------------ Ceria's Estate, Hell ------------
"We really should invest in some sort of cross-realm communication device, Lusotan," Ceria said dryly, tracing the rim of her cup idly as she lounged on one of the many curved benches dotting her courtyard. Beside the demon, her huge bodyguard Lusotan watched her with growing boredom.
"That is forbidden by Lucifer, my lady," the bodyguard replied.
Ceria sighed. "I'd like to dream for once without you appearing to correct me. That is forbidden this, and that is unwise that. Screwing that human was unwise, and look where it's brought me."
Ceria gestured all around with her hand holding the cup, spilling its contents across the flagstones. At that, Lusotan shifted in his heavy armor and leaned upon his ornate spear.
"Into war with the fifth most powerful lord in the Rings."
"You shut your mouth and let me have my fun," Ceria snapped, realizing that she was getting quite inebriated. "Perhaps you're right, all he has ever brought me is trouble, especially down here." She rubbed her clit and felt an electric tingle rise through her body. A moan escaped her lips and she lay flat against the bench, enjoying its curvature.
"My lady, there are more pressing matters to worry about than your lust."
"And just what are they?" Ceria asked coyly, rubbing her swollen clit in circles with one finger. "Fentin's little war? My guests arriving early? The festival about to commence? Or my fingers? They seem quite pressing right now." She bit her bottom lip as a second finger began to rub her clitoris.
"Ceria, enough!" Lusotan growled, taking hold of Ceria's hand and lifting her off the bench by her wrist. He'd had about enough of her drunken antics. She had a thousand responsibilities to tend to, and had left him in charge of keeping them at bay while she handled 'personal matters', by which she meant take ten pitchers of very strong wine and down them in the time between Third and Second Nights.
"Oh fine," she relented, giving him a very seductive look. "But please, just because I'm not in my right mind doesn't mean you need to get rough with me. I already have a man to do that."
Lusotan rolled his eyes and set her on her feet. Ceria staggered left and right, but gained her center soon enough and turned her head up to the bodyguard, grinning at him stupidly. He said nothing, only handing her a robe to put on, which she did with the delicate, slow movements of a child irking their parent.
"We do not have time to piss away, Ceria," Lusotan warned. "The festival needs an opening."
"And it will get one," Ceria snapped, leaning down to pick up another pitcher of wine. "Just as soon as I've had another-"
Lusotan kicked the pitcher and it shattered into a thousand fragments, painted ceramic and wine flying through the air in front of Ceria's face. She pursed her lips and straightened back up, glaring.
"Go get me another one."
Lusotan had had about enough of her antics for one day already. He picked her up by the scruff of her robe and she folded her arms across her chest, unmoved. Lusotan carried her across the courtyard and down a broad staircase, frowning at his mistress while she pouted and gave him a death glare.
"If you insist on occupying someone's time whist in your current condition, occupy theirs," Lusotan said, setting the demon down and spinning her to face the large assembly before her.
"Lusotan, I- Hello!" she quickly turned her voice and attention to the crowd in front of her. The bodyguard allowed himself a smirk as Ceria was put in a precarious place trying to discipline him. Either she would have to lose face and do it here, or play the hostess while he went to do the business that didn't involve the festival directly.
She wasn't about to let them see her in trouble.
"Yes, yes, I am a little late. I was lost in the great multitude of entertainers I've collected for your pleasure! Without further delay or ado, I welcome you to the Festival of Triumph!" At her words, a plethora of slaves started down the stairs as they had rehearsed for several night cycles, draping the steps in thick carpets, throwing various confetti materials into the air, igniting fireworks, carrying entertainers down on their shoulders.
Bright strobes floated into the air, flashing every visible color there was. Succubi and incubi maneuvered across the slaves' outstretched arms like nimble spirits across the surface of a living body of water. Demons floated in the air, wings adorned with all manner of bright, flashy ribbons.
Palanquins carrying private bedmates chosen for the more wealthy guests made their way to the steps, sloping as their carriers followed large banners and coiled tarps that would soon bee attractions and sets for stages that would adorn the great courtyard two staircases below. Three tiers of festivities, not including Ceria's main estate buildings, were all going to be the site of one of the most enormous and anticipated festivals in the Sanctuary of Redemption.
A great cheer arose from the gathering at the base of the steps, and from the slaves and entertainers moving to meet them. With a fading grin, Ceria turned to Lusotan and resumed her childish glare at him.
"I believe that went quite well," Lusotan commented, feeling Ceria's intensity growing.
"If I don't see more wine in front of my face by the time I ascend these steps again, it will be you in my bed tonight." That gave Lusotan pause. She had never threatened him with that before, but she had threatened others with it to great effect. He assumed she wasn't a gentle lover, and decided it was best to nod and comply. She'd done what was needed on her end for now.
Ceria then put on a front and descended the steps with her slaves, fixing her robe and sash around her body to look presentable. She swept a swathe of brown hair out of her face and fanned it out behind her back as entertainers and slaves alike parted for her. She looked every bit the regale, powerful noble she was, rather than an inebriated child she liked to be when she was avoiding her responsibilities.
Lusotan tasked three servants with keeping her well-refreshed with food and wine, and four others with the duty of keeping her comfortable with a palanquin and cushions should she ask for them. With the mistress taken care of, he returned to the estate proper and made his way to the enormous kitchen. Every scent imaginable met him as he held open a door for three slaves carrying a tray of minced ronx the size of a table. Lusotan decided it better to not snag a piece of reptilian meat and save his appetite for the feast.
He entered the kitchen and looked around to make sure everything was in order. Huge furnaces prepared meat and cooked ceramic dishes to be used to keep the growing number of guests satisfied. Though she had a knack for strategy, she had left military command to her generals and taken care of all domestic affairs herself.
Lusotan surmised it was out of mistrust that they could organize her events to the standard she wanted, and had resolved to leave nothing to chance.