Kara returned, her arms laden with a tray that smelled like salvation. Bacon, roasted chicken, a heavy bowl of stew, and fresh bread.
Clatter.
She placed it down, her gaze lingering, as though she were trying to confirm the sight from the night before, peering past me or perhaps deeper, inside my clothes.
"Join me," I offered, scooting the plate of bacon toward her.
She shook her head, taking a respectful step back. "I couldn't, Priest-sama. The maids are under strict rules. We eat after the guests are satisfied."
"No one is here but us," I whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. "And I hate dining alone. It's bad luck in my culture."
Grrrr-gurgle.
Her stomach betrayed her, letting out a loud, pathetic protest that echoed in the quiet kitchen. Kara turned beet red, clutching her apron.
I laughed softy. "See? Even your body agrees with the doctrine of Lunaria."
Defeated by her own hunger, she pulled up a stool and sat. As she tore into a piece of bread, stuffing it into her mouth with unrefined haste, I finally got a good look at her. Her orange hair was messy, escaping the tight bun, and a constellation of freckles dusted her nose and cheeks. She wasn't a porcelain doll like Julienne; she had the rough, worn beauty of someone who survived.
"Are you married, Kara?" I asked, watching her chew.
"Mmhmm," she nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, I did before, but now I'm living with my son in the slums."
"Where is your husband? Are you not together?"
Her expression darkened. She reached for a strip of bacon, her earlier hesitation replaced by a grim resolve. "Nope. I don't know where he is half the time. He comes back from the war, drinks until he forgets his own name, and then goes back to the front when the money runs out."
"So you're left alone," I said softly.
"You could say that," she replied bitterly. "But I need the coin. My son... he lost his leg during youth training. A sword accident. They branded him a weakling and tossed him out."
My tentacles twitched beneath my robes. An amputee child? That was exactly my specialty.
"The Rite of Man," I muttered, recalling the brutal custom of this country.
"Yeah," she scoffed. "For the believers of the God of War, maybe. But I'm not a believer." She stuffed another piece of bacon into her mouth, grease shining on her lips. "That's why He punishes me, I suppose."
I smiled. "Then perhaps it is time you looked for a different god. One who rewards curiosity."
I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a low hum. "Tell me, Kara... why did you peek last night?"
Cough!
Kara choked on her bread, her eyes bulging. "No... I—"
"Don't lie to a priest," I interrupted smoothly. "I saw you. You were curious, weren't you? Curious about what our faith can offer."
I didn't wait for an answer. Beneath the heavy oak table, the predatory instincts of the deep took over.
Slither.
My tentacles uncoiled, silent and fluid, floating under the table. They wrapped around her ankles first, testing the waters.
"You wanted to know what it felt like," I whispered. " The pleasure you saw on my companion's face... the carnal act... you think that is just sin?"
"I..." Her breath hitched as she felt the pressure on her legs. "I thought it was hypnotism... or submission..."
"It is worship," I corrected.
Slide.
The tentacles moved higher, climbing her calves like possessive snakes, seeking the warmth hidden beneath her skirts.
"Are you looking for this, Kara?" I asked, my tentacles weaving between our faces, locking eyes with her as if they, too, were alive. "Your eyes are searching as if you're looking for something inside me. Are you curious?"
Her face was flushed, her lips parted, yet she didn't pull away. Instead, she met the tentacle's tip with her own lips, kissing it, then licking.
"Yes," she breathed.
What Honest woman you are, i whispered through her
Just as the other tentacle found the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, the kitchen door swung open.
Creak.
"Kara?"
I froze my upper body, the tentacle kara was licking with her tongue vanishing away fast, maintaining a perfect mask of calm, even as my lower limbs continued their ascent.
Lady Julienne stood in the doorway. She was dressed simply but with an elegance that betrayed her status—a fine linen chemise under a deep burgundy kirtle, the sleeves tapered to her wrists. A lightweight cloak hung from a silver brooch, and her purple hair was pinned beneath a delicate veil. A gold heart necklace rested against her collarbone, giving her skin a warm glow.
She looked regal. And she looked annoyed.
"Kara," Julienne said, her tone sharp. "I told you to provide a feast for our guests, not indulge yourself in it."
Kara went rigid. She opened her mouth to apologize, but under the table, my tentacle bypassed the hem of her undergarments and pressed directly against the damp linen covering her center.
Squish.
"Ah—!" Kara clamped her hands down on her lap, her knuckles white as she tried to stifle the sound.
"S-So... sorry, My Lady," she stammered, her voice trembling violently.
"Lady Julienne," I interjected smoothly, drawing her attention to me. "Please, do not scold her. I asked her to accompany me. Eating alone is considered a bad omen in my religious practice. If there is a cost for the food, I will pay for the damages."
Julienne's expression softened instantly. She sighed, shaking her head. "No, no, Priest-sama. It is fine. My apologies for not knowing your customs. Are you... ready to leave?"
She glanced at the table. My plate was clean. Kara's was still half-full.
"I am," I said, standing up.
I moved to stand between Julienne and Kara, effectively blocking the maid from the Lady's view. But I didn't retract the tentacle.
Squelch.
With a subtle push, the tip of the tentacle slipped past the fabric and entered her. It wasn't difficult; she was already slick, wet with anticipation and fear. It was a perfect, seamless invasion.
Kara's eyes rolled back slightly, her mouth forming a silent 'O'. If Julienne hadn't been standing three feet away, the maid would have screamed the house down. instead, she bit her lip so hard I thought it might bleed.
"Kara," Julienne said, peering around my shoulder. "Please bring Priest-sama some water before we go."
"I..." Kara tried to stand, but her knees knocked together. The tentacle curled inside her, stimulating her with a ruthless, rhythmic pulse. "Y-Yes..."
"No need," I said quickly. "I have had enough."
I reached back, gripping the edge of the table, and mentally commanded the limb to retreat.
Schlock.
The sound of the tentacle exiting was wet and audible in the quiet room.
Julienne blinked. "What was that sound?"
I brought the tentacle out from behind my back. It was glistening, coated in a thick, clear fluid that caught the morning light. Kara slumped against the table, gasping for air, her face buried in her hands.
Julienne's eyes went wide as she stared at the fluid-drenched limb. "Priest-sama... is that...?"
"Honey," I lied, without missing a beat.
I lifted the tentacle to my mouth.
Lick. Slurp.
I cleaned the "honey" off with a deliberate slowness, savoring the taste of Kara's arousal. It was sweet, musky, and raw.
"The kitchen staff was kind enough to offer me some raw honeycomb," I said, offering the now-clean tentacle toward Julienne. "Would you like a taste? It is quite... invigorating."
Julienne's face turned a shade of pink that matched the roses in her garden. She looked at Kara, who was trembling, and then back at me.
"No... thank you," she managed, her voice tight.
"Kara," She said, turning to the maid who looked like she had just run a marathon. "Water. For the Priest-san."
Kara scrambled up, grabbing a pitcher with shaking hands. She poured a glass, spilled half of it, and handed it to me before practically fleeing into the pantry.
"Sorry for my servant's demeanor," Julienne sighed, watching the door swing shut. "She has been... odd lately."
"Do not worry," I said, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "Your servant served me very well."
I offered my arm to Julienne.
"Shall we go?"
[Skill Activated: Clone Mimic]