BWG - 3

During the season when flower buds burst into bloom, there is a rather unique festival. In hopes of a bountiful harvest for the year, farmers hold celebrations under the moonlight.  

On such nights, even the nobility join in the festivities. While some disdain mingling with commoners, others—especially young aristocrats who enjoy revelry—often disguise their identities to participate in the celebrations.  

Eleanor had little interest in the festival this year, given her many preoccupations. Still, she anticipated it as an opportune moment to meet Fertan and waited for the day to arrive.  

She had attended the moon-viewing festival several times with friends in the past. It was customary to wear simple dresses modeled after commoner attire and avoid wearing jewelry.  

Of course, no matter how plain the dress appeared, the fabric and details were unmistakably refined, allowing those with a keen eye to discern that a noble lady was among the crowd.  

After finishing her preparations and stepping out of the mansion, Eleanor unexpectedly encountered her older brother, Edwin. Edwin scanned her outfit and frowned slightly—an unusual reaction from him.  

“Are you heading to the moon-viewing festival?”  

She responded casually:  

“Just going out for some fresh air.”  

“Given the timing, it might be better if you stayed in.”  

“I’ve been cooped up dealing with wedding preparations. I just need a change of pace—I’ll be back soon.”  

“Hmm… Be careful. Keep your guards close.”  

As she boarded the carriage, an odd feeling lingered.  

Edwin had always encouraged her social activities and never interfered like this before. Her popularity in society had played a role in securing her position as the crown princess, and even now, with the wedding just around the corner, she received more congratulations than envy. Since her outings often brought invisible benefits, there had been no reason to stop her.  

Was Edwin growing more sensitive as the wedding approached? Should she interpret his words as a gentle reminder to exercise caution, or was there something more serious at play? She couldn’t quite tell.  

Before heading to the festival, Eleanor stopped by the Bluewing Hotel. She handed a letter to the counter, instructing them to send a messenger immediately to Fertan. The note was brief:  

“Come to Mandit Hills in the southern capital. I’ll wait until 10 PM.”  

If Fertan happened to be out and their paths crossed, there was nothing she could do. Directly contacting him was awkward, so this method seemed the best option.  

At that moment, Liam, one of her guards, suddenly spoke up:  

“Why did you stop by this hotel?”  

A mere hired guard wasn’t in a position to question her whereabouts or intentions. This was unprecedented. Eleanor only knew his name, Liam, and they rarely exchanged words.  

Rather than irritation, she felt surprise. Having accompanied her to the Bluewing Hotel multiple times, Liam must have realized she was meeting someone—Fertan’s involvement wasn’t exactly a perfect secret.  

She felt a pang of unease. It seemed Liam had noticed more than she’d thought. Was he questioning her as part of surveillance?  

Quickly gathering her thoughts, Eleanor summoned a warm smile meant to charm her entourage, including the coachman and guards.  

“I had someone to meet briefly.”  

Her hastily fabricated excuse sounded flimsy. Originally, she had planned to separate the two, but now she decided to take her carriage directly to the festival site.  

Mandit Hills was a village located far from the city, requiring a lengthy carriage ride. She had deliberately chosen this remote location to avoid encountering familiar faces at the festival.  

The moon-viewing festival, being a modest rural celebration, differed from the bustling atmosphere of urban night markets. Instead of massive crowds, each village held its own festivities. A large pile of firewood for the bonfire stood in an open field, surrounded by logs serving as makeshift chairs.  

Though the village’s overall mood was subdued and its residents lived in poverty, there were clear efforts to celebrate the festival in their humble way.  

Eleanor watched a wrestling match among the villagers with amusement, then called over an elderly man who appeared to be the village chief and handed him a generous sum of money—a personal donation to support the festival.  

Later, she discreetly placed a gold coin in Liam’s palm.  

After much thought during the festival, she concluded that Liam required special attention. From what she knew of him, he wasn’t particularly loyal to anyone—he was competent enough and dutiful to the ducal household, but not excessively so. If he reported her visits to the Bluewing Hotel, the most likely recipient would be Edwin, their master.  

“You’ve been working hard.”  

“Oh, not at all!”  

Liam looked surprised at the hefty gold coin before quickly pocketing it. So, he was someone who appreciated money. She’d need to occasionally bribe him to keep quiet.  

“When I marry, I’ll be able to bring some of my people into the palace. Naturally, I’ll need trustworthy guards.”  

She subtly stoked his ambition. The difference between a guard in a noble household and a palace guard was vast. If Liam kept his mouth shut, she genuinely intended to consider him for a position in the palace.  

“I will serve you faithfully, Lady Eleanor.”  

“Thank you. I hope you’ll also treat the coachman well.”  

She handed over coins for the coachman too. All she could do now was hope that these gestures would silence her companions.  

“By the way, why did you ask about my visit to the Bluewing Hotel?”  

“Ah… Lord Edwin instructed me to report your outings in detail for the time being.”

“Reporting my outings?”  

“Yes, that was the order I received.”  

Eleanor maintained a bright smile, careful not to reveal her growing unease.  

“I just went to a village festival. Where else would I go? Right?”  

“Uh, yes, yes! Of course.”  

Fortunately, Liam seemed to understand. Assuming his demeanor wasn’t deceptive, it appeared she had successfully secured his loyalty before Edwin could intervene further.  

Though the immediate crisis was averted, her mood grew increasingly uneasy. Edwin’s behavior was suspicious—why had he suddenly changed his stance at this critical juncture?  

With Fertan, who reeked of danger, added to the mix, Eleanor felt as though she were caught in a precarious whirlpool. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was at the center of an intense game of espionage. On top of that, there was the matter of Marcron’s request to deliver the ring—and whether it was even safe to do so.  

Her thoughts were a tangled mess.  

As the time came to light the bonfire, the festivities began in earnest. Villagers brought food from their homes to share, toasted with cheap alcohol, and laughed heartily amidst the lively atmosphere.  

A cute village child offered Eleanor what they claimed was the best meat and bread, and surprisingly, it was quite edible. While high-class banquets had their charm, there was something refreshingly novel about the rustic vibe of a commoner’s celebration.  

After several rounds of drinking, young men and women danced to the sound of a violin. The bonfire crackled, sending small sparks into the air, while couples leapt energetically, competing to outdo one another in their spirited dances.  

Around the brightly burning fire, villagers passed bottles back and forth, drinking heartily.  

However, by early evening, a considerable number of empty bottles already littered the dirt ground. While drinking was an essential part of any festival, it seemed excessive this time.  

Eleanor had long been aware of the illicit liquor trade flourishing in the shadows, but this year’s festival seemed markedly worse than last year’s. Though laws existed to regulate illegal alcohol production, enforcement and punishment were virtually nonexistent. She had often suspected that the authorities turned a blind eye, given how cheaper liquor was readily available compared to a proper meal. Many drank alcohol instead of eating.  

The issues gnawing at her mind—the overly frequent royal banquets, the ever-expanding scale of Leonard’s wedding preparations, and concerns about the nation’s finances—were compounded by the sight of drunken peasants.  

While watching a group of intoxicated farmers, lost in thought, a familiar figure emerged on the other side of the bonfire.  

‘Fertan…’  

His face was shadowed by a hood, but his characteristic smug expression seemed visible even in the darkness.  

For some reason, even his stillness exuded a cocky nonchalance.  

She had so much to say to him, but her focus wavered the moment she noticed his presence.  

‘What was I supposed to ask first again?’  

Before she could mentally review her prepared list, she felt as if he had already seized control of the situation.  

He pulled his hood lower, subtly nodding toward her entourage.  

“Liam, I’m going to meet someone. Stay here and don’t leave.”  

“You’re going alone? That’s…”  

“Don’t worry about me. I expect you to prove your worth as a future retainer of the crown princess.”  

Slipping him another gold coin, she quietly rose from her seat. Taking advantage of Liam’s hesitation, she slipped away from the clearing and melted into the shadows.  

The yellow glow of the bonfire illuminated only half of Fertan’s shoulder. From the slight curve of his jawline, his lips seemed to rise like those of a mischievous puppet. What was so amusing? She lamented her decision to meet this morally bankrupt man.  

‘Don’t lose your composure,’ she reminded herself. This wasn’t his house or his bed. “Ring, conspiracy, ulterior motives,” she muttered under her breath, standing tall like a knight before a duel.  

At that moment, Fertan flicked his hand.  

He extended his arm casually, palm facing her, then crooked a finger arrogantly—like calling a dog.  

‘That insolent jerk…’  

She couldn’t bring herself to shout, but the insult slipped out anyway. Shocked by her own words, she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.  

He teasingly curled his beckoning finger again.  

Back and forth. It was exactly like calling a cute puppy to come.  

His smug grin widened slightly, revealing a hint of teeth. If he had been closer, she might have heard his chuckle. He clearly knew how to push her buttons—one simple gesture reduced her to indignation.  

Eleanor had never been treated this way by anyone. Typically, she was shown polite deference; even when gestures were used, they were subtle, merely pointing with both hands.  

But Fertan was openly provocative. His attitude suggested he found her efforts to shake off her guards adorable.  

Had her anger become too obvious?  

That only fueled her frustration further.  

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor steadied herself, regaining her composure.  

“Fine, well… I’m generous, so I’ll let it slide.”

Fertan backed away towards the opposite side of the clearing, signaling her to come that way. Utterly ridiculous, she had no choice but to trudge after him.

