Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 388: Passion

"No, no, NO! Your tail needs to move WITH your hips, not against them!"

Rakia grabbed Melisa’s tail, positioning it while simultaneously pushing her hips forward. The touch sent sparks up Melisa’s spine.

"Like this! Feel the connection!"

They’d been at this since dawn. The festival started at sunset, and Rakia had insisted on one final, perfect run-through. The problem was that Rakia’s definition of "perfect" kept changing.

"Now spin, but keep your tits centered!"

"How do I keep my tits centered while spinning?"

"With PASSION!"

Melisa attempted the move. Her foot caught on the hem of the ceremonial skirt—if you could call three inches of fabric a skirt—and she went down hard, face-first into the practice mat.

"Better! But next time, fall with intention!"

"I didn’t mean to fall at all!"

"Art is about embracing the unexpected!" Rakia hauled her up, hands lingering on Melisa’s waist. "Again! And this time, imagine you’re seducing the entire audience!"

"The entire audience?"

"Every. Single. Person."

[That’s like ten thousand people.]

"I can’t seduce ten thousand people!"

"Not with that attitude!"

They ran through it again. This time Melisa managed not to fall, though her tail did smack Rakia in the face during a turn.

"Perfect! The audience loves violence!"

"That was an accident!"

"The best art always is!"

Finally, mercifully, Rakia called an end to the torture.

"You’re ready. Well, ready-ish. Well, you won’t completely embarrass us!"

"Your confidence is overwhelming."

Rakia kissed her. Casually, so casually Melisa’s mind barely registered it.

"For luck! Now go get cleaned up. Can’t have you smelling like sweat and desperation on stage."

"I thought desperation was the goal?"

"Sexual desperation, not physical exhaustion desperation! Learn the difference!"

---

Melisa walked through the palace, mind churning. The Shadow Mages had been too quiet. No more assassination attempts, no more false flag operations. They were planning something for tonight. Had to be.

[If I were them, what would I do?]

The obvious play: kill the Matriarch during the festival and frame Melisa. Again. But that seemed too simple, too expected. They’d tried it once already.

[Maybe something during our performance? Make it look like nim magic went wrong?]

She passed guards in ceremonial armor, their weapons polished but sharp. Servants hung garlands of silver and purple flowers. The air itself felt charged with anticipation.

A group of nim merchants walked by, chatting about booth positions. They nodded respectfully to Melisa. One even smiled.

[Or maybe they’ll target the nim directly. Start a riot, make it look like we attacked first.]

Her tail twitched anxiously. There were, actually, a lot of possibilities.

"Melisa!"

She turned to find Silviana approaching, dressed in full ceremonial regalia. The white silk barely contained her assets, and her nine tails swayed hypnotically behind her. Every step she took made something bounce.

"Matriarch."

"Walk with me. We need to discuss tonight’s sequence."

They strolled through the gardens while Silviana explained the evening’s timeline.

"First, the opening ceremonies. Traditional prayers, lighting of the lunar fires, boring speech from Lord Yoshimitsu about unity—"

"Boring?"

"Deadly boring. The woman could make an orgy sound tedious." She waved her hand. "Then the first performances. Acrobats, fire dancers, the usual. You and Rakia go on third."

"Third?"

"Best spot. The crowd’s warmed up but not drunk yet."

[Comforting.]

"After your performance, there’s the unity ceremony."

"Which is?"

Silviana grinned.

"Representatives from each race demonstrate their cooperation through intimate connection."

Melisa stopped walking.

"Intimate connection?"

"Just kissing! Mostly. Though if you want to do more—"

"Kissing is fine!"

"Spoilsport. Anyway, you’ll be representing the nim, obviously."

"And you’re representing the kitsune?"

"Naturally."

"So we’re going to..."

"Make out in front of ten thousand people, yes."

Melisa’s face went purple.

"No one mentioned this before!"

"I’m mentioning it now! Besides, we have excellent chemistry. The crowd will eat it up."

[I’m going to die. This is definitely how I die.]

"After that?"

"Feast, more performances, probably at least three orgies in the side gardens—"

"Three!?"

"Conservative estimate. Festival night brings out everyone’s hunger."

They stopped at a balcony overlooking the main plaza. Workers put finishing touches on the stage, a massive platform that looked like it was grown rather than built, all curves and organic shapes.

"Whatever they’re planning," Silviana said quietly, "we’re ready."

