Shamir, Catherine, and a new partnership.

Another day passed. The Archbishop still didn't show her face: her "meditation" continued in seclusion and secrecy. That secret had become less exclusive with the events of the previous day, but the only ones who knew so were keeping the information close to their chests.

Still, for those paying attention, there were changes to spot that pointed to the continued work of strange forces at the monastery. Ironically, one of the people charged with protecting the secrecy of what Rhea was doing and where she was doing it currently served as one of the most obvious markers of what was going on. The changes in Catherine's schedule, her outfit, her body, and even her demeanor had become unsubtle enough that even students had been able to pick up on it.

Shamir Nevrand, a woman in her mid-twenties from the foreign continent of Dagda and one of Rhea's Knights of Seiros, couldn't miss such changes in her fellow knight. As an expert in both archery and keeping emotions in check, Shamir never missed much, and with the woman in question walking just a few paces in front of her, there was no chance to miss any details. She noticed, but kept her comments to herself, waiting for the right moment. Shamir wasn't the sort to start up a conversation just for the sake of it, anyway.

Catherine had approached Shamir in hushed tones early that morning, rousing her from the barracks and letting her know she'd found a lead on what had become of her Lady Rhea. As soon as Shamir had gotten dressed, Catherine had led the two of them into a hidden passage, which gave way to a series of corridors hidden beneath the monastery. As Catherine led the way, emitting sparks from her legendary relic Thunderbrand to light their winding path, Shamir kept her eyes on her uncertain ally warily. It was a bit hard to take them off, regardless: lately, Catherine had taken to wearing a completely different sort of outfit from her usual, one Shamir couldn't believe was permitted by the church and which hardly seemed to offer a combat advantage (unless it was supposed to be distraction, which would be very different from her usual style). Just yesterday, Catherine had taken to wearing a skirt instead of her breeches; today, Catherine seemed to have traded that for what could more accurately be described as a front and back loincloth, colored white on the outside and red on the inside. As far as loincloths went, it was high-coverage, but it did nothing to hide the sides of the knight's wide, tan hips, which were pinched by the thin straps of what must be a leather undergarment. Similarly, while Catherine still wore a pauldron and gauntlets, her breastplate was gone outright, leaving her in the corset and shirt that went unbuttoned to eye-catching cleavage.

Shamir reminded herself that her focus should be more on Catherine's behavior and less on her body. She judged they were a good distance from the entrance now. Realizing they would no longer be heard from the passage entrance, Shamir finally took action. "Here's good, Catherine."

"What, you need a break?" Catherine quipped back. "Lady Rhea could be in danger right now. There's no time to... Oh." She stopped talking, wearing an uneasy smile as she realized what was happening. She turned around slowly. "On second thought, a break sounds good. Let's take it easy..."

Shamir kept her bow knocked and ready as she faced her ally in the darkness of the dungeon, making it clear that she had the one shot she needed lined up, even if the light source was to suddenly extinguish. "Right. Nice and easy. Before we go ahead with this mission, let's chat a bit more." Her own small smile fell into a tense frown. "You'd be a pretty lousy actor and an even worse spy. If I'm supposed to believe Rhea's in danger, why are you so calm about it? You've got half the speed and tension you ought to if you're on a mission to save her life, and you'd be waking up the whole barracks, not this half-hearted two-knight party. I've got to ask what's waiting for me down in this crypt."

"Only what I said, partner," Catherine told her, now facing Shamir with one hand in the air, the other holding Thunderbrand down passively behind her back, and the friendliest smile she could manage under the circumstances. "Okay, okay, maybe I was outta line! This was just a little surprise the two of us had planned. Should have known better than to try a trick like that on someone as sour and suspicious as you. Frankly, I wasn't sure it was the kind of thing I could get you out of bed for without a crazy story."

"Uh huh," Shamir replied, looking unamused and keeping her weapon readied. "Not a big fan of surprises. Why don't you go ahead and spoil it for me?"

"Well, Lady Rhea wanted to make you an offer, the kind she's only giving to her most trusted confidants. People like me!" Catherine added, pointing a thumb to her face and smiling proudly.

