The sharp sound of tearing silk echoed across the sealed subterranean vault beneath Jade-River Pavilion, bouncing off the rows of iron treasure chests and glowing white quartz walls.
Pinned face-down side by side across the wide, crimson-velvet-draped audit table, Consort Mei and Consort Lan gasped in shock as the cool underground air hit their bare backs and freshly exposed buttocks.
Alaric stood calmly behind the table, dropping the torn strips of dark-plum silk and violet orchid brocade onto the polished stone floor beside his boots.