The moon, hanging in the bright sky, its light so revealing, was particularly displeasing tonight.

He passed by a village fence, walked quite a distance across a weedy field, and stopped in the secluded shade of the forest. As Eleanor hurriedly followed him, he removed his hood as if to greet her.

“Welcome.”

Fertan clearly knew how handsome he was. And he knew how to use it.

He employed his devastatingly beautiful eyes and the facial contours highlighted by the moonlight at the most opportune moment. Closing the distance in a few steps, he met Eleanor’s gaze directly, revealing his striking features.

Did he also know how charming the wrinkles on his nose were when he smiled? He gave her a seductive smile at just the right moment, and she was so mesmerized that she almost tripped over herself.

It was a honey trap. He was trying to use his face to seduce her.

With that smooth, handsome face, what couldn’t he do?

In her dizzy state, Eleanor had to grab his neck to steady herself.

“I didn’t expect you to run and hug me. I’m quite touched.”

She would have felt much better if she could have punched his lying mouth, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything violent, so she just glared at him.

“Is it impossible for you to act dignified and mature? What on earth...”

“Kiss.”

He interrupted her mid-sentence, leaning closer as if demanding an immediate kiss.

“I’m dying to fuck you, but let’s kiss first. Isn’t that very dignified?”

“Fertan!”

“You know what you’re good at. Bite my lips. Then I’ll get a hard-on like a stallion in heat.”

She realized once again that her eyes became hot when she was too angry. She couldn’t yell at him, nor could she abandon him.

Fertan, acting as he pleased. This man had completely exceeded the limits of her control.

Words didn’t work, and her emotions surged whenever she saw him.

Why did she feel unjustly wronged when she was angry? Tears were about to well up in her reddened eyes. She was about to cry while glaring at him with all her might.

He was the worst—rude, improper, arrogant, with a terrible reputation, always teasing her... he had no redeeming qualities.

She really disliked this man.

Eleanor rose up on her toes. She desperately clung to his strong neck, embracing him.

She tilted her head back. The lonely full moon poured down its pale light as if mocking her, and the man before her pressed his lips to hers with a blank expression, as if he were experiencing an orgasm.

Fertan’s expression, so close that it was out of focus, was so seductive that it transformed her boiling anger into lust. Sparks flickered in his dark irises. He enveloped her in his heat, as if he were about to get a hard-on, and creased his decadent eyes as he sucked her in.

“See, I’m being polite. I’m holding back even though I almost came, and I’m being a good boy by making out first.”

Fertan shifted his head, stimulating her lips in the opposite direction. Although the contact was similar on both sides, he couldn’t suppress his desire to delve deeper, entangling his tongue with hers.

He sharply stimulated the veins under her tongue, scooping up the newly formed saliva as if digging a well. The tantalizing sensation made her ears tingle. Soon, the area under her lips became wet and then dripped down to her chin.

The simple peasant dress she wore under her cloak was woefully inadequate to defend against Fertan. While he was absorbed in kissing, the strings and buttons were easily undone.

Her bare breasts were exposed in the open air.

“Ha, not here...”

She was overwhelmed by shame and embarrassment, but he crushed her breasts in his large hands. He didn’t allow even a weak resistance, exposing both breasts for the forest animals and the moon to see.

“I’ll stop if you don’t want me to. But I wonder if you can really hold back with such a sensitive body.”

She shuddered at the feeling of his hands roughly digging into her flesh. The skin of her exposed breasts, in the cool night air, was covered in goosebumps like a plucked chicken.

The more Fertan tormented her, the stronger the stimulation became. He squeezed the soft flesh until it was sore, then greedily licked the tips. Eleanor developed tiny bumps all over her breasts. Her milk ducts tingled when he sucked with his strong mouth.

Every part he touched and kissed excited her. Her body, unable to resist, spread her legs on its own.

When Fertan lifted one of her thighs, she straddled him like a horse. Her panties were already soaked, and her flimsy skirt spread around her, unable to conceal her aroused state.

Her buttocks were squeezed tightly, as if being crushed. He held her lower body in place and pressed his thigh against her cunt.

“Fert, ugh...”

Sensing the dampness at her core, Fertan let out a seductive sigh.

“Good thing I’m not the only one leaking.”

His thighs, as sturdy as a horse’s legs, rubbed her wet panties back and forth.

The muscles in his front thigh rippled elastically. He moved his lower body lewdly, rubbing along her sensitive labia and the surrounding flesh.

As her straddled crotch was pulled closer to Fertan, she felt his throbbing member. The shaft, its angle clearly visible, poked at her open cunt. His pants were bursting with his intense presence.

His pants were soaked as if water had been poured on them, and so was her cunt.

When Fertan occasionally shook the thigh he had raised her upon, the pressure intensified. All of her erogenous zones, except for the inside of her cunt, were fully pressed against him. The weighted friction was as intense as penetrative sex. Her lower body was spread wide by his thick leg, and her clit was painfully rubbed against her panties.

It was thrilling, but as the act repeated, she became greedy. It was a lewd desire to be filled inside as well as out.

She couldn’t bring herself to ask him to insert his cock directly. Even if she had to bite her tongue and die, she couldn’t. Instead, she expressed it indirectly.

“Uhh, it’s a bit... rough...”

Fertan chuckled inwardly. She was startled, wondering if her intentions had been exposed.

“You must need a soft cock to fuck you, right?”

“......”

When she pursed her lips and remained silent, he quickly scooped her up onto his back.

“Ah!”

“Just stay still on my back. The forest is dark, you might fall.”

He moved his feet as smoothly as if he were walking on flat ground in broad daylight. He quickly left the forest at a half-running pace.

While being carried on his back, Eleanor adjusted her clothes under her cloak. As she hastily buttoned them, she imagined him tearing them open again and fondling her breasts.

She had started by hugging him again as soon as they met. It was mortifying to realize that her priority was a pointless sex game with Fertan, rather than important matters like the ring and treason. At this moment, her mind was dominated by the sensual feeling of his hand supporting her buttocks and his broad back.

As she was carried on his back like a country girl, her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst out of her ribcage. It was because she expected to be painfully fucked soon.

Her self-disgust and her fluttering heart towards Fertan unharmoniously intersected in her mind.

She never imagined that the Ablein royal family’s carriage, as spacious as a small room, would be used in this way.

The floor, covered with a spread-out cloak and clothes, was as neat as a room, and the chair cushions were as soft as a bed. It was a perfect space for indulging in passionate lovemaking.

Naked Eleanor was trying to gather her scattered wits. Even as Fertan fervently licked and sucked her cunt, and her uncontrollable moans pierced the carriage’s thick walls, she still clung to a thread of reason.

Eleanor still found it hard to accept the reality of her physical entanglement with Fertan. The sight of a man with the noble blood of the royal family kneeling before her, burying his face in her cunt, seemed unreal. She was simply perplexed as to how things had come to this.

She had clearly intended to keep her distance from Fertan, but her determination to keep their encounters brief was repeatedly broken. It must be the devil’s influence, or this wouldn’t be happening.

“Can’t even spread your legs properly, can you? You’re going to get punished, aren’t you?”

He teased her, one corner of his lip quirked up.

Fertan finally raised his head after thoroughly sucking her cunt, his face half-covered in her fluids. No matter how much she begged him to stop, he wouldn’t; he was a wicked man who wouldn’t stop until his desires were fully satisfied.

The man wiping his chin with the back of his hand still looked like a devil of lust. The flesh under his decadent eyes and his thick eyelashes trembled with his every subtle expression.

She hadn’t noticed this side of him when they were still distant acquaintances. They only occasionally crossed paths at large events, and even then, she mostly saw his nonchalant back from afar. It was only recently, as they became closer, that she truly appreciated his extraordinary beauty.

He raised his upper body and teasingly rubbed his long, erect cock against her inner thigh. As he attempted skin contact with just his hip movements, without using his hands, clear seminal fluid oozed from his opening and warmed her crotch.

Her reason was on the verge of escaping. They didn’t have much time today, and it seemed they would end up just having sex again.

Eleanor glanced at his erect cock and brought up a topic based on her somewhat rational thoughts.

“Fertan, what... what’s the ring for?”

He grasped his cock and pulled it up from the base. The tendons on the back of his hand and the shaft of his cock stood out prominently.

Noticing her surreptitious glances, Fertan inserted his lewd hand further down. He deliberately fondled his thick scrotum, spreading his fingers to show the bumpy skin between them.

He slid his fingers between his testicles, rubbing them as if copulating, then pulled his fingers up from his perineum to his cock, making his testicles bulge.

The sac, which would soon be filled with cum, visibly swelled.

“Eleanor, what if I stop using contraception?”

Eleanor, captivated by his lewd hand movements, was staring blankly. She was almost lured into crossing the line by his dancing hips.

But his absurd words brought her back to her senses.

What on earth did he mean? Was he suggesting they commit a crime?

Was he suggesting she marry the crown prince and then secretly have Fertan’s child?

Fertan and Leonard were cousins, so they had the same hair and eye color. Their skin tones were different, but Fertan also had fair skin compared to other men. Even his cock, which he was now lewdly shaking, had white, translucent skin, revealing its pale pink interior. If they were determined to deceive the father, it would be possible.

She briefly considered the worst act of unfilial piety a human could commit and rubbed her forehead as if wiping away something dirty.

“That’s impossible.”

