The Castle Tour

The group trooped out of the throne room in a loose line, Scarlet leading the way with cheerful abandon, apparently oblivious to the radioactive awkwardness trailing behind her.

Max followed first, also seeming mostly immune, but then further back April had tried to walk beside Grace only to be **** to keep her distance by the overly-defensive hair. Poppy and Emma held hands a little too tightly to be purely affectionate, and the recently increased height difference meant the smaller woman had to take multiple scurrying steps for each of her girlfriend's long strides. Eleanor followed with a strut and an imperious expression, though her eyes anxiously checked every new sight for potential danger. Chrissy came next, walking stiffly, folding her arms inwards to conceal as much of her chest as she could manage and keeping as much distance from the Host as she thought she could get away with. The only reason she wasn’t right at the back of the pack was because Matt had pulled his wife to one side as the group passed through the doorway.

“Sarah,” he murmured her name, holding her gently by the shoulders, his eyes scanning all over the face that was both familiar and different, “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed this. I tried to tell you. I tried to tell the Audience I didn’t want this transformation, but...”

“You don’t like how I look now?” she said uncertainly, pulling back slightly. Her husband’s grip on her shoulders tightened just a little.

“Sarah, you’re gorgeous.” He flashed her a lopsided smile. “But you were gorgeous before. Whatever our issues were, or are, me not being attracted to you wasn’t on the list. I wanted the transformation that made you feel good, not the ones that made you change for me.”

“And what about what I want?” she snapped back, then realised what she’d done and dropped her eyes, continuing in a low whisper, “What if I wanted to be pretty?”

“You already were,” Matt replied, a little desperately, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Hey! Keep up back there!” Scarlet’s shout interrupted any response Sarah might have given.

Sarah flinched and tried to scurry after the group, but Matt kept hold of her long enough to plant a quick kiss on her cheek. She made a tiny **** noise in the back of her throat, then he grabbed her hand and they both dashed off to catch up with the tour.

At the end of a short stone corridor, another set of doors opened up into a wide but cozy room. The far wall had multiple large leaded windows looking out over a thick forest, the trees rendered orange-gold by the setting sun (in a fourth direction to the three apparent sunsets in the throne room). To one side, a huge fireplace crackled merrily and filled the air with a subtle scent of woodsmoke.

A couple of doors opposite the fire led deeper into the castle, while every spare inch of remaining wall space was filled with bookshelves crammed full of tomes in all shapes and sizes. Three large chesterfield sofas in plush red leather faced inward to the warm flames, and beside the fireplace was an incongruous cheap plastic table holding two stainless steel insulated carafes, a stack of paper cups, and a small tub filled with sugar packets and tiny pots of room-temperature-stable milk.

“This is the common room, where you can hang out when you don’t have anything better to do,” Scarlet swept her arm around, “Help yourself to tea or coffee whenever you like, and read any of the books that take your interest. Most of them are other seasons of Harem Hotel, which means you’re spoiled for choice with the absolute peak of literary entertainment, but if you want something specific that you can’t find then the staff can point you in the right direction. Give them a moment, they’ll come out and introduce themselves.”

The Host paused, clasping her hands behind her back and waiting patiently, while her guests/captives glanced between the doors to see where the staff would appear from. It was Eleanor who first spotted the movement, letting out a small shriek and pointing at one of the sofas. Moments passed as everyone except Scarlet peered over to see what had surprised the heiress, then a mop of messy black hair slowly rose into view. A green forehead followed it, and then a pair of oversized green-brown eyes were peering back at them all. Another head popped up next to it, similarly green but with shorter hair, then another and another.

Nobody said a word as an improbable number of bright green humanoids appeared from the space behind the furniture, hesitantly leaving their hiding spot and approaching the group. There were an even dozen of them, all female and all about the same height as Poppy. They were much curvier than the diminished girl though, with hips nearly as wide as they were tall and breasts that would have been in proportion for a woman twice their size. After a minimal amount of pushing and shoving, the staff silently lined up, then took a unified bow directed towards Matt in particular.

“Our staff aim to please, and they’ll always be close at hand whenever you need something,” Scarlet explained, heedless of the astonished stares, “I created them with low-level psychic powers, so they can sense as soon as you need help and sometimes even get an idea of what it is you want, but it’s usually best to say things out loud anyway to avoid any misunderstandings.”