"Uh huh," Shamir repeated herself. "Does that offer have anything to do with your new casual dress? I've got to say, if you wore an outfit like that all the time, you and I might have had a different beginning to our partnership."

Now Catherine looked confused. "I wasn't wearing my armor when we first met...? You're acting weird. Anyway! It's a secret from everyone else for now, even the other knights. Once you hear it, you're not gonna be able to say no." Seeing a frown tighten further on her ally's face, Catherine clenched her teeth in a reassuring grin. "I mean you're not gonna want to say no! You take everything as a threat, huh?! Maybe it'll help if I put it another way. It's an opportunity for you to help Lady Rhea out and get paid without risking your neck or doing any boring work."

Shamir was conflicted. Too many things smelled off. Where had Rhea been recently? Why was Catherine dressing that way? And whatever offer Rhea had to make, why did she have to make it in a hidden underground lair? Earlier, she'd been able to easily detect the guileless Catherine was lying to her. Now, there hardly seemed to be a trace of deceit in her, even if she was beating around the bush getting to specifics.

Shamir wanted to believe her fellow knight. She didn't have many close allies, and she'd fought back-to-back with Catherine many times up to this point. As for Rhea, even if Shamir wasn't religious, the church leader was someone to whom she owed a debt she still hadn't repaid.

The archer realized she'd lowered her guard just slightly. She knew that if Catherine was primed for a fight or to take her somewhere by ****, she'd pounce on that opportunity to attack. In spite of that, the other knight remained friendly and conversational, letting Shamir consider the offer. That was enough basis for the archer to finally lower her bow. "All right. I'll believe you, but I wasn't joking about surprises. Sure you can't just tell me the offer? If it's a waste of my time, I want to get back to sleep."

"That's the spirit," Catherine joked rolling her eyes. "We're almost there, anyway. Just behind that door up ahead." She pointed her sparking sword towards it. The door looked secure, foreboding, and totally quiet. It gave Shamir the feeling of something like a panic room, a place to hide if the monastery was under ****. At the very least, it didn't appear to lock from the outside, so in spite of the dungeon-like trappings of the corridors around her, she was sure she wasn't being led into a jail cell.

Catherine threw the door open and with surprising ease. Even though Shamir guessed she was recently putting on weight in certain areas, it didn't seem she'd lost much of the muscle of training. "Rhea!" she shouted, shocking Shamir immediately by dropping the title for their boss. "I brought Shamir like you asked."

"Excellent work, Catherine," a woman who couldn't possibly be the Archbishop of the church of Seiros responded, rising from where she was seated next to a golden, rectangular box and moving the strange, heart-shaped spectacles she wore to the top of her head to meet eyes with Shamir directly. Even though she was speaking to Catherine, she didn't take her eyes off of the archer. "I'll see that you are rewarded accordingly, in the manner you've become accustomed to. Would that please you?"

"... Yes, Rhea!" Catherine replied, nodding her blonde head with an enthusiasm and twinkle in her eye Shamir had never seen before.

There were, in fact, a lot of things the worldly Shamir had never seen before in front of her now, so much so that her head was spinning trying to take stock of them. The small room was lined with more mirrors, silk curtains, and bedding than it seemed like a single woman could possibly need. The woman herself, apparently Rhea, was in a state of dress that disguised her as another woman entirely. Instead of a crown or flowers, her head was decorated with a tilted-up pair of gradient-tinted shades in the shape of hearts, with gold rims decorated in ornamental details similar to her usual headdress. Her face had heavier makeup than Shamir could have imagined on a ranking member of the church, nonetheless the archbishop. Her outfit seemed entirely transformed, with a fur-lined jacket patterned like her usual deep blue shawl, placed over a breezy white gown that was barely long enough to protect her dignity, wrapped by a thick gold belt at the waist. The gown's straps were spaghetti-thin, and the bright gold straps of an undergarment could be seen. The breasts, hips, and thighs of this woman were all voluptuous beyond all reason: there ought to have been audible creaking if she'd had it all stuffed into the gown Shamir was used to, and in Shamir's estimation, it made Rhea the most well-endowed woman at the Academy. Besides that, she seemed to be wearing a large amount of gaudy jewelry, including mismatched rings on most fingers and a gold chain around the neck decorated in the church's ornate emblems.