Fertan didn’t stop talking nonsense. Moreover, his language was becoming increasingly vulgar.

Her instincts were drawn to his arousing words.

“I want to fill your cunt with my seed. How proud would I be to see this belly swell round with my child?”

Eleanor needed a moment to translate his vulgar language, so she realized Fertan’s preposterous intentions a beat later.

He must be saying it just to say it. Surely he wouldn’t actually try such a thing.

She realized that she had been distracted from the topic of the ring again while being swayed by Fertan’s lewd words. He kept drawing her in. She suspected that he might be avoiding talking about the ring.

“What do you want me to bring you the ring for?”

She ignored his words and brought up her own question.

With an enigmatic smile, Fertan pressed closer. The cock, which had been teasing her crotch, changed direction. He pressed the round head against her wet cunt. He wrapped her body in his, pressing down heavily, and lowered his crotch, which had been two spans apart.

His hard glans pushed the tip into her wet opening. His aroused member was hot.

She shivered below her navel as her vaginal entrance widened. Fertan ruthlessly pushed in his long cock. Without even a few thrusts, he rammed almost all of himself in, pressing his glans against her cervix.

“Ha... huh.”

Eleanor’s vision went white for a moment. The fullness of her passage overwhelmed all other thoughts and sensations.

The thick shaft, like a giant tree trunk, clung to her twitching inner wall, sharing their pulses.

Thump, thump, thump... She felt his heart pumping through his cock.

“Eleanor, you go crazy when only my cock fucks you, don’t you? Just like I go crazy for you.”

As if trying to imprint himself on her with his cock, Fertan penetrated her deeply and held still for a while.

When he stopped moving, she became even more sensitive than during his rapid thrusts. She could feel the curves of his member, its slight upward tilt, and the sharp glans in exquisite detail, as if she could touch them. It was because her inner wall and his skin were in perfect contact.

His hard cock slowly withdrew.

The mucous membrane inside her cunt clung stickily, pushed outwards following the movement of his cock.

A cool shiver ran through her like the receding tide, and when he thrust into her midway, her spine tingled. A shudder spread through her entire body like a collision with a strong wave.

“Ugh!”

The speed of his hip movements increased in an instant. Her body heaved on the carriage cushion as he pounded her wildly, making her soul feel like it was leaving her body. He wielded his heavy cock like a weapon, delivering merciless blows, and his hardening glans rammed into her cervix, threatening to break it.

Her high-pitched moans echoed beyond the carriage walls. He seemed to take her groans, which were caused by her inability to withstand the excessive impact, as encouragement, and he became even more excited.

He thrust so hard that the shape of her lower abdomen was distorted. Fertan placed his hand on her stomach and felt the bulging sensation with each thrust. When the shape of his glans became prominent just below her navel, he wore an extremely satisfied expression. The corners of his decadent lips curled upwards like hooks.

“You’re so obsessed with my body like this...”

She tilted her chin back, overwhelmed by the rushing pleasure. Fertan’s lips, which had been tracing up her long neck, faintly released a moan of seduction.

“Hoo, can you really receive another man’s seed in this belly?”

While his hips pounded fiercely, the tongue that whispered devilish words gently swirled around her earlobe.

At this point, she could guess that his words weren’t impulsive. Even though Eleanor had asked about the ring several times, he had only expressed his own desires, which was suspicious. It seemed like he had some ulterior motive.

Her body was constantly shuddering and her mind was in tatters, but perhaps because of the chaos, her intuition was sharper. Eleanor continued to talk about the ring with a tug-of-war feeling.

“The ring, huh... if you don’t tell me honestly, ugh... I won’t give it to you either.”

Eleanor’s legs were draped over Fertan’s shoulders. His eyes gleamed with interest, as if watching an exciting game.

He raised his upper body at an angle, exposing her cunt as she bent her body in half. His huge cock withdrew, leaving only the tip inside, then plunged in sharply like a wedge.

The shock of her insides being pierced.

A sharp pain and pleasure surged simultaneously.

The force of the rushing friction made her vaginal walls burn. He repeated the same action two, three, and countless more times. He thrust and turned, listening to her screams and moans.

“Will you take my seed, or Leonard’s seed?”

He was serious. She was now certain. There was definitely a purpose behind his talk of contraception and seeds.

So Eleanor also made her move.

“Ugh, ha... that ring, are you going to use it for... treason?”

She bluntly asked her strongest suspicion. Since it involved information that would cause a great deal of trouble if overheard, she kept her voice as low as possible.

While arching his back and thrusting powerfully, Fertan stared at her with a meaningful gaze. His narrowed eyes held no trace of playfulness, and his brick-like jaw was even serious.

His cock, about to ejaculate, moved violently inside her, creating a stark contrast between his head and his genitals.

The life-or-death issue of treason and the animalistic act of thrusting that took her breath away. Her nerves were more on edge than when she was simply absorbed in sex.

“I can’t stand the thought of another man’s cock entering this hole. You also want to be fucked only by me, don’t you?”

His sweat-slicked shoulders and his rough breaths, driven by excitement, were all stimulating.

She even wanted to hear his vulgar language more.

“If you want to receive only my fucking... hoo, and fill your belly with my seed... bring it.”

Bring it.

Those words struck her mind like lightning. Fertan definitely needed the ring.

She didn’t know why he had placed such an important item in Eleanor’s hands, but she felt like she had found the answer to her repeated probing of his intentions. And the purpose of the ring, which he had tried so hard to hide, seemed to match her strong suspicions.

The chilling tension in the back of her head was amplified by the impact of his rough thrusting. Fertan slammed his hips down hard, as if to devour her. The deeply embedded wedge was about to pierce her inner wall. Her insides were burning. The entire carriage creaked, and the seat cushions were stained messily. His thick cock, embedded to the root, pressed suffocatingly against her vaginal opening.

His testicles, tapping against her perineum, were hard. While constantly fucking, he had hardened his cock like a stone, and eventually, the muscles around his seminal vesicles contracted.

Like a final blow, his thick cock slammed in. A flash of lightning streaked white across her vision. She couldn’t count how many times she had climaxed. After riding the waves of pleasure, she finally reached the peak.

Fertan’s cum was poured into Eleanor’s belly.

As he had said in his profane words, her insides were completely filled with Fertan.

His warm fluid was squirted out, filling every crevice of her vaginal mucosa and reaching beyond her cervix. Even though Fertan was using contraception, she was a little scared by the sheer volume. If his cum contained his seed, her womb would definitely be showered with it.

Feeling the aftereffects of the blindingly white sex, which made the full moon night pale in comparison, Eleanor was able to catch her breath after a long while.

Even though she was lying with her head on the cushion, she felt like the world was spinning. She couldn’t make any rational judgments, but the bloated feeling in her fluid-filled belly reminded her.

—Bring it. If you want to fill it with my seed.

Our intercourse and the ring were related.

“Could it be?”

Her head turned away, but her heart knew. Even though she asked if it was possible, his answer was predictable. She had been vaguely anticipating it, but tried hard not to accept it, stubbornly denying that it should happen—but now it was a reality. The reason Fertan had her keep the ring and bring it back was, as she suspected...

“That’s right, what you said.”

It was to involve her in his plan of treason.

The answer, referred to as “that,” sounded quite skillful. He didn’t make the mistake of mentioning “treason” like Eleanor did, which would have been dangerous.

“But why?”

He suddenly gave her an important item when she had no interest in it, and now he was telling her to bring it back. As proof that she would be on his side.

“I’ll tell you the reason when the right opportunity comes. But please... for now, I really want Eleanor to come to me.”

It felt like a round ball that could bounce anywhere had been passed to her. Perhaps he had been waiting for the moment she would catch and return the ball since he first threw it.

If it were a proposal to conspire together or plan something special, there would be room for refusal, but at the very least, she had to turn a blind eye to his intentions. Eleanor could report Fertan to the Imperial Guard tomorrow. But he had taken the risk of revealing his plan, and even placed the evidence in her hands.

“For that day, you must choose me. Not that flimsy Leonard.”

If the late emperor hadn’t passed away early, the two of them would have been bound as the Crown Prince and Princess. Their tangled relationships, combined with accidental events, had led to this situation. And now it was Eleanor’s turn to decide.

He was still inside her, firmly planted. The thick, flowing cum soaked her buttocks.

He lifted Eleanor and seated her on his groin. The point of contact was obsessively aligned. A subtle atmosphere flowed between the two facing each other, and she watched the man kissing her with wary eyes. The fear of treason contributed to her vigilance, and she was inwardly calculating which decision would be advantageous.

Fertan, in particular, was opaque. She couldn’t tell what essence was hidden behind his ever-relaxed expression. Leonard was easier to read, but Fertan’s mask was thick.

She wasn’t sure if trusting him and joining hands would be the right thing to do.

The next day, Fertan opened the window wide and moved a chair to sit by it. From this vantage point, he could easily glance outside at the entrance of the mansion whenever he pleased.  

In his heart, he wanted to wait by the front door on the first floor, or perhaps even near the gate—or better yet, out on the street. But after Eleanor’s startled reaction the last time, he had no choice but to restrain himself.  

For someone who had almost become his spouse, she was always so serious when it came to him making advances.  

Because Eleanor clearly didn’t want to close the distance between them, despite their intimate encounters, they hadn’t developed the sweet atmosphere of lovers. If Fertan were to push too hard on his own, it would only make him look foolish. Reluctantly, he had no choice but to approach her cautiously.  

