The six men immediately went to work. They moved with grace, completely surrounding Camilla with pure, absolute luxury.

Leo, the dark-haired man with the fan, stepped behind her large velvet sofa. He began fanning slowly and rhythmically. The cool, gentle breeze washed over her bare shoulders, making the warm room feel incredibly comfortable.

Mateo, the man with the charming smile, sat down softly on the cushion right next to her. He picked up a plump, green grape from the silver plate. He leaned close and gently fed her the grape, making sure his fingers did not touch her lips too roughly. The grape was incredibly sweet and juicy.

Julian, the blonde man, knelt gracefully beside the low glass table. He picked up an expensive crystal cup and poured a generous amount of sweet, cold red wine into it. He offered the cup to Camilla with a warm, inviting smile, waiting patiently for her to take a sip whenever she was ready.

Adan, the man with auburn hair, placed the bowl on the floor near her feet. Camilla gladly kicked off her soft shoes. The man gently lifted her right foot. He washed her tired foot in the warm water, drying it with a soft white towel. Then, he poured the fragrant, slippery oil onto his strong hands. He began to massage the oil deeply into her foot and her lower leg. He rubbed the tight muscles perfectly, easing away all the tension from her long week.

Elian, the man with the harp, sat on a small stool in the corner of the room. He plucked the silver strings expertly. He played a soft, beautiful, relaxing tune that filled the air with sweet music.

And right in the center of the room, ilias, the dancer with the dark brown skin, began his performance.

He moved to the rhythm of the harp. His movements were slow and incredibly mesmerizing. He spun gracefully, his dark hair flying through the air. He flexed his broad shoulders and his hard abdominal muscles with every single step. His gold armbands flashed in the dim, romantic light.

Camilla sat back into the soft velvet pillows. She chewed the sweet grape. She felt the cool breeze on her neck. She felt the strong hands massaging her tired feet. And she watched the gorgeous, muscular dancer perform just for her.

Camilla felt exactly like a female bird sitting safely in a nest, happily watching a beautiful, colorful male peacock display his feathers just to win her attention.

She closed her eyes for a brief second, soaking in the absolute perfection of the moment.

"Can this day get any better than this?"

Camilla asked herself in her mind. Her internal voice was completely peaceful and filled with pure joy.

Far outside the luxurious establishment, the sun was shining brightly on the clean, quiet streets of the upper city.

A tall, powerful black horse trotted down the paved road. Damon sat tall in his leather saddle. He was wearing his dark blue military uniform. His face was set in its usual hard, cold expression. Kade rode a brown horse right beside him.

They had just arrived back in the city from the military camp.

Damon pulled the leather reins, stopping his horse in front of the massive building. He looked at the purple velvet curtains covering the windows. He frowned deeply.

"Damon!" a cheerful, loud voice called out to him from the street.

Damon turned his head. A man was walking toward them. It was Syrus, Damon’s childhood friend. Syrus was wearing a green coat. He had light brown hair and a very easy, relaxed smile on his face. Syrus was a nobleman who enjoyed the finer things in life.

Damon swung his long leg over the saddle and climbed down from his tall horse. Kade jumped down and took the reins of both animals, handing them to a stable boy nearby.

Damon and Kade walked over to Syrus.

"Syrus," Damon said, his deep voice sounding very serious and slightly annoyed.

Damon looked up at the building again. He knew exactly what kind of establishment this was. It was a place for rich nobles to find secret, expensive companionship. It was not a place for military men.

"Of all the places in the entire kingdom," Damon complained, crossing his strong arms over his chest. He glared at his friend. "You pick this specific place for our meeting?"

Syrus laughed out loud. He was not intimidated by the angry glare. They had known each other since they were small boys.

"When will you be less stiff?" Syrus smiled, slapping Damon playfully on the shoulder. "You are always so serious, Damon. You need to relax your muscles. This place has the best wine in the city, and the rooms are perfectly private."

Syrus turned and pointed toward the front doors.

"Let’s go in," Syrus urged him cheerfully. "I have already reserved a very nice private room for our meeting."

Damon let out a heavy sigh of disapproval, but he nodded his head. He needed to discuss important political matters with Syrus, and he did not want to argue on the street.

They walked into the establishment. The two muscular guards bowed deeply and opened the doors for them.

As they walked down the long, beautiful hallway lit by crystal lamps, the soft music and the sweet smell of perfumes surrounded them.

"So," Syrus spoke, walking side by side with Damon. He turned his head to look at his friend. "How is the lady doing?"

Damon kept his eyes straight ahead. He thought about Camilla sleeping in his bed last night.

"She’s fine," Damon replied shortly. His voice was flat and gave away absolutely no information.

Syrus shook his head sadly. His cheerful smile faded into a look of genuine concern.

"I heard the terrible rumors in the city," Syrus replied, lowering his voice. "I heard she almost committed suicide when you gave her the official divorce papers. She ran out into and jumped into an old well."

Syrus stopped walking for a second and looked Damon right in the eye.

"Why will you do that?" Syrus asked, his voice full of disappointment. "Why would you hand her divorce papers so coldly? You know she is incredibly fragile. She has no family left to protect her except that young brother."