"You sound confident."

"I have the entire guard on alert, magical wards at maximum strength, and spotters in the crowd." She turned to Melisa. "Plus I have you."

"I’m just a student."

"Oh, please. You’re the nim who saved a king." Silviana’s hand touched Melisa’s cheek. "Don’t sell yourself short."

The touch sent heat through Melisa’s body.

"Matriarch—"

"Tonight, after everything’s over, come to my chambers."

"I—what?"

"To discuss diplomatic relations." Her thumb stroked Melisa’s cheekbone. "Aria mentioned you were interested in developing those."

[Oh god, they talked about me.]

"That’s not exactly what—"

"Bring her too, if you’d like. I’m sure we could all benefit from closer ties."

Before Melisa could respond, Silviana pulled away.

"Now go. You need to prepare, and I need to go pretend Lady Yoshira’s speech rehearsal is fascinating."

She walked away, her hips swaying enough to cause structural damage to lesser beings’ self-control.

[I need a cold bath. Or a lobotomy.]

Back in her quarters, Melisa found controlled chaos.

Isabella was doing Armia’s makeup, which mostly consisted of Armia trying to sit still while Isabella straddled her lap.

"Stop moving!"

"You’re sitting on my dick!"

"And? I’ve sat on your dick lots! Hold still!"

Margaret brushed Hazel’s hair while the younger nim bounced with excitement.

"Is Melisa really going to dance on the big stage?"

"She is!"

"Will there be fire?"

"Probably!"

Raven sat in a corner, methodically checking hidden blade positions even though they’d been asked not to bring weapons.

"Melisa!" Kimiko appeared with the ceremonial outfit. "Time to get dressed!"

"Already?"

"The sun’s setting in an hour! And we need at least thirty minutes just to figure out how these chains work!"

The next half hour involved far too many hands on Melisa’s body as everyone tried to help. The chains kept tangling. The skirt kept riding up—or down, depending on perspective. The top refused to stay down, like it wanted to show off Melisa’s boobs.

"There!" Isabella stepped back. "Perfect!"

Melisa looked in the mirror. The purple silk matched her skin so perfectly she really did look naked from a distance, just covered in strategic gold chains. Every breath made something shift dangerously.

"I can’t wear this in public."

"Too late!" Rakia burst through the door. "We’re on in twenty minutes!"

She wore something equally revealing in bright orange and pink, with bells sewn into strategic places that chimed when she moved.

"You look edible!" She grabbed Melisa’s hand. "Come on! Destiny awaits!"

"Wait, I need to—"

But Rakia was already dragging her out the door.

The walk to the plaza felt like a dream. Or a nightmare. Possibly both. Citizens lined the streets, cheering and pointing. Music drifted from every direction. The air smelled like incense and fried food and anticipation.

"Nervous?" Rakia asked.

"Terrified."

"Good! Terror makes the best art!"

They reached the performer’s area behind the stage. Other acts warmed up—acrobats stretching, fire dancers practicing forms, musicians tuning instruments. Everyone stopped to stare as they passed.

"The nim mage," someone whispered.

"She’s really going to perform?"

"Those tits can’t be real."

"I heard she shoots blue fire from her hands."

"I heard she fucked the Matriarch."

[That one hasn’t happened. Yet. Oh god, why am I thinking about yet?]

"Two minutes!" a stage manager called.

Melisa’s heart hammered. Through gaps in the curtains, she could see the crowd. Thousands upon thousands of kitsune and nim, packed into the plaza and spilling into side streets. Paper lanterns floated overhead like stars.

On the main platform, Lady Yoshira, an older kitsune, was indeed giving a speech. Silviana stood beside her, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

"...and through unity, we forge a bond stronger than steel, deeper than the ocean, more enduring than—"

The crowd politely clapped as she finally finished.

Silviana stepped forward. Even from here, Melisa could feel her presence, commanding and sexual and powerful all at once.

"Citizens of Yalmir! Tonight we celebrate not just the moon’s blessing, but the joining of our peoples! Tonight, nim and kitsune stand as equals!"

The crowd roared.

"And now, to demonstrate that unity through art—Rakia Sunweaver and Melisa Blackflame!"

[Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.]

"That’s us!" Rakia grabbed her hand. "Remember—passion, desperation, and a little violence!"

"Violence?"

"Trust me!"

The curtains parted.

Ten thousand faces stared up at them.

The music began.

[Here we go.]