While reviewing documents intermittently, he glanced over the lush green trees toward the tightly shut iron gates. At that moment, one of his closest subordinates approached him—Herod, the general manager of the Bluewing Hotel and an information broker.  

Herod bowed respectfully, folding his sleeves forward. When Fertan nodded slightly without turning his head, Herod understood the unspoken tension and spoke in a low voice.  

“Do you think Lady Eleanor will truly join our side?”  

This was a crucial question. The reason Fertan waited so anxiously for her wasn’t simple.  

Eleanor played a key role in his plans, though she was unaware of it. He had already included her in his vision for the future.  

Her beauty, which had captivated nearly all the men in high society; her impeccable manners and intellect; her flawless lineage as the future emperor’s consort—all these external factors made Eleanor indispensable to Fertan.  

Beyond that, there was a deeper reason why she needed to be complicit with him before the coup. It was an absolute secret that could only be revealed once sufficient trust had been built between them.  

For now, carrying this unspoken truth within him, Fertan muttered with a sigh:  

“If I’m judged solely as Fertan, there’s almost no hope.”  

It was an unavoidable reality. If Fertan flaunted his exceptional abilities openly, word would reach the emperor, inviting scrutiny and interference that could disrupt his plans.  

Herod, understanding Fertan’s personality, assumed that even when alone with a lady, he would exercise restraint. With a hint of pity, he gazed at his lord’s profile.  

“You’ve deliberately shown her only your least appealing side…”  

But Fertan felt differently around Eleanor.  

The unexpected reactions she gave him—despite his carefully cultivated image as a frivolous noble—piqued his interest. Her sharp glares, accompanied by the fluttering of her eyelashes, sent jolts through him like lightning bolts. He couldn’t help but want to provoke her further, even if it deviated from his original purpose. Despite knowing better, he craved the sight of her cat-like, narrowed eyes.  

In the past, Fertan had been too preoccupied with his ambitions to feel anything resembling romantic excitement or have the luxury of such emotions.  

But as he interacted with Eleanor out of necessity, the reality exceeded his expectations.  

She was nothing like the image he’d gleaned from official records or the impression she projected in the grand halls of the palace.  

She was incredibly endearing—and undeniably deserving of love.  

And so, he began pursuing her more earnestly. Wanting to see her reactions, he drastically adjusted his plans to increase her significance.  

While pretending to frequent nightlife spots and acting carefree at aristocratic banquets, he exaggerated his behavior even further in front of Eleanor. His crude remarks elicited responses from her that thrilled him beyond measure.  

The more he teased her, the more he wanted to push further. This growing fascination intensified with every meeting.  

As a result, his public image became slightly more pitiful than intended—but he didn’t regret it. In fact, he found himself wanting to act like a clumsy boy just for her.  

His resolve softened dangerously. He worried that this emotional looseness might jeopardize the larger plan surrounding her.  

Objectively speaking, Herod was right. He needed to charm Eleanor. He should have been flirting and displaying his allure—but instead, he acted purely on instinct.  

Fertan contemplated the likelihood of her appearing outside the verdant window frame.  

“Including what happened in bed… maybe I’ve only won half her favor?”  

He berated himself for failing to flatter her properly. A bitter laugh escaped his lips.  

Herod, bowing his head slightly, looked unsure of how to comfort him. As someone well-versed in gathering intelligence, he had previously uncovered and relayed information suggesting that Eleanor viewed Fertan unfavorably.  

“You seem anxious waiting for her.”  

Fertan’s gaze, frequently darting outside, was clouded with melancholy.  

“Waiting is inevitable… and yet—”  

His trailing words hinted at vulnerability, leaving Herod with an impression of his lord unlike any he’d seen before. Fertan seemed unusually emotional, almost exposing his innermost thoughts.  

“Are you worried she won’t come?”  

Fertan’s wandering thoughts circled around Eleanor. Contrary to her reputation for being prim and proper, she had shown interest in him and accepted his challenges far more readily than expected.  

While she maintained formality with other men, why did she treat him differently? It puzzled him, but also filled him with a sense of pride.  

Originally, their relationship was meant to be purely for show—a union born out of political necessity.  

By securing Eleanor, renowned as the ideal bride, he would gain significant symbolic value. After reclaiming the throne, he planned to seat her beside him to bolster his restored imperial authority. She would undoubtedly aid in restoring the prestige of the emperor he aimed to become.  

In his script, Eleanor was destined to remain by his side for life, bearing daughters and sons to solidify his legacy.  

Their encounter in the lounge during the banquet had been coincidental, but even without that incident, he had intended to approach her eventually. For the greater cause, he aimed to win Eleanor as part of his strategy.

But now, he had changed his approach. He firmly resolved to bring her officially into his camp. It suited Fertan’s desires and would also be advantageous for achieving his grand plan.  

After summing up all calculations, Eleanor was undeniably useful in every way. Just as she was dazzling now, she was destined to become the most exquisite flower of the empire later on.  

Having become Fertan’s target, she was like prey caught in a snare. There was no escaping the wide net he had cast around her.  

“Even if she doesn’t come, it doesn’t matter.”  

Gazing at the swaying leaves, he reached a conclusion filled with quiet confidence.  

“Eventually, Eleanor will side with us—it’s inevitable.”  

Herod nodded easily, recognizing the pattern of his lord after years of observation. He trusted Fertan’s meticulous nature; once he set his sights on someone, they never slipped away.  

However, Herod’s thoughts turned to the less-than-smooth atmosphere lately.  

“The ring…?”  

When he cautiously asked, Fertan shrugged indifferently, showing no particular concern.  

“She’ll keep it safe.”  

Fertan’s operation was multifaceted, with contingencies in place.  

If Eleanor brought the ring, it would confirm their mutual political intentions, and there would be no hesitation in making her his partner. But even if she didn’t bring it, it wasn’t necessarily bad. No one could possibly guess that the late emperor’s seal was hidden in Lady Roland’s private safe. Even if it were accidentally discovered, there were countless excuses to fall back on. Knowing Eleanor’s intelligence, she’d likely think of at least one plausible explanation.  

Of course, he hoped she would willingly bring the signet ring as proof of her loyalty to him. The low probability of that happening was what made his heart ache.  

It wasn’t easy to make her truly his.  

“For Eleanor… even if this operation fails, we’ll just create another plan.”  

Fertan muttered self-deprecatingly. His initial plan—to charm her with his handsome face and secure her as his own—wasn’t going as smoothly as expected.  

Much of the blame lay with his inability to present himself in a way that women typically found appealing. He had been too emotional, too cruel, and indulged in teasing her far too often.  

His encounters with her had strayed from cold, calculated business into something more personal—a reflection of his unchecked emotions. Though he knew he shouldn’t have let it happen, their sharp exchanges delighted him, and the physical pleasure they shared was fantastically satisfying.  

What should he do if Eleanor didn’t appear outside his window today?  

Fertan’s plans operated like an intricate machine, with countless interlocking gears. Even if one part faltered, multiple backup strategies were ready. Plan B, Plan C—he would apply them in order of priority until she inevitably fell under his influence.  

“No matter what…”  

Eleanor absolutely had to remain by his side.  

Even though she didn’t show up despite him gazing out the window all day, Fertan reaffirmed her presence in his mind repeatedly.  

Lately, Crown Prince Leonard’s mood had been far from pleasant.  

The atmosphere in the crown prince’s palace was tense, like walking on thin ice. The palace staff tread carefully, fearing any misstep might incur his wrath.  

Even when he was in a good mood, Leonard was never lenient toward those beneath him. When visibly displeased, everyone scrambled to avoid becoming the target of his venting anger, feeling their lives were at stake.  

His usual victims were palace cleaners or external guards—people whose positions wouldn’t cause complications if punished.  

The guards and attendants who served Leonard closely shared his harsh temperament. He deliberately chose such individuals as his confidants, ensuring no one dared criticize or provoke him. Over time, Leonard’s habit of beating people to the brink of death had become a familiar, albeit chilling, pattern.  

On a day without external engagements, he lounged in bed with a newly acquired mistress. Though they had only met a few times, the wife of a minor baron from an unremarkable family pleased him greatly with her skills.  

Moreover, she flattered him well. Even transparent compliments sounded sweet to his ears.  

“Your Highness, please set aside your worries and think of me for a moment.”  

After vigorously riding him, she now clung to his side, emitting sultry nasal sounds.  

Her impressive waist movements had successfully brought him to climax, easing his previously sharp-edged mood considerably.  

“Hold me, Your Highness.”  

Rubbing her voluptuous thighs against him, she lifted his arm and draped it over her neck, positioning herself snugly in his embrace. Once settled, she launched into a long-winded praise of how ecstatic their lovemaking had made her feel.  

Leonard silently acknowledged that this newly recommended mistress was indeed top-tier.  

During sex, he usually lay still, observing whether the woman performed well or poorly—but this one passed with flying colors. Her desperate, sweat-drenched efforts to please him, panting and writhing beneath him, appealed to his cruel streak.  

“Your Highness, may I help you relax your weary body?”  

“You may.”  

She massaged his thin arms and limp legs. Between the sex and the additional services, he found the experience quite enjoyable, significantly improving his otherwise dismal state of mind.  

Recently, his foul mood stemmed largely from Eleanor. Since the ballet performance, he hadn’t been able to meet her. It was painfully obvious that she was avoiding him at every turn. Whenever he invited her for a simple tea, she excused herself with claims of poor health.

