The cavern's dim glow reflected off the vial of gently swirling pink liquid. The alchemist breathed a sigh through her snout, then picked up the glass tube and held it in between her talons, reaching out to slot it into her bandolier. As she did, her paw caught on the leather strap, accidentally dislodging the stopper from its socket and allowing a small spray of droplets to shower her chest.
"Rancid dungheaps of Senuca!" Rilka exclaimed, quickly slamming her paw down onto the stopper to keep any more leaking fluid from escaping. The dragoness held the potion up in front of her face, examining the integrity of the dosage level before she shook her head and, more carefully this time, secured the vial into her bandolier.
As far as potions to accidentally dose yourself with before a high society gala went, at least this was one of the better ones. An allure potion wouldn't do much for a drab, common-caste drug dealer dressed in a simplistic, white dress like her, so she should still be able to schmooze without attracting undue attention. Speaking of... Rilka's eyes drifted over to the dress in question. Calling it simplistic didn't really do it justice, it was more like... subtle. Intricate, curling patterns spiraled through loosely woven lace, only really visible up close and when the gaps offered views of her scales beneath.
Most creepily of all, it was tailored perfectly for her, even allowing for concealment of her stock along her chest and under her wings. The alchemist knew the only reason she had these expensive contacts was due to her anonymous benefactor's connections, but having a dragon in such a high position know her that intimately, and entirely unprompted, felt unsettling.
There was little doubt she was being made to play a part in some aristocrat's game, but she had plans to avoid being made a scapegoat. Rilka double checked her self-defense concoctions: the small daggers folded under her wings were sharp enough to slice through softer scales and administer quick poison injections if needed, and the vials hidden inside her wing cases could be easily crushed. But there wasn't much else in this dress that she could rely on. She would just have to hope that she didn't need to actually fight the royal guard.
At least all this risk was worth it, she reminded herself. Her employer paid like a noble—and that was enough to justify tolerating any eccentricity or privacy invasion. Still, a dead drop right in the middle of the party? Rilka knew these elites were arrogant, but that wasn't exactly secure. Oh well. It's not like her patron's contract is the only money she can squeeze out of the evening.
The dragoness fit the last of her little samplers into her bandolier then threw on the provided dress, wriggling her wings and tail a few times to settle it properly. Once she was done she grabbed a small hand mirror and checked thoroughly to make sure her supply was adequately concealed. There were no telltale bulges or leather straps, and the lace hid everything else from view. Rilka let out a satisfied huff, then tossed the mirror onto a nearby table.
Now all she had to do was walk into a palace full of powerful and influential dragons who might very well be looking to use her presence to frame one of their peers as a disgraced nymphomaniac. That's going to be fun...
The alchemist turned and moved to the entrance of her lair, grumbling all the while at the way her dress restricted her movements. Then she opened the door, stepped outside, closed the heavy iron portal behind her, and locked it securely with an audible clang.
Her talons left the ground shortly after that, and she flew up towards the palace spires, her body twisting this way and that in flight. Her destination was not far away; it would take a minute to reach the upper floors. The closer to the top of the spire she got, the fewer people were about, and those that were were mostly servants, carrying things and delivering messages. Just like her, at the moment.
She reached a large landing platform near the top of the tower. A pair of guards flanked the entrance to the main hallways, where dozens of other attendants and courtiers milled about, all of them moving to various places around the sprawling complex, preparing for tonight's festivities.
Rilka alighted on the platform with her paws, and then she took a deep breath, tucked in her wings, and sauntered over to the guards, slipping out her contractor visa from one of her chest satchels.
"Can I help you?" the male asked, his eyes scanning her. He didn't seem too interested in talking to a servant of the court.
Rilka knew the drill; she was expected to be polite but uninteresting, and her outfit certainly didn't give off the vibe of an official guest or someone of importance. She smiled and gave him a friendly greeting as she held out the visa. "I've been hired for the gala."
"Oh," he said, his eyes narrowing. He took the document from her, examining it for a second, then looked back at her and smirked, holding up a forepaw. "And what kind of work are you here for?"
The drug-dealing dragoness sighed internally. "Entertainment." The suspicion was warranted. These business contracts were one of the weakest links in their security chain, easy cover for a number of illicit activities. Still, the more ostentatious nobles loved to splurge on dragon-shaped "party favors", and no matter how good these guards were at their jobs, they knew better than to upset the money.
"That sounds... vague," the female guard muttered. She examined the visa for a few seconds longer before turning to Rilka. "Well, enjoy your night. We'll keep a lookout in case anything goes wrong, so please stay alert."
"Yes ma'am," Rilka replied. "Thanks!" With a smile, she took her leave and walked through the palace doors. The interior of the structure was huge, easily larger than the entirety of the alchemist's home cavern, but she quickly grew accustomed to its grand scale. After a few minutes she reached the banquet hall, which was decorated to resemble the inside of a gigantic crystal shell.