Matt blinked as a thought occurred to him, and he turned towards the Host with a horrified expression on his face. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Eleanor asked, confused but still not taking her eyes off the strange creatures.

“Wait, really? Ha!” Max slapped her legs and doubled over in cackling laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” the goth demanded, snapping her fingers at her hysterical roommate.

“Oh no,” April said quietly, pressing her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. Beside her, Grace pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, her hair quivering energetically.

“What’s so funny? Somebody tell me! Now!” she hissed, getting increasingly distressed at missing out on the joke and finally tearing her eyes away to look around the group.

Emma and Poppy, also clueless, both just shrugged. Chrissy kept to herself, standing a few steps away from the others and refusing to engage. Sarah was hiding away from the conversation, behind her husband but still clutching his hand.

“You... haha!” Max wheezed, speaking to the Host instead of responding to the question directly, “You made little green people with psychic powers? The staff are mind goblins?”

Matt, April and Grace all braced themselves. Eleanor’s brow furrowed.

“What’s a mind goblin?” she asked, blundering headfirst into the trap.

Scarlet grinned as a golden opportunity was handed to her on a silver platter. She skipped a couple of steps over to stand next to Matt.

“Mind goblin...” she began, smiling sweetly at Eleanor while gesturing to Matt’s crotch, “Deez nuts?”

Three sets of palms met three sets of faces as Matt, April and Grace all hid from the terrible joke. Sarah giggled. Max made a noise like a set of faulty bagpipes and slowly descended to the floor, tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks. All twelve goblins simultaneously grinned, their mouths going uncomfortably wide and revealing a set of dangerously sharp teeth.

“That’s an ancient meme that wasn’t even funny when it first spread,” Matt mumbled through his hand, “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Probably,” Scarlet readily agreed, “And yet, I’m not. You alright there, Max?”

Max raised her head, laughter trailing off, then caught sight of Eleanor’s disgruntled face and was **** to look away as her laughter redoubled. She pounded her fist on the flagstones and struggled for breath. Scarlet just smiled and shook her head.

“Anyway, bedrooms are that way,” the Host pointed at one of the doors, “But we’ll come back to those at the end. This way to the rest of the hotel. Come along, everyone.”

Scarlet herded the group onwards, through a different door and into a longer corridor. Max took a moment to realise they’d set off and hurried after them, first crawling and then stumbling, still laughing at the back of Eleanor’s head.

“Buffet is through here,” the Host threw open the first door on the right, “Breakfast is from 8am and dinner from 6pm, attendance is mandatory for both unless it’s your date night and you have other plans with the Master. Lunch is available from midday until 2pm when you can grab what you like whenever you like.”

The buffet room was a jarring juxtaposition from the castle; black and white vinyl flooring, obviously fake marble columns, empty glass and steel serving cases for hot and cold food down one side and a long table down the middle with a white tablecloth and wooden chairs. A view over a narrow white beach and a wide blue sea could be seen through a floor-to-ceiling window, and yet another sunset on the horizon.

“Tavern in here,” she opened the door opposite. The bar was built from dark wood held together by grime, with sourceless cigarette smoke wafting through the air. A busty, grinning goblin in an apron and flatcap stood on a stool behind the beer pumps, wiping an already-clean glass with a yellowed rag. The windows in here were small, but what little light they let in was orange-red and low in the sky. Max peered in with some interest at the wide array of oddly-shaped bottles on the shelves, her lingering chuckles finally fading away.

“Continue down the corridor, and you’ll find anything your story needs if you look hard enough,” Scarlet pointed ahead, “Gym, spa, pool, games room, armoury, stables, and more. Be aware when exploring though, as there’s always a chance you might trigger a trope when entering a room.”

“...you mean ‘trap’, right?” Emma asked curiously.

“Nope,” she replied brightly and instantly, “The stories that make up this hotel leak sometimes, and if it fits with you and the people around you at the time then you could find yourself dragged into a scene and filling in for a character. It’s not a bad thing though! If you manage to make it through the scene without bailing, then you’ll earn a prize. Useful items, bonus BP, or even VP if you’re lucky.”

“How much VP, and how do we trigger them?” Grace suddenly interjected, breaking her silence and visibly toning down her anger at the Host to ask the question.