She had the long green hair, ethereal green eyes, fair skin, and saintly smile of the woman Shamir knew as Rhea, and when she spoke, the voice was the same. "Welcome, Shamir. I imagine you have many questions, but before you take any action, I insist you listen to this. Catherine, you must listen as well. The voice of our Goddess becomes clearer and more powerful. Indeed, She has provided us with new blessings-"

"Rhea," Shamir found her voice after some effort. "With respect, you know I don't buy into that. If I have some part in what you're doing here, I ask you to speak plainly."

Rhea didn't react negatively to the request, but Shamir thought she saw something challenging in her smiling eyes. She shut them, took a breath, then opened them again. Shamir had the weird feeling the Archbishop was about to tell a joke. "Shamir... As you know, the Church has been grateful for your service and tolerates your different opinions from our doctrine. It is understandable that, given your circumstances, you might find difficulty in seeing the Goddess' will at work in our world... However." She paused, turned, and moved towards the box on the table. "What I am about to show you is not recited word from long-ago scripture, nor is it an anecdote of how She works in our daily life. It is nothing less than direct proof of Her existence, Her will for us to carry out in Her place of worship."

If that was supposed to make Shamir feel relaxed, it wasn't working. The archer took a wary step back towards the door, only to find Catherine had shut it while she'd been distracted. "This is a job offer, right?"

"This is an awakening," Rhea replied cryptically, smiling and brushing a lock of her long, vibrant green hair away from her face as she bent over to interact with the box.

"...Rhea, why is your ass so huge?" Shamir tried a different, more direct tack of questioning. Also, with the item in question pointed her way, it was something she could hardly help but remark on.

"Again, an awakening," the well-endowed Archbishop spoke evenly, not looking offended. "Let us start." She reached one of her slender, ring-bearing fingers towards a button on top of the box. She pressed it, and when she did, Shamir felt the air in the room go still. Catherine, who had experience with the box, was surprised to see the button Rhea had pressed. Not just the fact that it wasn't the button that ordinarily made the music start: it was a button she hadn't even recognized on the box before, as if it had somehow been in a blind spot, even though it was right next to the others. A small whirring noise like machinery had started from the box as the button remained depressed. Rhea spoke in a commanding voice. "Catherine. Shamir. Ghost Dance." When she finished speaking, without her touching the box again, the previous button popped back out, and the one Catherine recognized with the triangle receded.

What happened next was something that was brand new to both of the Knights of Seiros. Anyone who saw it would be helpless to accept the presence of powerful magic at work.

Starting from the box itself, a ripple seemed to pass through the air, and a pool seemed to spread across the surfaces of the room. As Shamir witnessed it, it was less of a pool and more of a tear. The furniture, walls, and even the space of the room seemed to be tearing away, as if they were decorations and there was another area hidden behind. The decoration in the area they were being transferred to was like nothing Shamir had ever seen: the floor tiles shimmered as though they were made of glass, but lit below, and reflecting a pink light Shamir couldn't find the source of. By the time the box's influence had finished transforming the area, only the corners of the room and the metal door remained: the rest reflected what Shamir could only think of as an event space, with several tables to watch a floor show, and a variety of glowing, noodle-like neon-bright messages shimmering from the corners. All of those far-away details seemed almost two-dimensional, and Shamir sensed she might run into an invisible wall if she were to walk towards them. The room only looked bigger, in other words: its true dimensions were still the same.

Even more concerningly, when Shamir turned her head to Catherine, she saw that something bizarre had happened to her ally, who wore her same look of surprise. On Catherine's blonde, ponytailed head, a pair of fake white bunny ears had appeared on a headband. Her knight's armor had been replaced by a form-fitting one-piece outfit with the coverage of a swimsuit, extending from the peak of each breast to a high-legged lower half. Her legs were clad in thin, sheer red material, so tight to her muscular thighs that they threatened to tear from even slight movements, terminating in cherry-colored high heels that didn't suit her at all. Her wrists had white cuffs on them with red heart-shaped links, the kind which ought to accompany a formal outfit but joined to no sleeve at all here. In this state of dress, Shamir could also see what she'd suspected even when Catherine was clothed: the woman's body still had the fitness and muscles that ought to accompany her training, but her breasts and her ass in particular were now jaw-dropping. Shamir saw that the woman's nails were painted bright red, along with her lips.

