Midnight in Nomaani's Garden

[Kirro Meorrrei]

The luxurious, two thousand threadcount Calanic silk sheets were like heaven upon his skin, and Kirro let his tail shift smoothly between them. Like an emerald eel in the Crystal Lakes, the tufted appendage slipped lazily to wrap around Taataani's ankle as she made herself comfortable.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"All at jyourr jinssjisstence, Taataani."

He smiled knowingly.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

With Lyaster's arm draped over her shoulder, Taataani turned to face Kirro. Gone for the evening was her fine hairpiece, in it's place was the plain tuft of thin grey hair that no one beyond her innermost circle ever saw. It made her look older and more plain than she'd ever outwardly betray.

"All of the jinssjisstence jin the worrld can't command love. jYou could bankrrupt the galaxjy and neverr bujy jit, darrljing Kirro. jIt obejyss no massterrss, heedss no boundarrjiess."

The Rrou'fai's hand cradled her younger spouse's cheek.

"All we djid wass sset the table, dangljing hope frrom a thrread. jI've neverr trreated love wjith anjythjing lesss than the rresspect jit'ss due."