In a world where everything seems perfectly logical and pragmatic. The thought of anything existing outside of the realm of what one already knows seems impractical.
That is how Melinda Morrison sees life.
The very life where she has shared nearly e...
A grander opportunity, to reach the goals that I desire.
The Ember Court was a realm of opulence and secrets, a sanctuary for the elite of the Imperial capital of Klocsas. Its gilded gates admitted only those granted access by the percipient owner, Marquis Yves Da Esmeralde of Vord, whose discerning eye for the prominent and wealthy in high society was unmatched. The lounge within the club was a haven of luxury, adorned with rich tapestries, velvet upholstery, and the softest of rugs underfoot. Dimly lit chandeliers cast a warm glow over the hushed conversations and discreet laughter that filled the room.
This marked the most recent of my dear friend Yves' entrepreneurial endeavors. Armed with a coveted business license to operate in the heart of the Imperial Capital, he birthed the Ember Court—a subtle homage to his familial roots, harkening back to the Qube Court in Xuegate, his hometown. However, unlike its provincial counterpart, this new establishment did away with the antiquated biases of gender exclusivity. Here, it was no longer a gentlemen's club, but a haven for the elite from all walks of life and backgrounds. Men and women alike were welcome, provided they possessed two vital currencies: affluence and stature. The Ember Court was designed to be an exclusive, private refuge, a sanctuary of indulgence.
True to Yves' signature style, everyone who graced this sultry franchise was adorned in masks, shrouding their identities in an elegant veil of mystery and allure. It was an experience that set the Ember Court apart from any other nocturnal retreat—a world where secrets were safe, where one's persona could be explored and reinvented beneath the comforting concealment of the mask.
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Yves was no stranger to amassing wealth and perpetuating the legacy his ancestors had laid out before him. Just steps away from the enticing and flirtatious embrace of the Ember Court, he had established a renowned restaurant by the name of Lotus Nova. In his relentless pursuit of prosperity in this gilded city of boundless opportunities and promises, Yves embarked on yet another venture. He scoured the empire for the most skilled master chefs, curating menus featuring exceptional lunch and dinner offerings. These culinary creations were designed for those who not only appreciated the finest of meals but were willing to pay handsomely for exceptional and exotic flavors.
Yves was a shrewd and resolute businessman, a quality I deeply admired. Our partnership, marked by my investments in his commercial enterprises, had enriched me tenfold, a fact for which I held him in high regard. It was this mutual success that allowed us to sit back, relax, and savor the luxuries within the Ember Court—the fruits of our labor.
I sat beside Marquis Yves, his amber eyes and brown hair with subtle blond highlights casually hiding behind the flamboyance of the brightly-colored dragon mask he wore today. Regardless of his choice of disguises, he was always known as someone whose taste in the finer things in life was renowned throughout the empire. Tonight, we indulged in a lavish spread of drinks and appetizers, reveling in the epitome of grandeur. Yves sipped his Pear Vanilla Gin Fizz, while I savored the rich undertones of my Chai Espresso Martini—a drink that had captured my heart, and one I'd learned was among Lavania's favorites. Her excitement for anything coffee-flavored brought her a joy that could not be replicated through pictures and painting her happiness alone was reason enough for me to enjoy it.