“It varies, but they’re not worth loads, and they’ll trigger whenever it’s narratively appropriate. If you want to maximise your chances, you could try exploring in groups and mixing up who you’re with each time, but mainly the tropes will latch on if you’re on the cusp of some kind of revelation. They like the drama. They do also like it when it’s funny, but that won’t work if you try and **** it.”

“What kind of tropes are there?” said April, cocking her head to one side.

“Excellent question,” Scarlet nodded approvingly, then turned about and strode off to the next door, “Have fun finding out. Now, there’s only one last important stop on the tour before we head back to the bedrooms. This is the shop, where you can spend your BP.”

The shop was another huge space (big enough to seem like it should be overlapping with the tavern beside it) split into radial sections with different kinds of items in each. Despite the fascinating array of goods, nobody looked around at what was for sale. All attention was directed at the shopkeeper instead.

Behind a counter in the centre of the space was a woman who would have stood head and shoulders above even Matt, if she hadn’t been leaning over onto her elbows. Her skin was an olive brown, her hair dark and sleek, and her eyes a curious gold colour lined by thick black eyeshadow. She was wearing a loose and flowing outfit of white cotton, and golden bands at her wrists and neck. The outfit was cut low at the front, and more than a few of the gathered group found themselves staring straight down her vast cleavage.

“This is Cleo,” Scarlet introduced her, with a nod in her direction.

“How do you do?” Cleo nodded in return, smiling just a little. Her voice was low and husky, almost a growl.

“My colleague here can sell you anything in the store,” the Host continued, “And she can answer any questions you might have about those items or the BP economy in general. Just clear your calendar if you want to do a Q&A, she takes her sweet time getting to the point.”

The large woman rolled her eyes, but didn't seem too put out by the insult. Certainly not enough to bother the Host about it.

“Cleo also handles the mail, including Audience feedback. We’re accepting fanmail, suggestions for tropes and TFs, and applications for crossover events. Leave a comment or send in a message, either wherever you’re seeing this or through something called Discord.”

“Like the apple?” Cleo squinted at the Host, who just shrugged.

“What sort of stuff can we buy?” Eleanor asked, tearing her gaze from the truly impressive rack and looking around at the shelves. Some of the things she saw intrigued her. Others confused her. The rest worried her.

Cleo opened her mouth to respond, but Scarlet beat her to it.

“Firstly, there’s the losing transformations from the vote. 10 BP to buy one of your own, an extra 5 BP to buy someone else’s TF, and another extra 5 BP if you buy a TF for someone else. So if Chrissy wanted to buy April’s losing TF for Emma, then it would cost her 20 BP total. Better save up, and maybe you’ll get there by the end of the fifth round at your current rate.”

Scarlet shot a grin at Chrissy and got a deepened scowl in response.

“There’s also clothes, bondage gear or sex toys across a whole spread of prices. Various temporary transformations and transformation upgrades are from 5 BP and up. Or, finally, you can commission a fanfic from 10 BP upwards.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Chrissy snapped, then recoiled as everyone turned to look at her and she remembered how exposed she was. She was saved from giving an angry response to the attention that might have lost her more points by Cleo speaking up instead.

“Have you ever wondered what your life might have been like under different circumstances?” she said enigmatically, gesturing in the air with the fingers of one hand like she was conjuring an image in their imaginations, “What if all of you had attended the same college, or lived in the same apartment block? What if the Master had been a regular at the coffee shop you worked at? What if you were heroes with fantastical powers, or nobility in the distant past? Wouldn’t you pay a few bonus points to get to experience that, for a short time, and see what it teaches you about yourselves? Would it not be worth a few BP more to tailor it exactly to your desires?”

The room fell silent as everyone tried to figure out what the shopkeeper was describing. Scarlet cleared her throat.

“You can take him on a date into a story,” she said, pointing at Matt, “Take some of the others along too, if you want and they agree. It’s like the tropes in the rest of the castle, but it can last for longer and you have more control over it. The more complicated the scenario, the more it costs.”

“Is that not what I said?” Cleo purred with a lazy grin, “Were there any other questions?”

“Yeah, just one,” Emma stepped forward, “Is there any birth control for sale here?” she asked, blushing almost as hard as Matt was and trying to ignore the furious glare from Sarah that suddenly drilled into the side of her head, “Not for me, I mean. But I bet some of the others haven’t thought about it, and they really should.”

