, although Ayako hadn't been expecting one. Maybe it was for the best. Her stomach already churned whenever she imagined facing Rin's golden bombshell of a Servant. If Rider felt like a dangerous serpent, the other felt like a smug dragon, radiating power with every flick of her fingers.
"...hey Rider." Her fingers skimmed over her throat, taking in skin that was smooth and unbroken. "Can we beat that woman?"
"No."
The lack of hesitation in her Servant's reply made Ayako's heart lurch. She really was in over her head, wasn't she?
"Then…" Her hands wrung in her lap before she forced them back to her sides. "What do we do?"
"Wait and see how things develop."
"Yeah…" Ayako dropped back on the bed, folding her hands behind her head. "Ugh, sitting around feels so wrong. But I guess it's better than rushing in and getting our heads bitten off."
"Mm. And in the meantime…"
Ayako perked up a bit. "Yeah?"
Rider leaned over her, strands of hair trailing over Ayako's face. Her breath caught on the sweet fragrance that suddenly filled her nose, sinfully dark and decadent.
"We will build our strength," purred the Servant, trailing a hand over her cheek. "You are agreeable to that, my Master?"
Ayako gulped.
AN: We're not dead! Although judging from the last chapter's date—half a year—I wouldn't blame you for thinking so. Hopefully we're back on track now that we've boarded the semi-crack train again after all that angst. Bless you, Hime!