However, as he watched his mistress’s antics, a sinister thought crossed Leonard’s mind. Once married, he could make Eleanor do the same things this baroness was doing. No matter how elegantly she carried herself in public or how pure she seemed, it wouldn’t matter in the bedroom. The thought of crushing her pristine, angelic image and defiling her sent a thrill through him. How satisfying would it be to dominate her completely?  

A vivid scene of Eleanor resisting flashed in his mind.  

Perhaps she imagined marital relations to align with religious teachings—fully clothed except for the necessary exposure. Given her refined demeanor, it was likely she envisioned sex as a quick, silent act solely for procreation, learned only to produce heirs.  

The idea of introducing her to a far more carnal world excited him. She would resist, of course, but he knew many ways to torment a partner without leaving whip marks.  

No one could intrude on a married couple’s bedroom. Eventually, the haughty Eleanor would be reduced to writhing beneath him like a vulgar mistress, catering to his every demand.  

The mere thought of conquering Eleanor stirred something deep within him, though his recently spent member showed no signs of renewed vigor.  

Her continued refusal to fall under his control—to remain purely formal in their relationship—irritated him immensely. It was infuriating, unpleasant. The fleeting improvement in his mood from earlier vanished instantly.  

“I can’t leave her alone. I need to take preemptive measures to ensure she doesn’t crawl away.”  

The baroness, who had been diligently massaging him, mistook his words as directed at her and froze in alarm.  

“What? Have I done something wrong…?”  

“No, nothing at all.”  

Leonard dismissed her and headed to his study.  

In the hallway, palace staff were busy replacing winter curtains with summer ones.  

One male servant climbed a ladder to remove a thick curtain, so focused on his task that he failed to notice Leonard passing by. While others respectfully bowed their heads, this man brazenly continued working. Leonard immediately took offense.  

At that moment, the heavy curtain fell with a thud next to Leonard, sending up a cloud of dust.  

“What is this nonsense?”  

His voice cut through the corridor like glass scraping against stone.  

As Leonard glared at the servant, a faint layer of dust settled on his polished shoes.  

“Oh! My deepest apologies, Your Highness. I failed to look down and committed a grave mistake.”  

The servant scrambled down the ladder and prostrated himself before Leonard. Already pale with fear, he trembled as others nearby also kept their heads bowed, sensing the ominous atmosphere.  

Leonard stamped his foot lightly to shake off the dust clinging to his shoe. With an arrogant tilt of his chin, he looked down at the man, rolling his stiff neck side to side.  

“It’s possible not to see. Well, mistakes happen.”  

Though his tone returned to normal, no one dared relax. Sweat dripped down their spines as they remained frozen in place.  

Leonard had always harbored resentment over his inability to act entirely on impulse despite being next in line for the throne. Though the emperor supported him fully, his position wasn’t yet secure enough to indulge in blatant cruelty without consequence. His younger sister, Princess Lucena, remained unmarried and maintained a favorable reputation, forcing him to manage his own image carefully.  

Being labeled a tyrant too soon would be problematic. Absolute freedom to act as he pleased would only come after ascending the throne. Thus, he set boundaries: he’d eliminate someone only if their punishment wouldn’t cause irreparable damage to his reputation when rumors inevitably leaked outside the palace.  

This was one such moment—a rare opportunity where restraint wasn’t necessary.  

“Follow me.”  

Having long sought a target for his wrath, Leonard felt a surge of dark satisfaction now that this man had walked into his trap. A chilling smile spread across his pale face, causing the servant to panic, unable to even beg properly for forgiveness.  

“Y-Your Highness…”  

Without looking back, Leonard strode briskly toward the punishment room. Moments later, guards dragged the servant away. Desperate screams echoed through the grand, beautiful hallways of the crown prince’s palace.  

Beating someone was quite physically demanding. While it didn’t compare to cavalry training in spear techniques or magic, it was significantly more intense than Leonard’s usual activities.  

He worked up a sweat, his breathing growing labored, as he covered the man’s body with bloody welts from the whip. After a brief pause to catch his breath, it was time to move on to phase two. He surveyed the array of sharp tools prepared in the punishment room, contemplating which would provide the most amusement.  

Just then, footsteps approached from outside the chamber.  

“Your Highness, it’s Edwin.”  

It was Duke Edwin, Eleanor’s older brother.  

“Enter.”  

Leonard gave the nearly unconscious servant a final kick.  

Edwin’s expression remained unchanged despite witnessing the brutal scene. He regarded the collapsed man as one might a slab of meat and approached Leonard with practiced ease, bowing respectfully.  

“My apologies for disturbing you during such a busy time. I’ve come urgently to discuss something regarding Eleanor.”  

“Make it quick. I’d like to continue my entertainment while I’m still in the mood.”  

Leonard gestured toward the bloodied servant with a grin, making no effort to hide his enjoyment. To him, manipulating life and death was nothing more than a game—a source of amusement.  

“It’s about Eleanor. She attended a commoner’s festival yesterday.”  

“Hmm, and what of it? Is there a problem?”

“It seemed that she’s been going out recently without clear destinations. I advised her to refrain, but she insisted on getting some fresh air despite my counsel. It was surprising—she usually listens to me.”  

“Eleanor is different from other noblewomen. As the future crown princess, she has a public image to maintain. If she had prior engagements, it would have been difficult for her to cancel them.”  

“It seems she didn’t attend the festival with any of her usual companions either.”  

That detail struck Leonard as odd. To visit a festival alone? Everyone vied for Eleanor’s company, so deliberately avoiding all acquaintances felt unusual.  

When Leonard pressed Edwin for more details, the duke elaborated further:  

“I hesitated to question Eleanor directly, so I confirmed with her guard. He said she traveled to a village far from the capital and spent time alone there quietly. She apparently enjoyed watching wrestling matches and dances…”  

“Alone? Watching peasants wrestle?”  

“Though I understand she’s stressed with wedding preparations, these actions are unlike her past behavior. That’s why I thought it necessary to inform Your Highness.”  

Leonard struggled to determine whether this was suspicious or not. If it stemmed from the restless emotions brides-to-be often experienced, it could be normal. On the other hand, Eleanor had always supported harvest festivals positively, generously sponsoring them every year.  

Still, he couldn’t leave her unchecked. With their marriage approaching, any cracks in her loyalty were unacceptable.  

“Understood. For now, ensure Lord Roland closely monitors Eleanor’s every move within the estate.”  

“Yes, Your Highness.”  

Edwin bowed respectfully.  

As a loyal member of the emperor’s faction, Edwin shared a close rapport with Leonard. He knew about the punishment chamber yet never reported it to the emperor, strengthening his personal ties with the crown prince.  

However, their alliance remained somewhat ambiguous—a pragmatic partnership rather than deep trust. Edwin sought to secure his sister’s place in the imperial family, while Leonard desired Eleanor for himself. Additionally, having one of the empire’s top noble families as in-laws was undeniably advantageous.  

After Edwin departed, Leonard left the bloodied servant behind and exited the punishment room. Something about the situation nagged at him, demanding immediate attention.  

He summoned a trusted attendant and issued a discreet order:  

“Have someone tail Eleanor.”  

This wasn’t the first time he’d arranged surveillance on her. While minor updates came through Edwin, when 24/7 monitoring was required, he relied on professional informants.  

Last year, rumors swirled about Eleanor allegedly having an affair with a count’s son. The scandal turned out to be fabricated by the count’s son himself. Eleanor skillfully exposed the truth, quelling the gossip before it escalated. Leonard’s efforts to investigate via informants proved unnecessary then.  

What troubling actions was she taking now?  

Though Leonard assumed it was likely nothing serious, he instructed the attendant to contact the informant network again, unwilling to leave even a faint unease unresolved.  

A week after the moon-viewing festival, Eleanor finally ventured outside again.  

Following Edwin’s advice, she had stayed indoors, focusing solely on wedding preparations. Obedience to her elder brother—a fundamental virtue for a refined lady—meant she dutifully complied with his wishes during this time.  

Her outing today had a clear purpose: to visit Princess Lucena and share light conversation. Having neglected visits to the princess’s palace recently, Eleanor felt obligated to apologize. Naturally, Edwin raised no objections to her departure.  

Eleanor boarded the familiar carriage driven by her trusted coachman, accompanied by Liam, her ever-present guard.  

As they passed through the palace gates en route to Princess Lucena’s residence, Liam, who had been riding alongside on horseback, drew near the carriage window. Sensing his approach, Eleanor signaled the coachman to stop.  

“Um…”  

Liam’s hesitant tone carried an undercurrent of anxiety. Eleanor decided to reassure him preemptively.  

Taking the initiative, she spoke first, her words laced with meaning:  

“Liam, you may soon need to decide which side to stand on. Spies for both factions rarely survive. My advice: choose a safe master you can rely on for life.”  

Without turning her head, she gazed straight ahead regally.  

“To… to choose such an honor is beyond me. But if you’ll have me, Lady Eleanor, I wish to follow you.”  

“Thank you. If you show loyalty, I’ll do my utmost to protect you.”  

Truthfully, trusting Liam fully wasn’t easy—he hadn’t been particularly close to her before. Yet, given her current need to control her surroundings, extending her influence over him was necessary.  

After a moment of contemplation, Liam spoke, his tone suggesting he’d made up his mind:  

“Lord Edwin summoned me the day after the moon-viewing festival and grilled me with questions.”  

