8. Liora
Liora
The studio was enormous.
Sunlight poured through the high windows, bouncing off white stone floors and polished mirrors that lined half the walls.
Racks of clothing stretched across the space, silks, tailored suits, flowing gowns in colors Liora hadn’t even known had names.
Tables overflowed with jewelry, hair ornaments, brushes, powders, and tools that hummed faintly with enchantments.
And monsters. Monsters everywhere.
A minotaur carefully adjusted lighting rigs near the ceiling. A pair of harpies argued over fabric samples while perched on the back of a velvet sofa. A cyclops photographer peered through a massive camera that looked more like a magical artifact than a piece of equipment.
She stood just inside the door, clutching the strap of her bag like it might anchor her to reality. “What,” she said slowly, “is happening?”
This was not what she had expected.
When Maldenis had said there would be wedding photos, she’d assumed something simple. A quick formality. A few polite pictures to appease the basilisk elders. Simple.
That had been the plan in her head. This—
“Ah!” A warm voice cut through the noise.
She turned as a female approached, her lower body long and serpentine, scales shimmering in shades of deep bronze and gold. The lamia moved with effortless grace, coils gliding across the floor as if the space had been designed for her.
She smiled brightly when she reached Liora. “You must be Liora!”
“Yes?” Liora said cautiously.
“Wonderful!” The lamia clasped her hands together in delight. “I was beginning to worry you’d been lost on the way.
“I’m Thaleia, darling. Your stylist. I’m in charge of all the looks for today.”
Liora blinked. “…Looks?”
“Oh yes,” Thaleia beamed.
Liora slowly turned her head, taking in the racks again. The gowns. The suits. The jewelry. The lighting. Then she looked back at the lamia.
“Looks,” she repeated faintly.
“Of course!” Thaleia nodded enthusiastically. “This is a documentation shoot for a basilisk marriage. The families will expect multiple styles.”
“Multiple—” Liora stopped herself.
Took a breath.
“Wait,” she said carefully. “I thought this was just…a few pictures.”
“Oh no, darling,” the lamia laughed lightly, as if Liora had made a charming joke. She gestured to the studio. “This is the condensed version.”
Liora followed the gesture and blinked. There weren’t just a few sets. There were…a lot.
Little scenes had been arranged across the enormous studio: a marble arch draped in flowers, a dark velvet backdrop with gold runes glowing faintly across it, a moonlit garden illusion shimmering under soft lights.
One corner had what looked like an ancient basilisk throne, while another had a modern cityscape projected across glass panels.
“Is that twenty?” she asked faintly.
“About that,” Thaleia said cheerfully. “But we’ll see if we get to all of them.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “You won’t have an outfit change for every set, of course. I mean, we’re not trying to make miracles here, are we?” The lamia looked at her expectantly.
Liora blinked, and then, despite herself, she giggled. The sound slipped out before she could stop it. For some reason, it felt like the correct response, like Thaleia had been waiting for it.
“Exactly,” Thaleia said, clearly pleased. “You understand.” Then she clapped her hands once. “But don’t worry about any of that yet. Let’s get you settled.”
She guided Liora through the maze of racks and lights to a private dressing area separated by a soft curtain. A comfortable chair waited in front of a long mirror framed by glowing runes that softened the light in the most flattering way possible.
“Sit,” Thaleia said gently.
The moment Liora lowered herself into the chair, a nymph glided over with a small tray of tools.
“Manicure first,” the nymph said sweetly.
Before Liora could protest, her hands had already been gently captured.
Thaleia leaned over slightly, inspecting. “Neutral beige for the nails, please.”
“Yes, of course,” the nymph said.
Liora stared down at her hands as the nails were expertly filed and shaped. “I didn’t know this was part of the process,” she admitted.
“Just relax,” Thaleia smiled at Liora’s reflection in the mirror. “We’ll get everything figured out.
“I’ll show you the different outfits.” She moved toward one of the racks and began sorting through garments with practiced ease. “We can try a few things, see what works.
“But I do want to keep you in mind,” she continued. The lamia held up a flowing ivory dress, studying it critically before setting it aside. “Your style.”
“My style?” Liora’s eyebrows lifted higher.
Thaleia turned back toward her, eyes sharp in a way that suggested she had already figured everything out. “You lean a little edgier,” she said thoughtfully. “Structured lines. Strong silhouettes. Not overly feminine.”