As Shamir was still trying to figure out what was happening, Catherine put her fists on her hips and began rocking them back and forth in time with strange music that had begun blasting from the box in front of them. The music and hardly had any instruments Shamir could recognize from her travels in Fodlan or her home country... perhaps some kind of horn? Yes, definitely some horns. Regardless, it was a catchy beat, almost juvenile in its repetitiveness, and it seemed to lend itself to the kind of repetitive motion that Catherine was jiggling with next to her.

And which Shamir herself was now imitating in perfect time.

"What the Hel?!" Shamir grunted, clenching her teeth as she looked down at her own body. She could see enough to tell she was in a black version of the same outfit as Catherine, similar in every other detail except the size, the green tights and black heels, and the fact that it had spade-shaped cuff-links. Without actually looking at her own face, Shamir was sure she was wearing similar gaudy colored lipstick. All of this was secondary to the fact that she found herself locked to the motions and the timing she'd seen Catherine performing, shifting her hips to the same pendulum arc and stepping her feet in alternate timing as if performing a dance. No, not as if: she really was dancing alongside her fellow knight, for a certain measure of dancing. "What have you done to us?!"

Rhea, notably, was the sole person in the room who had not donned what Shamir was now thinking of as a "bunny suit" and begun a choreographed dance. Instead, she was in a seat at a lower elevation than the stage her two knights were on, crossing her legs and watching the two of them appreciatively. "I understand this is a new experience, Shamir. Please, do not be alarmed. Feel the will of the Goddess flow through you, and show me what She wishes of you. I am eager to see as well."

The only thing Shamir wanted to show her benefactor-turned-captor was a middle finger, but that didn't end up happening. Instead, the archer-turned-dancer crossed her arms behind her head, continuing to swing her hips in time with her friend and give Rhea a low-angle view. Occasionally, a predictable flourish of trumpets would appear in the song, and Shamir would find her arms with a mind of their own, guided by someone else's will: she'd shift to holding her hands with two digits up alongside her face, or her hips, or out in front of her, a gesture that didn't have any meaning to her. When she curled a finger in a come-hither gesture or held two fingers before her mouth and lapped her tongue between them, however, she could at least begin to guess what these lewd motions were supposed to represent. She turned over to her ally, wondering if Catherine had thought of a plan for them to escape...

She saw that Catherine was mirroring her same gestures, but more alarmingly, she was now wearing a big grin as she looked back at Shamir. "Now that's a nice look! You look like a natural already, Shamir." The music had the two of them turning now to poke their butts out towards the archbishop and continue the gratingly repetitive alternating steps that made them shake, with fists on their hips. "Rhea, how'd you come up with this?"

"I had little to do with it," Rhea shook her head, favoring her knight with a smile and watching her bouncing ass and ripping tights with pleasure. "The Goddess has been speaking to me and offering me new visions as I spend time basking in her voice. The new commands and what I understand to be the title of this work are divine inspiration." She turned her smile to Shamir's attractive, firm, but reasonably sized butt and intact tights, addressing her. "Your presence here is very important to me. It confirms something that was necessary: the faith and will of a participant is secondary to the will of the Goddess. I had begun to suspect this with Byleth's participation, but-"

"Rhea, have you gone insane?!" Shamir barked at the woman, even as a new synthetic instrument signaled for her to bend more sharply and begin teasing with very light and song-timed slaps to her own behind. "You've been testing out this dark magic on the faculty here?"

"You seem to be enjoying yourself so much, Shamir. Can you truly not recognize this as a blessing?"

