Page 7 of His Christmas Wife

In the time they’d been gone, the area had emptied out. Even the check-in desk appeared to have been shut down.

Moments later, the lights flickered three times, then dimmed. Midsong, the music abruptly stopped, and the club thundered with an expectant silence.

Despite herself, she looked at Frost, and he shook his head. “I don’t know anything more than you do.”

Maybe she should have watched from inside the dungeon.

Noise behind them caught Kaylee’s attention, and she glanced over her shoulder to see a sleigh being pulled into the area.

For Santa?

On the wall, the monitor blinked to life just as the startling sound of a trumpet blast reverberated from a nearby speaker.

A camera focused on the balcony that was halfway between the second-floor private rooms and the dungeon. Almost instantly, a crier appeared, wearing garb that could have come from medieval times.

“Hear ye; hear ye!” After a short, dramatic pause, he continued. “Tonight, we present to you the royal court.” With a great dramatic flair, he extended his arm and pointed to the top of the stairs.

Wearing a cloak, Trinity descended, stopping to curtsy and wave from the landing.

Aviana’s Dungeon Master, Tore, was next. The man was massive, straining the seams of his black vest.

Just then, having finished her descent of the staircase, Trinity pushed through the door to join Kaylee and Frost and to line up for the parade.

“That was something,” Frost observed.

Trinity grinned. “Milady does enjoy a spectacle.”

With every event, she continued to raise the bar. Rumor had it, she consulted with a Hollywood producer to brainstorm her ideas. From what Kaylee had seen so far, she believed it.

On the small screen, Master Mason and Hannah, his very pregnant wife, descended. Earlier in the year, the Dominant had made a significant donation to Aviana’s favorite charity—by way of the slave auction where he won a weekend with Hannah, who was now his bride. So it didn’t surprise Kaylee that they were part of the royal entourage.

As the chief dungeon master joined Trinity, billionaire hotel magnate Rafe Sterling and his fiancée, Hope Malloy, were announced.

Kaylee tried to tear her gaze away from the monitor so she could chat with the new arrivals, but what appeared next riveted her attention.

Two of Mistress Aviana’s slaves made their way down the staircase wearing tight black pants and leather harnesses, and volunteers quickly attached the pair to the front of the sleigh, which made sense. Naturally the owner would ride in that.

The crier blasted his trumpet again.

Around Kaylee, conversation halted as their attention was drawn to the screen, and a camera zoomed in on Mistress Aviana who spread her arms wide.

She was breathtaking in a one-piece silver outfit that might have been painted on. Either that or the fabric was sleek, unlike anything Kaylee had ever seen.

The owner’s high-heeled silver lamé boots reached midthigh. She’d accented the look with a glacial-blue cape bearing a rigid collar that framed her face. The garment’s train was so long that parts of it were draped on the stairs behind her.

That alone would have been amazing, but she’d taken her outfit a step further, and tonight her white hair flirted with her ankles. On her head rested a crown fashioned with spears topped with glowing snowflakes.

The camera zoomed in on her wide, violet eyes that were fringed with long, frosted lashes. With a precise back-and-forth motion, she waved like the royalty she was.

The attendees responded with wild applause, along with loud whoops and hollers of approval.

Two elves hurried to offer their assistance as she began a slow descent into the dungeon.

Behind Kaylee, Tore cleared his throat.

Once he’d snagged everyone’s attention, Trinity glanced around before speaking. “Is everyone ready? As soon as Milady joins us, the parade will begin. We’ll proceed in the same order that we came down the stairs.”

Excitement buzzing in the air, court members lined up, and volunteers offered them piles of beads.

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