“I see… I expected as much.”  

“I told him we immediately headed outside the city. That you briefly forgot your worries enjoying the commoners’ festival… and that you stayed near the bonfire alone.”  

This meant Liam hadn’t mentioned her visit to the Bluewing Hotel or her prolonged absence to meet Fertan.  

If his account was truthful, his discretion deserved commendation—it was remarkably trustworthy behavior.

Eleanor handed over an entire pouch of coins she had prepared in advance to Liam. Even if his report was false, it was necessary to ensure he received ample compensation for future loyalty. If Edwin had also bribed him, Eleanor intended to outbid him and secure Liam’s allegiance.  

Liam quickly glanced around before reluctantly accepting the pouch, clearly uneasy about exposing it publicly.  

“Uh… you didn’t need to give me this.”  

“Not enough? Tell me the amount you desire.”  

“I unknowingly accepted one gold coin earlier, but that’s not who I am. If I must choose a master as you suggested, I wish to follow Lady Eleanor. Though, honestly, the title of imperial guard is tempting.”  

So, he valued honor and status over money. From her distant observations, this assessment fit Liam well. But if he truly sided with Eleanor, he could become a reliable ally.  

Seizing the moment, she tested him further:  

“What if the person demanding you sell my secrets is Prince Leonard himself?”  

Liam, who had been looking down at an angle, suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with alarm.  

Born into a military family, he neglected personal grooming—his hair perpetually oily, his body often unwashed, contrasting sharply with the meticulous care he gave his weapons, which gleamed like glass. Despite his rugged appearance, he hesitated, unsure how to respond.  

“Was that too difficult a question?”  

Liam pondered for a while longer.  

“Even imperial guards are bound to protect their masters’ secrets. We’re taught that divulging classified information is worse than death. But if His Highness Prince Leonard were to ask… I don’t know what I’d do.”  

This was the most honest answer she could have hoped for—far more sincere than an immediate pledge of loyalty to her.  

Deciding to give him time to reflect and make his choice, Eleanor offered Liam a trusting smile before returning to the carriage.  

As they resumed their journey, Liam suddenly recalled something.  

“Oh, come to think of it, a new maid approached me a few days ago, pretending to be friendly. She claimed to admire Lady Eleanor but asked far too many detailed questions.”  

“A new maid?”  

“I brushed it off without saying much, but it bothered me. With Lord Edwin already pressuring me, and now talk of Prince Leonard… Something feels off.”  

“Your instincts are correct. That’s why I urge you to judge carefully and guard your words.”  

Hiding her shock, Eleanor hurriedly boarded the carriage.  

Someone new was trying to dig into her affairs.  

Who could it be? Fertan? Leonard?  

If it were Edwin, he would have used more efficient methods than sending a new maid to approach Liam.  

Her past experiences with Leonard heavily influenced her suspicions. When she first entered society, he had practically surveilled her, trailing her obsessively even before marriage talks began. He acted as though she were already his chosen companion, crossing boundaries with overly familiar behavior while flaunting their closeness publicly.  

Though she wasn’t the only noblewoman in the capital, Leonard seemed to have placed Eleanor at the top of his list.  

Now, with his persistence bearing fruit, there was little she could do to change the situation. However, to secure her position moving forward, she needed loyal allies—whether Liam or anyone else.  

When the carriage arrived at Princess Lucena’s palace, Eleanor was warmly welcomed and escorted inside.  

But instead of being led to the princess’s quarters, a court attendant guided her through unfamiliar paths. They turned down narrow alleys, climbed secluded staircases, and passed dimly lit hallways where sunlight barely reached. With Liam unable to follow due to palace protocol, Eleanor uneasily trailed the attendant, fearing some unforeseen mishap.  

A strange door opened to reveal an empty yet impeccably maintained room.  

The moment she stepped inside, the door closed behind her.  

Startled, she flinched.  

What was going on? As she looked around the unfamiliar space, a tall figure emerged from behind a curtain.  

“It’s damn hard to see your face these days.”  

It was Fertan.  

“How did you…?”  

Fertan waiting for her in Princess Lucena’s palace meant this meeting likely had the princess’s tacit approval.  

Eleanor had never imagined such a close connection between Lucena and Fertan. Though cousins, they had always appeared distant in public. Just how far did Fertan’s influence extend?  

To put it dramatically, it seemed there was nowhere his reach hadn’t touched. Perhaps it was time to reassess the likelihood of success for his grand plan.  

“I almost forgot something important I needed to tell you. It had to be said in person, but since you weren’t leaving the house, I was stuck.”  

With long strides, he approached her, spreading his arms wide.  

“Aren’t you going to run into my embrace today? I was secretly hoping for it.”  

His smug grin irritated her. Bringing up their last encounter felt childish, like teasing from an immature boy.  

She wished she could smack that smirk right off his face.  

“I didn’t run here,” she muttered, frowning awkwardly at her own weak excuse. Immediately, she regretted it. Once again, she felt herself losing ground against Fertan.

He whistled sharply, his methods of provoking her as varied as ever.  

Fertan’s playful antics left a far deeper impression than any heated argument could have. His plump lips puckered into a heart shape, producing a whistle from the small circle he formed with his mouth.  

With an air of feigned resignation, he shrugged his broad shoulders before pulling her elbow to drape her arm around his nape.  

“Hug me, Eleanor.”  

The scent of him—intoxicating and masculine—seeped into her senses.  

“Tell me what you need to say first,” she managed, struggling to maintain her composure and push away his intrusive touch. Yet, despite her efforts, her arm remained looped around his neck, and though she could easily lower it, she didn’t.  

“I want to have sex.”  

“Fertan…”  

“I need to put my tongue inside your wet pussy. I’ve been craving that dirty taste so much I haven’t been able to eat or sleep.”  

Though his words were crude, his physique remained as imposing as ever. Still, she found herself unable to retort easily.  

Truthfully, she had spent countless nights rubbing her empty sex between her thighs, yearning for him. Was this insatiable lust truly how desire worked? The realization that her body hungered so intensely for him unsettled her.  

It wasn’t just any man’s body she craved—it was Fertan’s. His handsome face, his chiseled muscles, and his rock-hard, massive member.  

“This is Princess Lucena’s palace,” she protested weakly, wishing he would simply stop talking. But Fertan showed no intention of silencing himself.  

“You could call this Lucena’s safehouse. Even if we fucked ourselves to death here, not a whisper would escape these walls.”  

“What exactly is your relationship with her? How far does your influence reach?”  

Before she could press further, he hastily began undressing her, brushing his lips against hers.  

“The ring?”  

As usual, Fertan ignored her questions entirely.  

The revelation of Lucena and Fertan’s hidden closeness was shocking. She needed to uncover how long they’d been building this rapport and what secrets lay behind their bond. This wasn’t mere curiosity—it was a matter of shifting power dynamics within the larger picture surrounding Fertan.  

Was it personal affection? Or some kind of transaction? Had Princess Lucena, who had always maintained a gentle image, concealed another side beneath her serene facade?  

For now, Eleanor snapped back at him curtly, irritation fueling her tone.  

“I’m not giving it to you. It’s not something I can hand over without proper explanation.”  

Fertan nodded nonchalantly.  

“So, you’re refusing to join my side for now.”  

Given the importance of the item, his readiness to abandon the topic seemed suspicious.  

Could he be planning to sneak into her dressing room and crack open her safe? That seemed impossible in practice.  

More likely, Fertan had already anticipated her refusal to hand over the ring. His calm demeanor suggested another plan was in motion. Eleanor’s mind raced. So, she didn’t need to give him the ring immediately—no need to feel guilt or remorse. There was still room to consider aligning with him later.  

Testing her theory, she probed gently, as if reluctant to let go entirely.  

“Do we really need to draw such clear lines between us?”  

Fertan was an enigma, his slippery smile and perpetually smug eyes making him seem like someone driven solely by carnal desires.  

“If you won’t join my faction, then we’ll just focus on this instead.”  

After all his earlier persuasion and seduction, he now seemed ready to discard conspiracies altogether in favor of pure physical indulgence.  

“No, wait—”  

“It doesn’t matter. Honestly, this is better anyway.”  

While Eleanor hesitated and weighed her options, Fertan busied himself removing their clothes. His skill at undressing her—her dress, her undergarments—seemed to improve daily.  

Wrapping his strong arms around her naked body, he whispered teasingly:  

“Allow me to serve you, Eleanor, as your courtesan.”  

“How are you even a courtesan? Besides, our situation is dangerous.”  

“Isn’t danger thrilling? Forbidden fruit, you know. That’s why every time I see you, my cock gets hard without permission.”  

Leaning back slightly, Fertan exposed his thick, erect cock. The glans glistened enticingly, almost begging to be touched. The more she faced his raw masculinity, the more tangled her thoughts became.  

Even when he lived carelessly as a frivolous nobleman, Fertan had been someone she couldn’t imagine keeping as a lover. Now, he was deeply entrenched in multifaceted schemes. If their secret meetings were discovered, his entire plot might unravel—or worse, she could be implicated in treason alongside him.  

How convenient it would be if there were a replica of Fertan—a version who wasn’t a royal, harbored no dangerous plans, yet retained his body and face.  

This Fertan was too perilous.  

“Fertan, maybe we should just—”

It occurred to her that it might be better to pretend she hadn’t heard anything. To remain the playboy she had always known.

