92 Nighttime Diplomacy
*Parental guidance warning.*
"He WHAT?! How is that possible??" Aurala refused to believe it. Planar travel was impossible by human standards, only accessible through artifact-level items or by dealing with a greater power.
Tycon didn't blame her, "I have my suspicions, but Tavor isn't powerful enough to do this on his own."
"And why have you sought to discuss this with me instead of just handling it on your own?" Aurala scowled.
Tycon held Aurala at the waist, "Because I wanted you to lure me into your bed."
Aurala hesitated, "Be serious, Prince Tycon."
"Because I require more resources," he poked at her sides, causing her to squeak.
"I'll give you two squads of footmen," Aurala slapped his hands away.
"Not a chance. The old Aurala gave me this contract so it can't be traced back to you. Give me Guild Trayus. I hear they have a fireteam of Circle Mages."
"You're insane, Prince Tycondrius. What else do you want? A dragon?!"
"Don't be ridiculous, dragons don't exist. I want Naedrielle."
"You *can't* be serious."
"She loathes me. I am aware."
"Anyway, she can't! She's on the Council."
"And she'd have to leave the Council to join Guild Invictus. I am also aware."
"You're doing this because she insulted you," the young princess glared, scrunching up her face. "I think she doesn't trust you because she somehow sensed you're an Otherworlder"
"I'm doing this because an Iron-Rank Sentinel would greatly improve my chances of success."
Aurala punched Tycon in the arm.
Tycon shrugged, "Also, it just so happens that this course of action greatly inconveniences someone I don't like."
"Do you really expect me to give Naedrielle to you?"
"If you want me to succeed, you will." Tycon firmly pulled the woman into his embrace, "Besides, we're friends aren't we?"
Aurala crossed her arms, rolling her eyes, "I don't know about your relationship with the former me, but do you really think I'll let you do whatever you want?"
Tycon gazed into her eyes and she shuddered involuntarily, "I'm talking about my relationship with *you.*"
"O-oh," Aurala pursed her lips and gulped.
Tycon placed a finger below Aurala's chin, lifting her head up. Though she was shocked, she fluttered her eyes closed in anticipation.
Tycon placed his lips on Aurala's, gauging her reaction.
A blank stare. Eh? Let's try this again.
Tycon kissed her again. And again. She began to return his affection, slowly reaching her arms around him. Encouraged, he kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue into her mouth.
Though it surprised her, she eventually dropped her arms and relaxed her shoulders as she began to enjoy the sensation. Tycon slowly ended the kiss and drew back, leaving Aurala gasping for breath, desire still apparent in her eyes.
"Give," Tycon whispered breathily into her ear. He grazed his teeth on her tender neck and allowed his hands to wander her body, physically emphasizing his point.
Aurala nodded, whining lustfully. Her body trembled lightly in his arms. She embraced Tycon and bit his neck, "Mhmm."
Staring intently into the princess's eyes, Tycon deliberately slid his hand up her inner thigh. Try as she might to close her legs, the girl's frame betrayed her with a thigh gap that Tycon took full advantage of. With measured sensuality, Tycon's fingers ran across the front of the girl's underwear, blazing hot and soaked through.
"It feels that your body is being more honest than you are, Aurala," Tycon mused. "Shall I go further?"
The princess smiled weakly but said nothing. Her eyes sparkled, but uncertainty still remained.
Tycon playfully licked her lips, "I won't go too far, then."
The spoiled princess surprised Tycon by closing her eyes and responding with a deep, hungering kiss.
How very amusing.
Allowing the princess the protection of her sheer undergarments, Tycon utilized his fingers with practiced precision to perform a different kind of diplomacy. Aurala's passionate moans were distinct guarantees of its effectiveness.
"Give. Me. What. I... Want," he said in a deep voice, softening into a provocative promise. "You won't regret it."
It was late into the night when Tycon re-entered the Happy Chicken inn.
Dragan immediately greeted him, "Heeyyyyy, Booosssss! Welcome back, man?"
"Empty night," Tycon cursed, but his heart wasn't in it. "Are you two still drinking?"
Dragan and Maximus were drunk off of ale, dozens of empty mugs littering their table. Lone was face down on a table, his cheek in a puddle of his own drool.
Dragan offered a half-drunk mug, which Tycon drained heartily.
Maximus guzzled down another mug, whispering his name to himself.
"Yeah, Boss! Where ya been? You're back awful late."
"Night visit with Aurala."
"OooOoh, Adal's youngest, right? Isn't she a total bitch?"
"Yeah. Named the girl after her dead aunt, apparently. And no, she's changed due to extraordinary circumstances."
Lone woke up, hiccuping. He reeked of alcohol and vomit, "Wait, are you guys *hic* talking about King Adal?"
Tycon ignored him and faced Dragan, "Head to the Merylsward adventurer's guild in the morning. We're contracting a guild for manpower."
"Oh yeah, which one?" Dragan narrowed his eyes, quickly sobering.
"Guild Trayus. They're a big name here."
"Pssssh!" Dragan broke out into guffaws of laughter, "And it's no secret that they work for Adal."
"Rank and file or specialists?" Maximus crossed his arms.
"A whole platoon plus some Circle Mages. Can I count on you, Commander Maximus?"
Maximus' bearing crumbled as he snickered, "Maybe, man. The witches of the Kingdom are kinda weak."
"Organize a few mock battles to familiarize yourself with their tactics. The contract explicitly states that you're to be given command once you arrive."
"You got aaaaanything for me, Boss?" Dragan asked, ever hopeful.
"What would you say if I told you I got Councilor Naedrielle?" Tycon smirked.
"The Whore General? I'd say you're full of shite," Dragan exclaimed.
"Ah, the Witch General?" Maximus snorted. "Short elf? Thinks she's the Flame's gift to men?"
"Not a popular woman, is she?" Tycon smirked.
"She is not," Maximus chuckled. "She's good, though. Real good."
Tycon placed a scroll tube on the table, "Here's a contract I've prepared for her. Have her sign it once you meet her at the guildhall."
"Seven hells." Dragan marveled, "What did you say to Aurala to get her to agree?"
Lone rubbed his eyes drunkenly. He stared, trying to focus, "Are you guys talking about *Princess* Aurala?"
"No comment. I'm taking Pale and Taree to make trouble at the Duke's estate while your team takes care of the forges. Any questions?"
"Yeaaaah, man! I really wanna know," Dragan flashed an overly wide grin.
Tycon ignored him, "Any other questions?"
"Nah, we're good, Boss," Maximus replied, pumping his fist.
"I guess not," Dragan relented, straightening his back.
"What are we talking about?" Lone asked.
With only bells before the operation, the morning was more eventful than Tycon had hoped. Young Master Tamaki brought Tycon up to their room, where he found Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, lying in bed, sobbing pitifully.
Tycon crossed his arms, standing over the fully grown man, "What's your issue and why should I care?"
"I wanted a sacred moment" Lone cried. "I wanted it to be special!! Why did the gods punish me?! What did I do to deserve this?"
"What did you guys do last night?" Tycon asked.
Tamaki gladly explained, "Well, Boss, we went out to court the ladies. We all had a purty great time, but the Chosen One had it best!"
"You deserve this because you trusted Dragan," Tycon explained flatly.
"It's not my fault," Dragan defended himself, trying his best to pretend he was insulted.
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Tycon buried his face in his palms, "I don't care whose fault it was, just tell me what in the seven hells is wrong with him."
"He's got crabs, Boss. Sexually contracted crabs." Dragan twisted his mouth, poorly hiding a smile, "And for the record, it was definitely my fault."