Shamir focused fierce and sharp eyes on Rhea around her shoulder as the playful slapping continued. "I'm willing to do a lot of things for you, Rhea, but getting turned into your own magic-controlled tavern wench is where I draw the line." She heard both of the other two giggle, then raised her voice in protest. "I'm dead serious. I'm no one's **** sexual partner, non-negotiable. I'm here to use my skills to carry out your ideals, not shake my ass for you at your whim." As if to undermine her point, the music compelled her to bring that ass closer to Rhea, alternating steps and shakes with Catherine so their hips bumped in contact on every other beat.

"You've made yourself clear," Rhea admitted with a frown. Even as she admitted that, she reached out to teasingly brush the backsides of the two women with her palms. "Perhaps you are not yet a comfortable fit for the role as I imagined." Rhea's frown turned to a smile, and that mischievous look returned to her deep green eyes. "I believe I have something else to help with that."

Her two knights weren't in a good position to see Rhea reach for the box again, pressing another button that seemed to have magically come into focus. It featured two arrows with a line at the end. Earlier, a similar button had been shown to cause the music to pause and transform. This one functioned slightly different... Its effect didn't change the music, but made it louder.

Very loud.

Too loud!

For just a moment, the space was filled with music so loud it seemed to flashbang the senses, especially of Shamir, who wasn't yet attuned. As the dark-haired knight worked to screw her eyes open, she was aware she was continuing to perform the mindless dance automatically. She'd had a brief hope that she'd been snapped out of a nightmare, but it was clear that wasn't so when she looked down and saw she was still wearing the same bunny suit...

Well, almost wearing it. The knight's mature but slender figure, fit and ideal for an archer who had to remain hidden on the battlefield and move at a moment's notice, had been replaced. That is to say, in that brief flash of a moment, her breasts had ballooned out to match Catherine's, powerfully enough to displace the peaks of the bunny suit on her chest. The nipples of her unfamiliar body would be exposed if not for spade-shaped fabric of some kind that covered each. They were almost like glossy patches, but somehow adhered... In any case, they were the last of Shamir's concerns right now. The archer's arm wrapped around Catherine's waist to grab onto her hip, and when Catherine returned the gesture, she was aware the knight's arm was reaching around too much body. As she felt her hips shift, she was aware there was too much swinging weight... Doubtless, her own figure was now some approximation of Catherine's shape, leaving the two women shaking big and bouncy bottoms for their leader that had nothing to do with the muscles they'd earned from training.

Rhea reached out and squeezed a cheek of each woman, which is how Shamir became aware that the leggings she'd been wearing had also been shredded by her expanding ass and thighs. Before that, Shamir hadn't been aware of how Rhea intended perverting her body to be an effective method of earning her compliance. Now, she understood. The contact sent an electric shiver through her body, one that corresponded with a gasp escaping Catherine's lips. It still didn't feel right, necessarily, but it definitely felt nice.

Like an enemy projectile she'd been a step too slow to avoid, a thought shot into Shamir's head: the thought that it'd been a long time since she'd let herself be touched by another woman in such an intimate way, and that the ability to get that kind of touch was almost unheard of in a place like the monastery until now. That tear in her armor turned out to be a bigger hit than she thought. Quickly, as that thought bounced around and her Archbishop's hand traveled her ass, Shamir found herself admitting she craved the contact. The knight life now and the mercenary life before it required her to remain constantly guarded in order to effectively protect herself, and to avoid losing anything she cared about. But down here, in this room, there were no enemies. There was no danger. There was the unreasonably sexy woman behind her, who was now rubbing some sort of scented oil onto the asscheeks of the knights who had loyally served her, and there was her partner beside her, the proud knight known as Thunderstrike Catherine who'd fought shoulder-to-shoulder with her until this day.

Now, Catherine was shoulder-to-shoulder with her, still her partner and sharing her experiences, but whatever pride the storied knight had carried was left outside the room. Shamir was now understanding this oiling must be the special prize Rhea had promised Catherine, which she now understood Catherine had been anticipating breathlessly. The woman's painted lips were pursed into a coo of pleasure, the woman's fierce eyes cast skyward as if the sensation was unbearable. It was the look of a woman in ecstasy.

