Saya and the Dragon Chapter 118: Royal Depravity & Other Noble Pursuits

Next week?

Pure fucking bliss.

Chamomile tea. Warm scones. Debauchery.

And absolutely, shalessly, unapologetically corrupting Princess Loma with every whorish, gutter-learned, Seebulba-certified skill I’ve ever honed between sweaty sheets and velvet couches.

Because here’s the thing:

There was only one bed.

One giant, rune-carved, princess-sized slab of luxury with too many pillows, too many blankets, and exactly enough room for two scandalously entwined bodies. The rug? Bear. Fluffy. Noble. But still a rug.

And royalty, as I reminded Loma every single night, should not sleep on the floor like peasants.

Also — I deserved the bed.

I survived lesbian cannibal witches. I climbed a tower wall in a fucking snowstorm. I earned my duvet.

So Loma joined . At first, all stiff limbs and fluttering lashes, clutching her nightgown like it was a shield against sin. Gods, she was adorable. Like a nun trapped in a brothel. She gasped when I slipped a thigh over hers, yelped when I bit her ear, blushed so red I thought she’d ignite when I whispered what else mouths were good for besides reciting royal decrees.

By day, she poured tea like a proper lady.

By night, she scread into pillows like a very improper one.

I called it a winter survival tactic.

She called it… eventually… sacred sisterhood warmth rituals.

Bless her.

Anyway. The bed’s ours now.

The warlord can have the rug.