Liora tilted her head. “That’s accurate.”
“I thought so.”
Thaleia reached for another garment, this one darker and sleeker, the fabric catching the light like liquid shadow. “We can absolutely work with that.” She draped it over a nearby stand and smiled at Liora’s reflection.
“Trust me,” the lamia said warmly. “We’ll make you look incredible.”
Liora glanced at the growing collection of outfits. Somehow…what was supposed to be a quick formality had turned into an entire production. By the time they finished with her hair and makeup, she barely recognized herself.
Her hair had been swept back into something that looked effortless but had clearly taken forty-five minutes and at least three enchanted combs. Dark liner sharpened her eyes just enough to give them that dangerous edge she usually preferred, while the rest of the makeup stayed surprisingly subtle.
Even she had to admit it looked good.
She’d just slipped into the first outfit, a casual one Thaleia had called the approachable look, which apparently meant dark fitted pants, a structured jacket, and boots that looked both stylish and capable of kicking someone if necessary, when she heard Thaleia’s voice ring out across the dressing area.
“Oh! You’re here!”
Liora turned and froze.
Maldenis was headed toward them.
He looked exactly as unfairly attractive as usual, in a dark shirt, sleeves rolled up, red hair slightly tousled, as if someone had run their hands through it one too many times. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the group walking behind him.
Cameras. Lights. A boom microphone. Someone holding a tablet and whispering instructions to another person.
She stared. “…What?”
Maldenis caught her eye as he approached. There was something in his expression, an almost apologetic flicker mixed with that usual confident charm. And then he gave her a look. A very clear look.
Just go with it.
She blinked. She did not, in fact, go with it. She just stood there. Completely dumbfounded.
He closed the distance between them smoothly, as if this entire situation were perfectly normal. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ll explain later,” he murmured under his breath.
Then, slightly louder, “Smile for the camera.”
Before she could react, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her gently against his side.
The contact sent a sharp jolt through her, warm and steady, and his scent wrapped around her before she could block it out.
It felt…right. Too right. Her breath caught, her body betraying her for a split second while her brain scrambled to catch up with what was happening. A camera light flashed.
She forced what she hoped looked like a neutral smile and not the expression of someone being slowly ambushed by a media circus.
He turned slightly so they both faced the small group gathered around them. “Everyone,” he said smoothly, “this is Liora.”
He gestured toward a tall harpy standing near the front of the group. Her feathers were glossy black with streaks of silver, and she held a small recording crystal in one clawed hand.
“This is Calyra,” he continued. “She writes for Lifting the Vale.”
The harpy gave Liora a bright, sharp-toothed smile. “The celebrity desk,” she added cheerfully.
Liora’s brain stalled again. “…Celebrity.”
His arm tightened slightly around her waist, subtle but unmistakably grounding. He leaned just close enough for only her to hear. “Remember,” he murmured, “smile.” Then he looked back at the harpy.
“We’re very happy to cover the occasion,” Calyra’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, Valefolk are curious about this union.”
Liora stared straight ahead.
Union.
Great. Perfect. Wonderful.
This was going exactly how she had hoped, which was to say not at all.
Another camera flashed.
He gave her another gentle squeeze at the waist. “Relax,” he murmured softly.
She kept smiling through her teeth. “I’m going to murder you later,” she whispered back.
His grin widened.
“Oh, don’t mind us,” Calyra waved a taloned hand dismissively when she noticed Liora staring at the camera crew. “It’s like we’re not even here.”
One of the cameras clicked immediately as if to prove the opposite.
“We’ll take a couple of shots while the stylists work,” Calyra continued, scribbling something onto a thin crystal tablet. “Then maybe get a quote or two later.” She flashed another eager smile. “Nothing intrusive.”
Liora watched as the harpy and her crew drifted off toward one of the elaborate photo sets, murmuring among themselves and adjusting lenses.
The moment they were far enough away, Liora turned to Thaleia. “Can we have a moment?” she asked politely.
“Of course, darling,” the lamia said smoothly.
Within seconds, the nymph, the assistants, and the stylists quietly slipped out of the dressing area, leaving the curtain swaying gently behind them. Silence settled.
Liora immediately turned to Maldenis. But before she could say a word—
“Careful,” he said calmly.