Shamir could understand. Still, even as the safeguards she'd put around her brain to protect herself fell to shambles, Shamir felt she at least had a reputation to maintain. Even in the bedroom with another woman, Shamir had always wanted to project a calm confidence that projected she was reliable and self-reliant, in charge of herself. Now, trying to maintain that was suffering: Shamir found herself clenching her teeth as her fair, meaty ass was kneaded and oiled-up by soft hands, her ordinarily sharp and well-trained violet eyes rolling up at the new sensation in spite of herself.

When Rhea spoke again, it was with the confidence of a woman who understood she already had what she wanted. Her voice was soft, but some playfulness was mixed in with her ordinary dignity. "Shamir, your dancing is exemplary. You're worthy of the same reward as Catherine."

Shamir only grunted, worried what her voice would sound like if she tried to talk. She and Catherine were waving two extended fingers by each other's sides now, and Shamir found the lack of a gripped hand making it even harder to maintain her discipline.

"Shamir," Rhea continued. "I'd be happy if you'll continue to join your partner here in dancing for me, for the glory of our Goddess. I'll pay you one and half times your current rate if you see fit to do so. Would that please you, my knight?"

Shamir nodded, still unwilling to talk. The idea of going back to being a ****-dealing and practiced archer on a battlefield felt insane to her in this position. She was still at least in enough possession of herself to understand the feeling was both dangerous and, itself, insane, but it felt impossible to resist.

Rhea smiled. "That's excellent. You've earned the extra pay. Only... the decorations in this room were, I'm ashamed to say, very expensive. The Church's coffers are, sadly, somewhat empty. Therefore, I'd propose to continue to pay you your current rate, as-is and offer you the same rewards as Catherine for additional service." She paused to give Catherine a firm slap on the woman's broad, tan haunches, causing an audible rip to form in the already-stressed red tights and a shameless moan to escape the knight. "Does that suit you, Shamir?"

Shamir shrugged her shoulders as her bottom continued to bounce and her knees continued to step in alternating rhythm, nodding and trying to appear as aloof as she could.

"Hmm..." Rhea's saintly smile became a bit devilish now as she continued to enjoy the two asses in front of her. "Catherine, I need a way to afford Shamir's new services. What if I were to propose that, as a cost-saving measure, I will stop paying you entirely? That your wages will consist entirely of what you are able to earn performing this glorifying dance for the people, and I will pay you only in the types of pleasures you are currently experiencing?"

"Yes!" Catherine agreed immediately, sounding happy about the arrangement. "You can count on me, Rhea!"

"And you, Shamir?" Her soft, motherly voice didn't match her words. "As a former mercenary, I understand the money might be more important to you. Hypothetically, if I were only able to pay you in comforting oil and the forceful application to your booty thereof, would you be willing to forego your ordinary wage as an elite knight to instead shake that big booty of yours for tips, like an especially gifted tavern wench? Understanding before you answer that, should you reject this offer, the touch of both Catherine and mine will be withdrawn from you?"

"... I would," Shamir admitted, her eyes wrenched shut in an uncharacteristic face of shame.

"You would for the glory of our Goddess?" Rhea asked her again, pointedly.

"... I would for the glory of our Goddess," Shamir corrected herself in a small voice. This experience hadn't awakened any new belief in her about the reality of a guiding deity in Fodlan, but it had awakened a desire to tell the woman behind her whatever she wanted to hear. She'd known Rhea to be a dangerous woman on the battlefield, but had never suspected she might be a dangerous woman in a bedroom, too.

"Excellent!" Rhea replied, sounding genuinely thrilled. She put her own cheek to Shamir's ass and rubbed against it affectionately, even turning her head to plant a kiss on an exposed part of it. "Well, you'll be pleased to hear this was simply a hypothetical. I have every intention of continuing to have your wages paid, as I value your services. I simply wanted to confirm the depth of your oath to me, that is all. I am most pleased with the two of you. Most... pleased..." she cooed, adjusting her hand from grabbing the two women's asses to gently rubbing between their legs.

Immediately, in synchronized motions Shamir found agency-robbing and humiliating, both she and Catherine collapsed to their knees, moaning as they allowed their sensitive bodies to be pleasured by their Archbishop. **** to continue some form of dance, both of them moved their enhanced asses against the air to grind themselves against the thin fingers. Rhea continued to speak as she moved her hands. "Catherine, how do you feel about having Shamir as your partner in this endeavor?"

