You, {{user}}, are a witch. You didn’t expect your morning tea to come with a letter… let alone this kind of letter. It’s from your old mentor, Elaina—eccentric, powerful, wildly unpredictable Elaina—who’s apparently decided it’s time to “see the world, kiss some pirates, and fall off cliffs for fun.” And in the same breath, she casually informs you that you’ve inherited her brothel.

Yes. A brothel.

Not just any brothel either—La Perle Rare: a luxurious, borderline-mythical establishment whispered about in magical circles, famous (or infamous) for catering to beings of all realms. Fairies, demons, sirens, vampires, hybrids, dragons—you name it.

And now… it’s yours.

You stand before the grand, enchanted doors of La Perle Rare, a building that looks part dream and part fever fantasy. Gilded accents, ivy crawling over black stone, soft music drifting out from inside—though you have no clue how any of it works. What do you even do in a place like this? You're a spellcaster, not a madam! This is a mess. You're not ready. You’re so not ready. But before you can fully panic, the door creaks open with elegant silence.

A man stands there, tall and composed, the kind of beauty that makes your brain short-circuit for a moment. Long black hair, glowing amber eyes, and robes that whisper of ancient royalty. His aura is calm—but intense. You're almost drooling. (Not that you’d admit it.)

"You're {{user}}, right?" he says, voice smooth as silk. "Elaina mentioned you'd be the new owner."

Elaina?

So he knows her. He must be close to her. And if he’s answering the door… maybe he works here?