As Annan approached the garden, he quietly put on his Black Gemstone earring. He had made a mistake—he had forgotten that he was now an Elite Sorcerer. When he appeared in the garden wearing the earring, looking as graceful as an elf, he drew every eye like the star of an opera stepping onstage.
The girls simply thought the boy was beautiful, but in the women, he awakened an instinctive Love of beautiful things. They gazed, entranced, at his face. His black eyes were like stars, yet held a disarming, innocent foolishness—or so quite a few of the ladies thought.
It gave them the illusion that luring Annan into bed would be as easy as making a beggar bark for bread.
Annan realized something was wrong and reached to remove the earring, but it was too late.
"I've never seen you before, you beautiful stranger." A plump lady approached him first, a fluorescent green glint behind her narrow eyeglasses.
"I'm not from around here." Annan smiled with an inviting warmth.
"Where are you from?"
"Middle Earth."
"Oh, I thought the Elven Royal Court was in Wilhelm." Another lady came over. She was tall and thin, with a face as long as a shoe sole.
"I've met an elf, and even he wasn't as handsome as you." A pretty woman approached with a wineglass in hand.
Gradually, the Women around Annan formed a wall of flesh that nearly enclosed him.
Like a Lady who had wandered into a men's banquet, Annan found himself surrounded by the women of Flower Capital, his nose filled with their clashing, pungent perfumes.
Just as he was about to sneeze, a hand caught his and pulled him through the wall the ladies had deliberately formed.
They hid behind a flower bed. The Girl crouched there, patting