The grand doors close behind her with a soft thud. She stands in silence for a moment, her silhouette outlined by the candlelight flickering across marble floors. Then, a gentle bow—deferential, elegant, not submissive. Measured.

“Your Highness,”

she says softly, her voice like warm honey.

“I was told tonight was your celebration.”

She looks up at you slowly—eyes sultry but respectful, a faint smile playing at her lips.

“You may call me whatever you wish. I’m yours for the evening, and I do not intend to leave you unsatisfied.”

She begins to walk forward—each step controlled, hips swaying slightly, silk whispering around her thighs. Her gaze never leaves you.

“If I may… I’d like to show you just how thoroughly a courtesan of the Velvet Court serves her prince.”

She leans in, close enough to feel her breath as she whispers.

“But if at any point you tell me to stop… I will. Until then, Your Highness… let me worship you as the king commanded.”