But it was something that shouldn’t be ignored. He had already revealed his secrets, extending a hand of cooperation to Eleanor, and she was trying to figure out how to avoid getting caught.

Even if Eleanor acted like an idiot and only wanted a physical relationship, Fertan was not suitable as a partner. He was absolutely the wrong man.

“Why don’t we just shut up and have sex? Good, that’s a wise idea.”

Eleanor didn’t reply. The growing heat added persuasiveness to his words.

She felt a desire to forget everything and surrender to him.

His large, heavy cock slid slickly against her iliac bone. The sight of the long shaft swaying was vividly displayed below her waist.

The feeling of touch combined with the sight was different. The beautifully colored pink genitals were eye-catching. The long, artistically curved shaft swayed as if wanting to enter somewhere. When he poked the tip into her navel, the veins covering his cock rippled.

Too embarrassed to look, she turned away.

Fertan took advantage of the opportunity and grabbed her breasts from behind.

His arms, reaching under her armpits, pressed down on both breasts at once. The left breast bulged as he supported it from below, while the right breast was cupped and kneaded in his palm.

“Ah...”

A gasp of surprise escaped her, and her waist arched.

At the same time, with deft movements, he moved between Eleanor’s legs. His large hand pressed down on her skin, moving from her lower abdomen downwards. He spread her labia majora with his long fingers and slipped his middle finger between them. His fingers moved down past her labia minora, touching her sensitive spots.

The lewd finger play stimulated her cunt. His fingertips teased the moist valley, drawing circles as if playing a mischievous game.

With each rotation, sounds of “tsut, tsut” came from below. She couldn’t hide the flowing fluids. The wetter it felt, the more he caressed her.

“That’s why I like you. You have such an honest pussy.”

The way he kissed her ear, opening his mouth wide, was extremely lewd. His fingers constantly played between the folds of her labia. He enjoyed touching her delicate skin, physically connecting with her.

His vulgar words stimulated Eleanor’s hearing, fueling her excitement. She had heard them so often that her ears and body were now accustomed to them.

So, this time, she tried to retaliate.

She placed her lips on Fertan’s glistening red lips. With sharp eyes, she chirped like a villainess.

“Not as much as your lower half. Look how wet you are... I wonder if you’ve already had a little accident.”

His cock pulsed as if it would burst. The thick shaft of flesh pressed between her buttocks writhed like a living animal. He pulled the hand that was cupping her cunt towards his lower body. She could vividly feel the throbbing of his thick cock and realized that their tightly pressed genitals were quickly heating up.

He let out a long sigh and a decadent laugh.

“Ha, our Eleanor is so sly. I almost came as soon as you mentioned an accident.”

She didn’t know if her impulsive words were successful or if they exceeded expectations. She wondered if she had provoked him unnecessarily.

Fertan pulled a chair in front of the mirror, still holding her in one arm. Then he placed one of Eleanor’s legs on the chair.

Her body was tilted diagonally, revealing her backside.

Her reflection in the mirror was primal.

It was almost the first time she had seen herself naked in a mirror, and Fertan intentionally adjusted the angle to clearly show their genitals. Her white, round buttocks looked like a full moon, and the cunt visible beside them was a blushing color, like a hidden fruit.

Fertan’s hand, spread wide from her buttocks to her side, covered her like a net. His touch in the mirror exuded a persistent possessiveness. It indirectly revealed a side of him that his words and actions hadn’t fully shown.

The possessive desire for her was evident in the way his hand explored the inside of her thighs and the way he positioned his cock at her entrance.

He didn’t seem like the man who had nonchalantly said they could just sleep together if she didn’t want to be on his side. At least, the Fertan in the mirror was definitely obsessed with her.

It seemed best to pretend she didn’t notice for now. Confused about how to process the dissonance between the mirror and reality, Eleanor merely feigned excitement with her half-closed eyes.

His cock, dripping pre-cum, pushed into her entrance. Her cunt was also glistening. The fluids on the leg she was using to support herself were particularly noticeable.

She felt the pressure of him trying to break through her narrow opening. The pressure alone made her intensely excited, and a flush of heat rose beneath her eyes.

At the same time, his lips pressed against her back. Warm breath and soft lips touched her between her shoulder blades, then moved down her spine, leaving a trail of kisses like a brand.

He was momentarily focused on inserting his cock and secretly kissing her. His profile in the mirror looked surprisingly sincere for a playboy.

Fertan’s closed eyes were mystical and intensely sensual.

“I missed Eleanor so much. I really... was dying to hold you.”

She also focused on accepting his sensations. Kisses on her back and the act of penetration below. The uncomfortable sensation of her narrow entrance suddenly widening was followed by the intrusion of a thick, animalistic shaft. Her passage widened. The tightly closed gap of her cunt gripped the head of his cock.

“Ha...”

With only half of his cock inserted, the rest of his shaft moved in and out slightly. The part that had entered and exited her was soaked, as if it had been dipped in water.

As if showing off his prize, his cock was fully withdrawn.

A stream of fluid, like urine, flowed thickly from the tip of his glans.

The color was clear and the viscosity was high, rather than urine. More than half of the fluid was probably her own.

“Are you watching?”

With just his fingertips, he slightly adjusted the direction of his cock. Without his touch, his cock would point too high, making insertion difficult.

With one long finger, he slightly lowered the base of his shaft, aligning the head with her entrance, preparing for the thrust.

The feeling of his large mass pressing against her, the scene of their animalistic mating.

With the head of his cock pressed against her entrance, his thick shaft throbbed. The tip of his glans, shaped like a flattened ball, was half-caught in her reddish entrance.

“It’s too... ah, lewd.”

Fertan grabbed her buttocks, exposing her cunt more clearly. Confirming Eleanor’s sidelong glance, he quickly straightened his back and thrust his cock in.

“Hot, uh...”

The flesh around her cunt was drawn into her hole along with his thick shaft. She had to witness with her own eyes the scene of male and female genitals merging. The feeling of her tender skin being stretched was vivid. The simultaneous sensation of sight and touch amplified the psychological impact.

It was surprising that something so thick could enter her body.

Her body instinctively leaned forward as if trying to escape. When she tried to lower her leg from the chair, he made a stern “tsk” sound.

“Where are you going?”

He asked teasingly, knowing the answer.

“In bed... uh, let’s do it somewhere else...”

Fertan ignored her and hastened his hip movements. His cock, glistening with fluids, moved in and out of her cunt with increasing speed. He thrust into her, crashing like waves. The act of pulling out long and thrusting in deep was violent. His huge cock writhed inside her.

Her buttocks were tightly gripped in his hands. He squeezed them as if bursting a large boiled egg. When his hand released the pressure, five finger marks remained on her pale curves.

The small hole receiving his huge cock struggled to twitch, and the finger marks beside it were clear.

“It’s a shame to keep such a spectacle to myself. You eat my cock so deliciously.”

Everything was red, white, and glistening. His male member, like a vicious weapon, savagely pounded her hole as if abusing her.

With each thrust, her buttock flesh slapped. Her flesh fluttered like it was being slapped. The contact wasn’t just what she saw in the mirror. She felt him thrusting deeper inside her, filling her tightly.

Fertan didn’t moderate his intensity. His deep thrusts were excessive, creating a stimulating scene. As she became properly hooked by the bait of arousal, unable to take her eyes off the mirror and blushing, he became even more excited by his vigorous hip movements.

The fine muscles on his ribs formed delicate curves, standing out. Below his broad chest, his waist was deeply indented, and his clearly protruding iliac bones created a beautiful line, like a fallen god lost in lust.

He hadn’t even thrust a few times, but already a tingling electric sensation swept through her body like a wave.

Thwack, his inserted cock lewdly rubbed against her inner walls. A shuddering thrill was followed by another wave of shivers.

“Hnn, uh. Too deep... ha.”

She couldn’t watch the mirror anymore and closed her eyes. The overwhelming sensations of climax convulsed her lower eyelids. Too overwhelmed to handle Fertan, she lost the ability to observe what was happening below her.

Her uncontrolled moans resembled animal panting. Her closed eyelids trembled, and her womb, holding Fertan’s cock, contracted to its limit, as if squeezing his shaft. His hardening cock, just before ejaculation, and her inner walls, tormented by an endless orgasm, clung to each other, greedily.

Eleanor closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in pleasure, but he watched her intently, never missing a moment. He observed her side profile and meticulously watched her from different angles through the mirror.

As she arched her back in a shiver, she then curled her lower abdomen, where his cock was buried. She curled into a ball, panting.

Fertan thrust his cock in time with her shudders. He impaled her with his long cock at the moment of her thrill. He was mating when her inner walls relaxed and driving his cock into her when they contracted.

“Ugh, huuuh...”

A throbbing pain pulsed at the back of her head. She felt dizzy, on the verge of collapsing.

Her posture had long since crumbled into disarray, but Fertan held her steady in his arms. Even as her feet, which had been resting on the chair or floor, faltered and finally lost their balance, the relentless act of insertion continued unabated.

The lodged cock shifted its angle, scooping upwards in a sweeping arc from her lower depths, like a shovel digging into earth. The man’s waist moved with the supple power of a hunting beast. His arms embraced her as if locking a gate, while his lower body thrust and lifted his cock with a chaotic rhythm. The crisp, resounding impacts created an atmosphere thick with obscenity.