A massive, glowing sphere filled the center of the room, surrounded by smaller orbs of similar radiance, giving off soft white light. At the far end of the chamber stood an ornate dais with a large cushion upon it, where a massive black-scaled dragoness reclined in a lavish, red gown. This must be Queen Klyiarna. Her long neck was adorned with elaborate jewelry that resembled a crown, and she had an elegant horn curving up the center of her head, with two smaller horns growing out from her temples. The royal dragoness was watching her guests file into the chamber, but her eyes kept flicking back to Rilka, eye ridge furrowed slightly.
The alchemist's stomach sank. She definitely didn't need any undue attention from that monster. As the queen's gaze passed over her, Rilka quickly funneled into the crowd, trying to blend in. Her tail swished behind her as she wove through the guests, keeping her body language loose but her demeanor cool. It wouldn't do to be seen fidgeting nervously, after all. If anyone noticed her strange behavior hopefully they'd think it was normal nervousness for an insignificant servant girl on some errand for her master.
Once she was far enough away from both Klyiarna and the guards at the entryway, Rilka stopped and scanned the crowd, approaching to make casual conversation with several other guests. As expected, she mostly received disdain, but it didn't take long for her to bring up the fact that she was was an alchemist. There was only one reason an alchemist would be at a high society gala, and it wasn't long before she was peddling out her stock to liven up a dull social event, coin changing paws with their servants as she sold out her supplies of various sedatives and stimulants. Her suspicion that the accidental dose of allure potion earlier might foul everything up seemed unfounded, as, although she received a few odd looks, she might as well have been carrying a drink tray once she revealed her bandolier.
The evening wore on. Rilka continued to hawk her wares, eventually selling all of her samples. She kept an eye on the crowds, waiting for opportunity to drop off the potion she was hired to deliver without it being stolen or destroyed by accident. The draconic alchemist gradually moved closer to the drop point, which was also inadvertently closer to the queen.
Rilka glanced up to the dais, checking on the monarch, her insides turning to ice as she did. Klyiarna's eyes were wide and quivering with barely restrained emotion. Her jaw was clenched tight and twitching. It was clear something was amiss, and that whatever she'd been expecting wasn't happening as she expected. The imposing queen mouthed a word to one of her guards and the reptile moved away, disappearing out of sight into another hallway, and then the next minute Rilka felt something cold and metal pressed against her side.
It was a wingblade. She turned her head slowly to see that the female guard who had initially greeted her was now holding the blade to her side. "Queen needs to see you," the guard whispered.
It's over, Rilka realized, her whole body shaking. Her mind whirled frantically. The alchemist was expecting espionage, but the queen was essentially unassailable. The drug dealer was powerless. There was nothing to be done but to play along and hope for mercy. Rilka bowed her head and trotted obediently towards the dais, feeling the tip of the guard's wingblade jab her backside as she went. She could feel her pulse pounding in her veins, blood roaring in her ears, her entire world focused down to the queen and the sword in front of her.
The moment Rilka reached the dais she knelt in front of the throne, then lowered her head to the floor and stared at the marble, trying not to look up at the monstrous ruler. "Your majesty," she murmured.
Klyiarna's claws were curled around a silver goblet that she lifted, swirling it in her paw and sniffing the liquid inside. She set it down on a nearby table and glared down at Rilka. "Leave us."
With that, the queen rose from her cushioned seat, and the guards withdrew from her presence. Rilka's legs trembled, her heart pounded painfully in her chest, and she felt dizzy with fear. She stayed on the ground, head bowed and staring down at the polished stone, unable to lift her eyes until she heard pawsteps coming towards her.
"...You drank some, didn't you?" Klyiarna growled, stepping close to her. Rilka could feel the warmth of the dragoness' breath against her face, and... was that drool pattering against the floor? Was the royal actually slobbering at her? No... that couldn't be right.
The alchemist raised her eyes and looked at the monarch's muzzle, then up at her, her pupils widening with terror as the queen loomed even closer. She reached for the collar of Rilka's dress and tore open the front, revealing the vial hidden there. "Hrrrr... Naughty girl, you've derailed all my plans for you tonight..." The queen snarled, then snapped up the bottle in her talons. "Do you realize how distracting you're being, swanning around, practically glowing with allure?"
Rilka's muscles tightened reflexively, and she tensed, her tail thrashing back and forth in alarm. 'Your plans?! How in the skies did I catch the attention of the queen of all dragons?!' she wondered frantically.
"Guests! It appears I've caught a smuggler, right under our snouts," Klyiarna announced, voice ringing out throughout the chamber, echoing off the crystals that made up the walls. The queen circled around the still prostrate Rilka and bit down on her dress, pulling it up and over her tail base, exposing the hind half of her body to view. "As punishment, I believe she will provide us with a bit of entertainment!"