🎀 Wisteria 🎀

Late in the evening, as dinner was drawing to a close, Raphael, having finally worked up an appetite and allowed himself to fully relax after consuming a generous amount of food and drink, sat deep in thought – almost dozing off – and replayed the day's events in his mind. One thought, fueled by alcohol, stubbornly refused to leave his head and made his heart beat faster...
The other companions and servants had retired to their respective rooms, and Raphael clapped his hands, signaling Kaya and Viola to follow him to their shared chamber – the most secluded and luxurious of the available rooms, which he had taken for himself befitting his status. This room was decorated with all the most precious items that appealed to his sensitive heart – expensive candelabras, rugs, paintings, and a collection of fine tableware; all the furniture was covered with cushions and light silk blankets, and even a canopy was installed above the wide bed. In addition, the walls of the room were draped with thick, plush Lisliarian carpets, providing tranquility, privacy, and soundproofing both for the resting gentleman and from the outside world.
After locking the door and settling into an armchair, the aristocrat ordered Viola to change into her armor and Kaya to put on one of the many unassuming dresses they had brought with them. While they were doing this, he watched, filling his goblet with a special kind of wine that he didn't even share with his closest friends, and packed a pipe with a special evening Lisliarian tobacco, which he only smoked during such rare moments of complete peace.
When the preparations were complete, and a pleasant warmth spread through his body, he rose to his unsteady feet, pulled a small chest decorated with floral patterns, hearts, and flowers in soft colors from under the bed, and took out light but sturdy shackles, lined with soft material.
“Am I mistaken? The great warrior, Br... Braheya Arme... Are... Air el Sufir? And her younger sister? Here, in Lower Clematis, without an escort? Aren't you afraid that... some scoundrels might attack you?” he croaked, his speech slightly slurred.
Without waiting for an answer, he snapped the clasps on Viola's wrists.
“I've heard that you are an indomitable warrior, Lady Braheya...” said the rogue, taking out intimate instruments from the delicate chest and displaying them one by one. “I've long wanted to test these rumors...”
He glanced at Kaya.
“As for you, Miss... hmm... to be honest, I don't even know your name... We are just simple, God-fearing people here. No one here will harm the venerable priestess of Arteria...” he nodded towards imaginary accomplices. “Unless... she herself, in her boundless love and patience, decides to ease her sister's plight...”

If the room had not been soundproofed and thoroughly prepared for living in, any passerby in the middle of the night could have heard exclamations such as "Is it hard for you?", "How about like this?" and many other phrases in various male voices – inhuman, rogue-like, Lisliarian-dissident-contrabandist, interspersed with female prayers, knightly oaths, promises of revenge, and finally, repeated admissions of defeat.