Raina Master of The Velvet Flame part 2
1454 Words
The rooftop was a hidden secret of the Velvet Hand: a tangle of flowering vines, worn stone benches, and a single low table set beneath an enchanted willow tree that shimmered silver in the twilight.
They collapsed onto the cushions scattered around the table, laughing breathlessly.
Tanya stretched her long arms overhead, the lingering sun gilding her skin.
Tielan sprawled like a lazy cat, one ankle hooked over the other, plucking petals from a jasmine vine without a care.
For a while, they said nothing.
Just watched the sky bleed from gold to violet to indigo.
Watched the twin moons, Luna and Celene, rise together in slow, solemn beauty.
Raina leaned back on her elbows, the soft silk of her new gown whispering against the stone.
Her hair spilled around her like a halo.
She tilted her face to the breeze, eyes half-closed.
"Feels different, doesn't it?" Tanya said quietly, voice softer than usual.
"Everything feels... ready," Tielan added, his deep baritone rumbling low in his chest.
Raina smiled faintly.
"It is. We are."
They didn’t need to say more.
They didn’t need to speak at all.
For a few precious moments, the world was simple:
Three souls. A rising city. A velvet sky. And a future humming just out of reach.
✨
Then—
a knock on the rooftop door below.
There, standing in the foyer under the glow of enchanted lanterns, were Brael, Tamsyn, and Lorien.
Brael looked... devastating.
Messy tawny hair, a mischievous smile, and a gleam in his emerald eyes that made her body remember things best forgotten.
Tamsyn stood proudly at his side—muscular, confident, her wild copper curls barely tamed by a leather strap.
And Lorien, all smooth grace and sharp eyes, leaned lazily against a marble pillar, twirling a coin between his fingers.
They were dressed simply—adventurers at rest—but each of them carried the unmistakable air of purpose.
When Brael saw her, his whole expression lit up.
"Moonveil," he breathed, as if it were a prayer and a curse all at once.
Raina couldn't help but smile—slow, amused.
"You came all this way... just for little old me?"
Before Brael could answer, Tamsyn stepped in, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.
Her voice was dry as sun-scorched leather:
"No. He would follow you anywhere."
She jerked a thumb toward Brael, who looked entirely unashamed.
"We tagged along to make sure he didn’t cause trouble."
Lorien chimed in smoothly, flicking his coin into the air:
"Or do something stupid."
Raina chuckled softly, the sound low and wicked.
She could feel the truth in their words—they were drawn to her, sure—but they hadn’t lost themselves in it.
And somehow, that only made her respect them more.
Still, the air between her and Brael crackled—
heavy with unfinished promises.
She tilted her head, playful, letting her eyes rake over all three of them with deliberate slowness.
"Well," she purred, "if trouble finds you tonight... I promise it won’t be because of me."
Tamsyn smirked.
Lorien gave a theatrical bow.
Brael simply stared at her as if he was starving.
Raina turned then, hips swaying lazily as she headed back up toward the rooftop—
casting one wicked glance over her shoulder.
And of course—
they followed.
At a distance.
But Brael’s footsteps were just a little closer than the others.
The late afternoon sun had begun to dip lower, drenching the rooftop in a halo of molten gold.
As Raina stepped gracefully out onto the roof, the trio behind her—Brael, Tamsyn, and Lorien—paused for a moment on the threshold.
The way the sunlight kissed Raina’s skin—the way her hair shimmered like woven starlight—the way her presence filled the air with a subtle, irresistible gravity—
It was almost too much.
Brael certainly felt a little trouble on the horizon.
Trouble he would gladly drown himself in.
But when the other two finally emerged from behind him, blinking against the brilliant light—it wasn’t Raina who stole their breath.
Across the rooftop, Tanya lounged on a broad chaise, laughter glinting in her dark, molten eyes.
Tielan leaned lazily against the low stone wall, the breeze tugging playfully at his silken shirt, revealing flashes of sculpted skin.
Lorien’s sharp eyes fixed immediately—hungrily—on Tielan, his gaze tracing every effortless, feline curve.
Tamsyn, for her part, barely concealed the way her entire posture shifted—shoulders back, chest lifted, eyes locked onto Tanya with a sudden, startling intensity.
Brael watched them with a slow smirk curling his lips.
"Looks like I’m not the only one in trouble."
Still, nothing untoward happened.
There was no devolving into baseless desire, no reckless crossing of boundaries.
Once they had retrieved their jaws from the metaphorical ground, the six of them found spots around the low table beneath the enchanted willow, the cushions and rugs warm from the day’s heat.
They sat—somewhat languidly, somewhat tensely, but with the easy camaraderie of people who knew they were beautiful, and powerful, and very much alive.
It wasn’t a paid encounter.
There were rules about that—rules Madame had enforced gently but firmly over the years.
The Velvet Hand’s courtesans were treated with dignity and respect.
The Madame, though stern and sharp-tongued, always understood that her "children" deserved friends, connection, moments of human warmth untainted by coin.
She might grumble later about lost billable hours, but she would look the other way—
because she cared.
Because once, a long time ago, she had lost all her own children to the tides of war and change.
And now?
Now she protected the ones who chose her house as their haven.
Even if she would never say the words aloud.
The conversation that unfurled between the six of them was slow and strange and sweet.
A little laughter.
A few lingering looks.
The kind of comfortable silences that only form between people who trust, and ache, and yearn, all in their own ways.
It wasn’t love.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
But it was connection.
And for tonight—
for this precious, stolen fragment of velvet dusk—
it was enough.
The sun had slinked its way behind the horizon, dragging the last embers of the day with it. In its place, the twin moons—Luna and Celene—rose slow and solemn, beginning their nightly dance across the velvet sky.
It was a time-between-times.
That soft, fragile breath between day and night, between waking and dreams.
In that liminal hush, two figures stood at the edge of the rooftop garden—their outlines brushed in silver and shadow.
Brael.
Raina.
There was a stillness between them. Not awkward. Not broken.
Just weighted by everything they had shared—and everything they had not said.
When Brael stepped forward, it wasn’t with hunger or desperation.
It was simple.
It was human.
Their arms found each other with the ease of old friends, old lovers—the kind of embrace that spoke not of ownership, but of recognition.
Chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat.
A memory of shared heat. A promise of something more, unspoken and unforced.
Brael’s voice broke the stillness first.
Rough around the edges. Hopeful in a way that made Raina’s heart ache a little.
"Can I join you at the festival?"
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. Emerald meeting violet, wide open under the moons’ pale blessing.
"If you’re not too busy, of course. I heard rumors..." he paused, embarassment filling his eyes, "...about the Golden Girl of the Velvet Hand performing." His gaze swept over her relaxed form. "It’s easy to guess who they meant."
Raina sighed—but it wasn’t a weary sound.
It was the sigh of someone savoring a rare, normal moment in a life growing increasingly mythic.
She tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and smiled.
Soft. Private.
A gift for him alone.
"Yeah, I’ll be busy."
"But when I’m not performing... or being paraded about like some prize mare..."she smiled coyly. "We can walk the festival together."
Brael’s grin was slow, crooked, devastating.
The kind of grin that could unmake a heart if you let it.
"Good."
He leaned in, brushed his forehead lightly against hers.
Nothing more.
Nothing demanded.
And then he was gone.
Disappearing down the stairwell with a final flash of tawny hair and quiet certainty.
Raina stayed for a moment longer, letting the twin moons wash over her.
Letting herself believe, just for tonight, that maybe—
just maybe—
there could still be simple joys waiting in the tangled future ahead.
- Writer