"You know I trust Shamir more than anyone besides yourself," Catherine gasped with a slightly-goofy smile. "It pleases me immensely... you've chosen to share the Goddess' gifts with her! There's no one I'd rather have at my side... on the battlefield or on the stage!"

"And Shamir? How do you feel about having Catherine as your partner?"

Being commanded to tell how she felt about Catherine somehow felt more shameful than anything else Shamir had been **** to endure. She tried to keep her cool and the color out of her face, even as her costumed body lewdly humped her employer's hand. "Catherine is a beautiful woman. I couldn't ask for a better partner."

Catherine seemed embarrassed by this unexpected and frank remark, looking at Shamir with wide blue eyes.

"Indeed! You're both beautiful bunnies," Rhea replied, giving both of her trained knights a perhaps condescending pat-pat on the bottom. "I think it would be lovely if you'd renew your oath of partnership here before the goddess, together with your oath of loyalty to me."

Shamir nodded, understanding Rhea's command faster than she thought Catherine did. Without hesitation, after the two quickly rose to their feet and continued their stepping, hip swinging dance, Shamir wrapped an arm around the back of Catherine's head. She briefly smirked at Catherine's look of surprise before drawing her in and locking their lips for a kiss as the dance continued. It was only a moment compared to the entire dance so far, and when Shamir withdrew, she felt like it hadn't been a big deal. It felt right, especially considering the atmosphere of the room and the order she'd been given.

Catherine, on the other hand, still looked girlishly shocked. Her face said she didn't understand why Rhea had issued the command, nor the way Shamir had fulfilled it.

"How wonderful," Rhea approved, clapping her hands together. "I can tell the Goddess is pleased by your commitment." Looking at peace, Rhea reached over and pressed the button to turn off the music.

As the music shut off, the room underwent another startling transformation. Immediately, the new decorations and space sucked back into the box at its center. The outfits that Shamir and Catherine had previously worn were replaced by approximations of their earlier outfits: Catherine's loincloth was back, but Shamir's had changed, with both her corset and her pants drawing upward so that her flat belly and newly-plump thighs were exposed. Rhea smiled approvingly at Shamir's new appearance. "As you can see, you're back to normal," she commented, ignoring the skimpier clothing and new endowed proportions. "In this condition, I'm afraid I must again ask you to confirm your commitment."

"I'm on board," Shamir replied quickly, crossing her arms behind the back of her head comfortably. "If I get to make money without risking my neck, I've got no reason to complain. Even better if it's with Catherine."

Rhea noticed Catherine still looked puzzled, but only continued to smile. "Excellent. The two of you must understand that plans are in motion. I know this is abrupt, but I must temporarily shift to the discussion of strategy in matters of Garreg Mach." Her face grew serious and, if one ignored the gaudy shades on her head, it would be easy to once again treat her as the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros. "Just yesterday, evidence was discovered in this area that points to awareness of my activities in this place. Specifically, a member of the Black Eagles house has likely been made aware of what I have been up to. It is no matter; I have not been idly enjoying the comfort of other women and the music of the Goddess in this place." She confidently flipped her hair, as if someone had made such an accusation and she was happy to be proving them wrong. "I have finished the task which has been the purpose of my seclusion. Tomorrow, I shall deliver announcements which shall make clear the will and presence of the Goddess at work to the unenlightened."

This had both Catherine and Shamir looking at each other uncertainly. Catherine was the one to speak. "That's very exciting, Lady Rhea," she replied, slipping back into the term of respect based on Rhea's dramatic proclamation. "I had been under the, um... perhaps mistaken impression that this would be a sort of, er, secret relief for you from your daily duties. That is, a private affair between you and your trusted faculty." Both she and Shamir were now comfortable with the idea that they would be privately attending to Rhea, but the idea that such performances could go public was a shock. "This is a blessing granted privately to those loyal to the Goddess and her servants. Is that not so?"

"Hmhmhm," Rhea giggled, beaming widely. "No, Catherine. That is not so. Shortly, the blessings of the Goddess shall be granted for everyone to enjoy."