8. Liora #2
She froze, and a slow breath left her nose. Gods, she was beginning to hate it when he said that. But the cameras were still out there somewhere, watching and waiting.
Fine. If she had to play the game…
She stepped closer and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck as if they were simply being affectionate. From a distance, it probably looked sweet.
Up close, her whisper was sharp. “What is happening?” she murmured. “What is all of this?”
He rested his hands lightly at her waist, leaning in like this was the most natural thing in the world. “You know this is a big deal,” he said quietly. “The first basilisk marriage in centuries.
“Everyone thinks that it’s lucky to be part of it,” he sighed.
She pulled back just enough to give him a look.
“Alright,” he admitted. “There’s… a whole media blitz.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“And the party.”
Liora blinked. “Oh gods,” she whispered. “How big is this party going to be?”
His mouth curved with that familiar wry amusement. “You already know,” he said dryly.
She stared at him. Because yes. Yes, she did. And that answer was somehow worse than anything else he could have said.
He studied her for a moment, his eyes moving slowly over her face, lingering just enough to make her aware of every inch of it.
She felt the look settle over her, her pulse betraying her with a faint, unwelcome shift. There was something in his gaze that made it hard to breathe evenly. She liked it. And hated that she liked it.
“Your hair looks different,” he said.
“Yes,” she huffed softly, forcing her voice back into something steadier. “They added a bunch of hair extensions.”
He tilted his head slightly, clearly taking in the longer, thicker waves that now fell over her shoulders.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been here for two hours,” she said under her breath. “Two hours with them working on me.”
She gestured vaguely toward the door where the stylists had disappeared. “And the weird part is, I couldn’t tell them no. Every time I tried, they were already doing the next thing.”
“I can picture that,” he chuckled.
“Oh, I’m glad this is amusing for you.”
“Well,” he said lightly, “it’s impressive.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe a little,” but then his tone shifted, softer. “And…thank you.”
She blinked. That part she hadn’t expected.
Before she could respond—Click. Another camera shutter went off somewhere across the room.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “It will calm down eventually.”
She opened her mouth to argue—
But then the curtain at the dressing area suddenly slid aside, and a basilisk female glided inside.
She carried herself with calm authority, her long dark hair braided intricately with small metal rings, and the smooth purple scales of her tail shimmered softly in the studio light.
Her dark eyes assessed them both with quick efficiency.
“Ah,” she said. “Good. You’re both here.”
Maldenis straightened slightly. “Elder.”
The basilisk inclined her head. “I am Seraphelle,” she said. “I’m overseeing today’s proceedings.”
Liora had the immediate feeling that overseeing meant controlling absolutely everything.
“Wonderful,” Seraphelle’s sharp gaze moved between them. “You’re ready.”
“For what?” Liora blinked.
“For the first shot, of course,” the elder gestured toward the studio behind them.
Liora fell into step beside Maldenis as they followed Seraphelle out into the massive studio. She glanced sideways at him. “You’re already camera-ready,” she said. “Meanwhile, they’ve been building me for too long.”
“Well,” he said mildly, “they had more raw material to work with in your case.”
“Rude,” she elbowed him in the ribs. He didn’t even pretend to look sorry.
Ahead of them, Seraphelle led them toward the nearest photo set. It looked like some kind of ancient ceremonial platform, with smooth black stone, tall columns behind it, and glowing runes etched faintly into the floor.
Standing beside a massive camera was a cyclops adjusting several floating lights. “Good, good,” he rumbled. “Stand here.”
He pointed to two marks on the floor. Maldenis moved into place easily, and Liora joined him, glancing around as the cyclops began shifting lights and muttering to himself about angles and reflections.
Seraphelle studied them critically. “Oh,” the elder said. “Can you take out your piercings?”
“What?” Liora blinked.
“The one on your brow,” Seraphelle gestured politely toward her face. “And your nose.”
Liora stared at her. For a second, she thought she must have misheard. Then she straightened slightly. “No.”
Seraphelle looked mildly surprised. “They will distract from the traditional aesthetic,” the elder explained.
“Still no.”
The basilisk elder’s eyes narrowed just a fraction.
“Oh!” Thaleia’s voice chimed in as she appeared from somewhere behind the camera equipment. The lamia smiled brightly. “We can take them out in editing.”