Scarlet once again beat Cleo to the answer.

“Birth control and any diseases have been taken care of when you were brought here,” she turned towards Max, “Ew, by the way,” she turned towards April and continued while Max was still trying to figure out whether it would be worth a punishment to punch the Host, “And no need to worry about any medications either. You’ll get those magically provided straight into your body as needed. You’re welcome.”

“Um, thanks,” April said shyly, glancing around at the others and trying not to make too much of a point of checking that Chrissy hadn’t realised what medications it was that she was actually taking.

“All done here then?” Scarlet asked the room, then clapped her hands loudly, “Excellent! We’ll finish off with the bedrooms. See you later, Cleo.”

“Will you?” the shopkeeper asked, raising a lazy eyebrow as the tour left her lair.

Scarlet led them back down the corridor, into the common room, and through the remaining door that she had pointed out earlier. Behind it was an antechamber with four more doorways in vastly different styles, a spiral staircase leading up and out of sight, and a large, multicoloured prize wheel that looked like it had been pulled from the set of a gameshow. The Host took up position next to it and gestured enthusiastically.

“We have four different bedrooms for our Contestants, and you’ll be assigned to them randomly,” she explained, “I might open it up for viewers to vote for in future, but it didn’t seem fair to make them choose that before they’ve seen the rooms properly. First up, we have the delightful Poppy and her less-than-delightful roommate, Chrissy. Poppy? Could you come up here and give the wheel a spin?”

Poppy tried to step forward only to be brought up short as she failed to extract her hand from Emma’s grip. It took a couple more shakes before the tall woman noticed and released her girlfriend’s hand with an embarrassed flinch, then Poppy gave her a warm smile and wandered over to the Host. She took a moment to assess the situation, craning her neck to look up at the wheel, then stretched her arms skyward and jumped, grabbing a hold of the edge and pulling it down as she fell back to the ground.

The wheel spun easily but noisily, the pointer rattling over the colourful segments for several seconds before it slowed to a stop on a grey band marked with a black skull.

“Looks like you’re in the horror room!” Scarlet exclaimed, “Fitting for Chrissy at least. Let’s take a look inside.”

The bedroom door was dark wood and black iron, surrounded by rough stone, and creaked ominously when it opened. Ozone and incense filled the air, and the room inside was dimly lit by flickering candles as a storm blotted out the sky outside the arched windows. An occasional flash of distant lightning rendered a mountain range into a jagged silhouette. The furniture was opulent but equally dark, with intricate patterns carved into ebonised wood on the wardrobe, the dressing table, the nightstands, and the four-poster bed.

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” Chrissy said to Poppy as soon as she had finished taking in the arrangement, “I’m not sharing a bed with a dy...” she stopped herself, trailing off with a glance at a tense Matt and at the smiling Host, “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“You have to, unless you want another punishment,” Scarlet scolded cheerfully, “Besides, it’s not like she takes up much room.”

“I wouldn’t want to touch you anyway, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Poppy said flatly, the truth of her statement obvious to everyone who heard it.

“W... well why not?!” Chrissy demanded, her anger shifting gear with only a brief stutter, “Am I not good enough for you, you little-”

“Chrissy!” Matt interrupted, “Don’t finish that sentence unless you want to dig yourself into an even deeper hole.”

The bully snarled at her ex-victim, but stayed quiet and tried to ignore the growing heat she felt from the annoyance directed her way. Poppy gave him a brief smile of gratitude, but it fell off her face when she looked to Emma only to find the muscular woman staring at the floor and avoiding the confrontation. She swallowed her disappointment, then turned back to Chrissy.

“I don’t want to touch you because you’re an awful person. It has nothing to do with how attractive you are.”

Again, the transformation made the truth clear - or at least the truth from Poppy’s perspective. Chrissy drew in a sharp breath and clenched her fists, but bit her tongue instead of hitting back.

“Grace and Emma next!” Scarlet shattered the tension with a flourish, back over at the wheel, “Come give it a spin, Grace.”

Grace hesitated, wary of the grinning Host, but picked her way through the crowd, her hair leading the way. As she took up her position, the copper strands formed a defensive wall between her and her fellow redhead. She grasped the wheel like it was a dangerous weapon and pulled sharply. When it clattered to a stop, the pointer was on a bright blue segment marked with a white star.

