Sweet Decadence

A/N: I haven't updated in a while. TW: Verbal abuse, sexual implications.

Sandy sighed as Amina entered the room the next morning. Shadow had been set up in a room on the other side of the manor after Sandy told Valen that he was her patron again. She sat up in bed, flipping through the sketchbook once more.

"Mistress," Anima started, helping her out of bed. "your patron is in the parlor."

Sandy hummed in response, holding onto Amina's arm as she fixed her wooden leg on. She headed to the parlor, finding Shadow setting up his easel. She leaned against the doorway, watching him for a moment with a smile on her face.

Shadow noticed her then, wiping his hands on a cloth as he walked towards her. "Good morning, I hope you slept well," he said.

Sandy nodded, reaching down to rub at her leg. "That I did, I can only hope the same for you."

It was only partly a lie. The rest she got was fitful and sparse, but she genuinely hoped he had slept well with their current arrangement. Valen was of no comfort when her leg woke her up in the middle of the night, feeling as if it were on fire and burning, burning, burning.

"Actually," she started, looking up at Shadow. "I had a bit of pain last night. I hope my moving around last night didn't disturb you."

"Not at all, mistress," Shadow replied, taking her hand and kissing it.

A voice clearing their throat interrupted them. Valen standing just behind Sandy and moving between the pair into the room. "So, Painter, what brings you here? Besides my wife's. . .proclivity for you," he said, gray eyes never leaving Sandy. "I have to say your work is exquisite if a bit lacking."

Shadow swallowed, facing Valen. "Are you a man of the arts yourself?" he asked, briefly watching Sandy leave the room.

Valen smiled, shaking his head and taking a seat in front of Shadow's easel. "No, the arts were never my strong suit. It seems it's something you and my wife have in common. She used to be in the ballet."

Shadow went over to his easel, picking up his pencil. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it was one of the many reasons I fell in love with her. She was beautiful, it's a shame her accident impedes her so much. It must be awful, to become a cripple."

he took a swig of whiskey from his glass. "Even more so that she hid herself away in that godawful manor."

Shadow frowned. "She's more than her injury, you of all people should know that."

"It's unsightly," Valen continued as if Shadow hadn't spoken. "I can barely stand the sight of her prosthetic, let alone lie next to her. She woke me up in the middle of the night because of pain, can you believe that?"

Shadow frowned, setting his pencil down. "I can't work in these conditions, please leave me to my work," he said, watching Valen stand and walk past him. The other man left, leaving Shadow alone with his easel and a barely visible sketch of Sandy on stage, poised gracefully in her Swan Lake outfit.

Sandy milled about the house, thanking Isabella as the maid fixed her lunch. She was alone in the dining room, letting her thoughts wander. She ate, thinking of Shadow and Valen, what they could possibly talk about. Her, for one. . .how she was less of a woman for her injury. If she hadn't fallen off the stage and broken her leg that day, would things be different? Would she still have a career? Would Valen love her more?

She got up from the table as a butler cleared her plate, maybe she should rest. She headed upstairs, pausing as she neared one of the rooms. A thud sounded from the room, the door cracked open enough for Sandy to see through. Light spilled into the hallway as the two bodies fell onto the bed.

Sandy covered her mouth to capture the gasp that nearly left her. There was Valen, Valen's hands to be precise, cupping the cream-colored breasts of the new maid and fucking her like his life depended on it.

Sandy stumbled back, her wooden leg hitting the wall and drawing attention to herself. She ran as the door opened, gasping with the effort as she entered her room and slammed the door shut.

That couldn't have been real.