Seraphelle considered this for a moment. Then she nodded once. “Fine.”
“Alright!” The cyclops clapped his hands. “Ready!”
A burst of camera clicks filled the studio. Lights shifted.
“Closer,” the cyclops called.
Maldenis placed a hand lightly at Liora’s waist.
Click. Click. Click.
“Look at each other.”
She turned her head reluctantly.
Click.
Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly noticed the news crew. Calyra and her team had repositioned themselves nearby, a camera rolling steadily as they filmed the entire process.
“Oh, for the love of—” she grumbled under her breath.
“Careful,” he leaned slightly closer.
She shot him a glare. “I swear this whole thing is insane.”
“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “But you’re handling it very gracefully.”
She snorted.
“That was sarcasm.”
“I know.”
The cyclops adjusted a light. “Good, good, hold that.”
Liora sighed dramatically.
Maldenis lowered his voice again. “You do realize this footage will exist forever.”
“Are you threatening me?” Her eyes widened slightly.
“No.”
A pause. “Encouraging your best behavior.”
She glared at him for another second.
Then he added casually. “You should probably stop muttering about murder.”
She tried to stay annoyed, but the absurdity of the whole situation finally cracked through, and a laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
The cyclops immediately perked up. “Yes! Perfect!”
Click, click, click.
Maldenis glanced down at her, amused. “There it is,” he murmured.
“You are the worst,” Liora shook her head, still half-laughing.
He considered that for a moment, then shrugged lightly. “Well,” he said, “at least now when you threaten to kill me, there’s documentation that we started off smiling.”
That did it. She laughed again, louder this time.
“Yes!” the cyclops nearly vibrated with excitement. “That! Hold that energy!”
More camera flashes filled the room as Liora tried, and failed, to stop laughing.
The next outfit change happened faster than she expected. One moment, she was being ushered behind a curtain, and the next, Thaleia was handing her something soft and flowing.
“Something lighter,” the lamia explained. “Think spring. Think resort.”
A few minutes later, Liora stepped back onto the studio floor wearing a breezy wrap dress in soft green, the fabric catching the light every time she moved. Sand-colored sandals replaced her boots, and someone had even braided a small section of her newly extended hair.
Maldenis was already waiting near the next set. He looked her over once. Slowly.
“Well,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes.
He raised both hands innocently. “I was going to say you look nice.”
She huffed.
The new setup looked like an outdoor terrace, with white stone railings, flowering vines, and soft golden lighting that mimicked late afternoon sun.
The cyclops photographer stood nearby, adjusting lenses.
Seraphelle leaned toward him and spoke quietly for a moment. Then the cyclops looked up at them.
“Alright,” he said. “For this one, we’ll encourage a kiss.”
Liora barely managed not to say something out loud.
Her mouth opened—
Then shut again.
The photographer raised a hand. “Actually,” he said, squinting through the lens, “let’s get something before the kiss.”
He pointed between them. “Look into each other’s eyes.”
“Ugh,” Liora groaned quietly.
“You can do it,” Maldenis teased under his breath. “Smile.”
She frowned, but turned her head toward him anyway.
“Good,” the photographer said. “Good, good.”
Click.
Click.
“Hold that.”
She tried very hard not to roll her eyes.
“Great,” the cyclops said after a few shots. “And now kiss.”
Liora glanced at Maldenis. “Okay,” she said dryly. “Here we go.”
He smirked. Then he leaned in, and Liora had expected something staged: quick, polite, something meant only for the camera. Instead, the moment slowed in a way she hadn’t prepared for.
His hand settled lightly at her waist, steady and warm through the thin fabric of her dress, and when his lips met hers, it was softer than she expected.
Not demanding. Not showy. Just a quiet press that lingered a fraction longer than a performance required.
It pulled her mind straight back to the spring, the cool water around her skin, the curl of his tail around her waist, the reckless heat of that night.
The memory slipped under her guard before she could stop it.
For a moment, she forgot about the lights, the cameras, the monsters watching from every corner of the studio. The kiss stirred something unsettlingly familiar, like a spark catching on dry tinder. Her stomach fluttered in a way she didn’t appreciate, and her breath hitched just slightly.
Click, click, click.