“The sci-fi room. How interesting! Just over this way, please.”

The metal door split down the middle and slid open on its own with a quiet whoosh. This room was clean and scentless, sleek and bright, the curves and corners of the furniture illuminated by panels built into the ceiling. The view out of the round window was astounding: a cluster of twinkling stars and a cloud of orange-blue vapour, without any land visible at all.

“Where’s the bed?” Emma asked, looking into the room over the top of everyone’s heads while Grace was too busy staring in awe at the nebula outside.

“Right there,” Scarlet said, gesturing to a circular impression in the middle of the floor. “One of you can give it a go, if you like.”

Grace surprised everyone, including herself, by being the one to step forward. Other than accepting the invitation, she carefully ignored the Host as she approached the apparent bed. She stopped at the edge of it, examining it suspiciously but with a curious gleam in her eye.

“Is this...” she started to ask, then stepped into the circle before completing her question. As soon as her front foot crossed the boundary she tipped forward, her back foot leaving the ground and leaving her floating in the air. She let out a tiny yelp of surprise and her hair flinched outwards, but slowly calmed as she drifted into the middle of the space to hover in a prone position.

“We get an anti-gravity bed?” she twisted around to face the Host with an expression of begrudging excitement, “That’s kind of cool, I guess. Surprisingly comfortable too. Now how do I get down?”

“Just try and lean towards your feet,” Scarlet suggested.

Grace thought about it for a second, then shifted her weight. Just as slowly as she had arrived in her position, she drifted away from it until she was gently deposited back on the floor. She examined herself, her hair shifting about her as she checked all of her baggy clothing was still in place, then shuffled back to rejoin the group.

“April and Sarah’s turn. Up you come, kitty,” the Host instructed.

April skipped up to the wheel and gave it a spin without any further encouragement. The pointer stopped on a pink segment with a red loveheart.

“The romance room! Over this way,” Scarlet gestured and led the group across.

The third door was panelled in pale wood and had a sleek metal handle, almost as if it was from an actual hotel rather than a castle made of stories. It swung open smoothly, and the aggressive decoration behind it hit like a slap to the face. The carpet was red. The walls were red. The furniture was pink, and decorated with red roses. The bed was red, and shaped like a heart, and so were the pillows. The window (with red curtains) looked out onto a peaceful garden, though the predominant plant was a bevy of rosebushes that seemed the most likely source of the floral tones assaulting the nostrils. The roses outside, oddly, were all yellow.

“That’s... um...” April blinked as she stepped inside and took it all in, her ears twitching and her tail thrashing back and forth. She raised a hand and pointed shakily at one of the walls. “Is that the shower?”

Necks craned around to see what April was indicating. There was a second door that presumably led to the en suite bathroom, and next to it was a large glass panel, giving a clear view directly into the shower cubicle. The tiles lining the walls were red, and there was a red, heart-shaped sponge on a little (red and heart-shaped) tray in the corner.

“You expect us to watch each other shower?” Sarah squeaked, peeking out past Matt’s arm.

April blushed heavily and clutched her hands in front of her crotch. She’d already been nervous about sharing a room, but now it seemed like it would be virtually impossible for her roommate not to realise she was trans. At least she hadn’t ended up sharing the romance room with Chrissy.

“I’m not going to stop you from turning your backs if you want, but that’s up to you,” Scarlet smirked, “Come on. One last Contestant room to get to, for Max and Eleanor. Spin that wheel, Maxine!”

“There’s only one left though,” Max pointed out, “It will probably land on a duplicate anyway. Would we end up with four of us sharing?”

“Just spin it,” the Host sighed, shooing Max towards the wheel.

With a snorted laugh, Max gave the wheel a perfunctory tug, then folded her arms and tapped her foot as it slowed to halt. The final result was a green segment with a yellow sun, and all eyes turned towards the remaining room. Its door looked as if it was grown from a living tree, still covered in papery bark, but the hinges and handle were a delicate silver filigree.

“The fantasy room,” Scarlet said dramatically, throwing the door open wide.

