Headed by a Snake

Phaedra escaped from the planning room before Teneca could drop dead of anger.

She half expected her sword to be thrown out of the room... but thankfully the other Highblades were more professional than their Commander.

Still... Phaedra got what she needed from that b*tch.

As embarrassing as it was... she knew what she had to do.

She had to apologize.

Antagonizing Duplicarius Tychon was... easily the worst blunder of her military career-- if not her entire life.

She had always been a woman who spoke her mind, rarely thinking about the consequences... Any complaints her rivals had to offer, Phaedra could silence with merit. She... had no social life to speak of, so she devoted countless bells to her work and personal training.

Tensions had been high following the Wolves' defeat but that was no excuse. She had done him a great disservice.

Sol Invictus' timely arrival had changed the fate of her and her guild. Her Centurion very nearly worshipped the ground Tychon stood upon.

An apology was the least she could give their leader.

At any rate, Phaedra prided herself on knowing how to seek advantages.

The noble was wealthy beyond belief... he was young... and a man.

Being friendly towards him would cost her nothing.

If he showed even a tiny bit of interest, she could even seduce him! With that man's name and status, her career would skyrocket-- and she could ensure her Wolves wouldn't be disadvantaged.

She had never done such a thing purposefully, but she was confident in her abilities. She had coldly rejected dozens of suitors before, all of them singing praises to her physique, martial abilities, and keen attention to detail.

How difficult could it be?

And so she walked about the fortress grounds, dressed appropriately for her mission. She wore her sword, polished in an open sheath; tight-fitting trousers that accentuated her curves; and a clean, sheer undershirt.

She even left the top buttons undone to reveal her cleavage-- but not so much to be distasteful.

It was... hypocritical of her.

She loathed when the lower-ranked Wolves dressed that way. But... her usually-cumbersome breasts were a weapon the Flame had gifted her with. It would be a shame not to use them.

She wore her dark hair down, freshly washed. She'd rubbed her body with the sweet-smelling leaves of fresh rolanberries. Taking some advice from one of her Decani, she even applied a berry paste on her lips to color them rosy red, the numbing agent making them look fuller.

Phaedra was a shining example of professionalism, confidence, and power-- supported by an underlying layer of aggressive femininity.

If the Duplicarius liked badass bitches, then he'd fall in love with her immediately.

If he preferred lesser, perhaps easier women... then that would be his loss.

Phaedra approached a red-faced Highblade guard standing watch at the entrance to a hallway, "Good afternoon. I'm looking for Duplicarius Tychon."

The half-elf grimaced as he removed... a pair of wax earplugs?

"Lady Phaedra, I strongly advise you delay your search until later in the sun."

Phaedra narrowed her eyes. It was fine for soldiers from another nation to not refer to her by her rank... but every Highblade she met had called her 'Lady.'

...It was almost certainly something Teneca had ordered as a subtle insult.

She was about to argue with him when she heard a sudden shout from a room down the corridor.

"By... by the Flame! S-s-stop! Please!!" Said the voice, "Have mercy!"

Phaedra's world screeched to a halt.

That voice... belonged to Immunes Haelvia.

She... she was in trouble!

"Flame Eternal," Phaedra cursed underneath her breath.

She should have known. Tychon was a noble-- and with the amount of power he wielded, it would be easy for him to force any of the girls in Guild Metal Wolf.

Phaedra's blood ran hot, her vision clouded red, and every muscle in her body tensed with a rage she never thought possible.

That man might have saved the Wolves from complete annihilation but that did NOT give him the right to take even one of her pups as a carnal reward.

She'd originally sought out the Duplicarius to apologize.

Flame TAKE that!

All that criminal would get from her was Tyrion STEEL!

Poor, sweet Haelvia... the fool girl might have even offered herself willingly out of loyalty to the guild.

It didn't make it any less wrong. Haelvia was one of her sisters-- not a Flame-taken whore!

Phaedra didn't care how strong the Duplicarius was. She'd cut off that man's genitals or she'd die trying.

"Tell me," Phaedra glared, her hand on the hilt of her sword. "Which room?"

"What?" The accursed xeno crossed his arms and furrowed his brows, "No."

"Step aside!" Phaedra raised her voice, "Do *not* test me, elf, or I will--"

"Ohh... OHHHH... By the-- By-the-Fla... Fuuuu... I'm almost-- AHHHHH!! --ahh... Ohhh..."

...Haelvia's moans echoed off of the adobe walls, boring deep into Phaedra's brain... and stopping her from making more of a fool of herself.

"I... I feel so full..." Haelvia said, her voice clear through the woefully thin doors... "F... flame take you, Tychon. H-how are you... not yet satisfied?"

"Because you can still form complete sentences," A deep, masculine voice answered. "Worry not, my love. I will put an end to that."

Phaedra gulped, her mouth drier than the surrounding deserts. Her skin burned red as if she were standing naked in the afternoon sun... and not just from embarrassment.

"Th-those two..." She whispered.

"You understand," The stern guard muttered.

"Is there any chance... that... I'm misconstruing the situation as something else?"

"Highly unlikely..."

Phaedra folded her hands, the tips of her fingers over her lips... "How... long have they...?"

The half-elf shook his head, "Lady Phaedra, I've been here for the past four bells. The Commander seeks a meeting with Sir Tycon."

"...Have you tried... knocking?"

"I have not," The guard's eye twitched, "I value my teeth, milady."

"...Oh," Phaedra pursed her lips... That was... fair. "Could you... pass word that... I would also like to speak with the both of them?"

"I'll consider it," He shrugged.

"Th-thanks," Phaedra lightly bowed before turning to leave.

"Before you go..." The man called after her, "If you've applied rolanberry oils to your skin, I suggest you wash immediately."

Phaedra turned her head back, "And... why would I do that?"

"To reduce the size and spread of the subsequent rash."