The design was almost as singular in colour as the romance room, though significantly less aggressive about it. Pale marble made the walls and floor, with decorations of crystal and silver. The furniture was wooden and constructed with sweeping organic curves, and the bed was plush and white. Up near the ceiling, some glowing gemstones hovered a slow orbit of the room to provide light, and out of the window was a colourful forest with trees of blue and pink and neon green. The air smelled of pine and grass, fresh and bright.

“Huh,” said Max, eyeing up the space with intrigue, then grimacing as she remembered who she would be sharing it with, “What do you think then, princess? Up to your royal standards?”

“It’s fine,” Eleanor sniffed, crossing her arms.

“Glad to hear it,” Scarlet exhaled, with something that was slightly closer to satisfaction than to relief or exhaustion, “We conclude our tour with the entrance to the Master bedroom, which is up those stairs right there, but I’ll let Matty explore that in his own time. He’s on his own tonight, then date nights begin with Sarah tomorrow.”

Matt looked up the spiral staircase with trepidation. He didn’t realise he was squeezing his wife’s hand uncomfortably tight until she squeezed back almost as hard.

“I’ll be fine,” Sarah whispered in a tone of voice that sounded suspiciously uncertain. He nodded anyway, and didn’t let on that for once it hadn’t been her he was worrying about.

“I’ll leave you all to it then,” the Host said, giving a bow and backing out of the antechamber, “Curfew is in four minutes, by the way. Make sure you’re in your assigned rooms by then if you don’t want a punishment TF.”

The antechamber door slammed shut, and Scarlet was gone. An instant later, Chrissy was gone too as she dashed into her room in a panic. Others soon followed, until only the two couples were left.

Matt wrapped Sarah in a fierce hug, squeezing a squeak out of her that he quickly muffled with a **** kiss, then as soon as their lips broke apart again he was holding her face and resting their foreheads together.

“I love you,” he whispered to his wife.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, “I’ll see you in the morning, right?”

“Of course,” he gave her a grin of false confidence, then one more kiss before he reluctantly tore himself away and began to ascend the staircase, sharing a glance with Emma and Poppy as he spiralled around. Sarah watched him until his feet had vanished out of sight, then her whole body sagged and she slowly trudged over to the romance room.

By mutual but unspoken agreement, Emma and Poppy waited until everyone else had left before they turned to face each other. Emma dropped to one knee, making her only slightly taller than the tiny woman.

“I’m so sorry, Pops,” she quietly pleaded, “I know I’ve been awful since we got here, but I promise I’m trying. I’ll do better. I love you.”

“I know you do, Em,” Poppy replied truthfully, “It’s fi-.” Her words cut off sharply. She blinked, and tried again. “I mean, it’s o-” Again, the word died before it could leave her lips. She changed her approach. “I know it’s scary, coming out,” she said carefully, “But they all know now, and they all seem okay with it apart from Chrissy. We’ll be alright. Maybe this can be practice for when we get back?”

“Maybe,” Emma said weakly, “What about Matt? With me? Or with you?”

“I’ll figure something out,” she shrugged, “And you can do whatever you want to with him. Just promise me one thing. No, two things.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll tell me about it. That you won’t keep anything a secret,” she said, flat and serious, then blushed and leaned in close before continuing in a whisper, “And promise me you’ll show me what that new tongue can do before you use it on him.”

Emma expelled a surprised laugh, then nodded her agreement and grabbed hold of her girlfriend, pulling her close and kissing her hard. Poppy let out a happy whimper as their lips met, then a moan as the unseen tongue snaked out to explore her mouth, almost forcing her jaw wide with how much space it now took up and how much smaller she now was.

“Curfew is probably coming any second.”

The unexpected voice made Emma flinch back, her long tongue retracting with a wet slurp, but she mostly managed to resist her first reaction of acting like she’d been caught doing something terrible. Mostly.

Grace was leaning against the doorway of the sci-fi room, looking at her roommate with a raised eyebrow and folded arms. Her hair was more relaxed than it had been at any point since the transformation brought it to life, but still hovered by her sides, ready to react at any moment.

“Thanks,” Emma said, embarrassed, climbing back to her feet, “Goodnight, Poppy.”

“Goodnight,” the small woman replied with a beaming smile and cheeks flushed for a very different reason.

They both retreated to their rooms at last, looking back over their shoulders as the curfew hit and the doors closed and locked by themselves.