Just before reaching his peak, he intensified his assault. The taut, swollen glans were like a venomous snake, its fangs bared. With its spread wings, it scraped the woman’s scalding interior, and its rounded tip hammered against the end of her cavern with painful force.

She opened her eyes, but her vision was blurred. Her pupils were dilated and unfocused from the overwhelming pleasure. The reflection in the mirror showed a pair of animals mating with desperate ferocity, as if this were their last moment.

The thick shaft lodged between the woman’s splayed legs rotated in a wide circle, then withdrew and plunged back in, burying itself to the root.

“Hah, ack, Fert... huuuh!”

A jolt ran through her spine. She had lost count of how many times she had shuddered.

“Kuh, this is driving me crazy. My cock is throbbing on its own.”

She could vividly feel his ejaculation spurting from his urethra. Her belly swelled and became distended so quickly that she almost wanted to measure the sheer volume of his release.

As Fertan continued to ejaculate in throbbing pulses, he parted her pubic hair and exposed the entrance to her narrow valley. Her clit was erect and pointed. The small sensory node thrashed as if in ecstasy every time she clenched her lower abdomen in pleasure.

“Hah... you’re so lewd, Eleanor.”

He positioned her legs in front of the mirror, displaying her erect clit. It was as if he were presenting proof of how shamelessly her body craved his cock.

“S-stop it.”

“Why? Getting shy all of a sudden?”

“Fertan, you’re awful.”

“When have I ever been nice...?”

He was right. When had he ever been gentlemanly or courteous?

Fertan briefly withdrew his engorged member to shift positions. Instead, he gently placed his finger on her still-taut clit, offering a warm touch.

They lay down on the bed, their bodies intertwined, and covered themselves with a blanket like affectionate lovers.

Eleanor never slept during the day, except when she was with Fertan. But perhaps due to the intense physical exertion, her eyes closed involuntarily.

Even though she told him not to touch her, Fertan kept feeling her stomach. He poked and prodded around her belly button, assessing the thinness of her abdomen.  

Such behavior was incredibly rude for a lady, but Fertan, as brazen as ever, didn’t remove his hand from her flat stomach, muttering complaints instead.  

“You were already all bones, but you’ve gotten even thinner. What’s going on?”  

Eleanor slapped the back of his hand lightly.  

It didn’t faze him in the slightest—in fact, he chuckled, looking at her like a master amused by his pet cat’s antics.  

“The wedding is coming up soon. I have to look good in my bridal gown, at least.”  

Eleanor wasn’t marrying out of love, and though she didn’t mean to confide in Fertan, she secretly hoped he’d understand her plight. With a sarcastic tone, she hinted that at the very least, her bridal gown should be beautiful.  

“Who are you trying to impress by losing weight and wearing that dress?”  

Fertan retorted gruffly before pressing his lips against her forehead for an extended moment.  

He then pulled the cord by the bedside to summon someone. The attendant who had guided Eleanor here cautiously signaled from outside the door. When Fertan requested snacks and indicated they would stay until evening, the attendant replied that he would inform Princess Lucena directly.  

The exchange felt secretive. Eleanor sensed that only Princess Lucena and this attendant knew what transpired in this room.  

After briefly leaving the bed, Fertan quickly returned and enveloped her in his arms like a blanket. But Eleanor’s thoughts drifted toward Princess Lucena, the central figure of this palace.  

“Fertan, when exactly did you and Princess Lucena meet privately?”  

More precisely, she wondered how Lucena had been persuaded to assist in arranging such meetings.  

“We’re cousins, after all. Who would say anything if I visited this palace? Though His Majesty might raise an eyebrow.”  

“Is this something you can’t tell me?”  

“You haven’t agreed to become mine, yet you keep asking for unnecessary details.”  

Though his words were sharp, his physical gestures softened. Fertan cradled her head with his strong arms, gently resting it on his bicep as if coaxing her into comfort.  

Eleanor tilted her head to study his sharp jawline with admiration, her gaze tracing every detail meticulously.  

Then, she touched the line from his brow to the bridge of his nose with her fingertips, feeling the contours of his handsome face.  

Fertan’s deep gaze, fixed intently on her, was unfathomable.  

“Is this some new form of torture? Trying to seduce me until I confess?”  

Though unintentional, Eleanor’s small act of affection finally loosened his tongue.  

“Lucena and I have had ties for a long time. We occasionally shared tea in secret places unknown to Their Majesties.”  

“Ah…”  

“But recently, Lucena’s marriage has been arranged. It hasn’t been announced yet, but it seems they plan to make the announcement after Leonard’s wedding.”  

Eleanor nodded, agreeing that this timing seemed appropriate for a princess’s marriage announcement.  

“Who is the groom?”  

“That’s the problem. It’s Emperor Bartonas of the neighboring Pelos Empire.”  

“What?! That can’t be!”  

She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand in shock.  

Emperor Bartonas was well over sixty—an elderly man close in age to Lucena’s late grandfather. To send a young, twenty-one-year-old princess to such an old man was nothing short of selling her off, sacrificing one person for the empire’s interests.  

While imperial family members often married based on political alliances, this arrangement was excessive.  

“Do you understand now? This is why Lucena decided to side with me.”  

Eleanor frowned, unable to continue speaking. She didn’t know when the news had reached the princess’s palace, but imagining Lucena suffering alone without anyone to confide in made her heart ache.  

“There are other potential matches—why him?”  

“His Majesty wants to justify the age of his fourth empress.”  

Emperor Maximilian had divorced his previous empresses using excuses like religious differences or incompatible values. Lucena’s biological mother had returned to her family long ago, and since then, the emperor had remarried several times, each time choosing younger, more beautiful women as empresses.  

The current empress was not much older than Lucena herself—a scandalous situation widely criticized.  

While there were other candidates for Lucena’s hand, deliberately choosing an elderly emperor suggested ulterior motives. Perhaps, given the criticism Maximilian faced, aligning with a similarly aged ruler in a neighboring nation would normalize such practices. Additionally, this marriage would secure trade advantages and bring astronomical dowries.  

By sacrificing Lucena, the emperor ensured everything else fell into place.  

“But Fertan, do you have a way to help Lucena?”  

“Lucena doesn’t ask for much. She said she’d be content living a simple life in the southern royal estates or marrying a count’s son quietly.”  

“Yes, Princess Lucena is gentle and would live peacefully if not for this forced marriage.”  

“But enduring an old emperor’s sexual demands? She probably couldn’t handle that.”  

Eleanor clenched her fist on Fertan’s chest. He was right. It was easy to imagine the gentle princess enduring humiliation and abuse at the hands of an old man in a foreign land.  

Fertan murmured quietly:  

“For Lucena to survive, I must survive too.”

Surviving meant that he intended to overthrow the current emperor and take the throne. Only then could he offer Lucena a better life than this marriage.  

As Eleanor processed her thoughts, she found herself sympathizing somewhat with their shared purpose.  

“But for Princess Lucena, opposing her own father… will she be alright with that?”  

“It’s an unavoidable choice. Perhaps it’s her way of rejecting a father who would sell her off.”  

Eleanor rested her confused mind against his chest, curling up slightly in his embrace.  

Her everyday life felt like a calm surface, but beneath it surged violent undercurrents. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something catastrophic loomed if she remained passive.  

Her encounters with Fertan were no longer just about indulging in physical pleasure. While his scent, warmth, and firm body still captivated her, she now wrestled more frequently with the question of which side she should choose in this brewing conflict.  

One wrong move could entangle her in treason, leading to execution by guillotine—or worse, exile to a convent for the rest of her life as a powerless former crown princess if Fertan succeeded in seizing the throne.  

Moreover, she no longer viewed the late emperor’s faction as a crude, one-sided power. That had been a complete misconception.  

Though her body was deeply intertwined with his, her mind raced with cold calculations about which side would benefit her most.  

As she absentmindedly traced lines on his broad chest with her fingertip, Fertan chuckled softly, exhaling a light breath.  

“Eleanor seems to have a lot on her mind. Are you starting to lean toward me?”  

“That’s quite the loaded question. But honestly… I’ve leaned quite a bit toward this part of you.”  

With that, she pressed her lower body closer to him. If she’d already come this far, she might as well acknowledge the truth. The tip of his manhood gently nudged against her pubic mound.  

Though her words danced around her hesitation to fully open up, Fertan seemed pleased with her response.  

He pulled her limp legs up to wrap around his waist. As they loosely ground against each other—her cunt brushing against the base of his cock—his low, husky voice near her ear lulled her into a drowsy state, like drifting into a lazy afternoon nap.  

“Not bad. Half of you leaning in is already halfway there.”  

Perhaps he interpreted her acceptance as a sign of high satisfaction.  

But just as they settled into the languid afterglow, he unexpectedly broached a serious topic in his usual slick tone.  

“Come to think of it, it’s time we made a deal with terms, don’t you think?”  

“…?”  

“I’m not saying I’ll have you empty-handed. Naturally, I’ll offer conditions if I’m bringing you over to my side.”  

Eleanor struggled internally with how to handle him. Their relationship wasn’t just physical anymore; it was evolving into something akin to a political partnership. Yet drawing clear boundaries wasn’t simple. The more she uncovered about his hidden depths, the harder it became to pin him down. Their conversations were half banter, half riddles. Understanding him felt like solving an intricate puzzle.  

Fertan defied easy categorization—he was neither wholly likable nor entirely detestable. For now, she focused on clarifying what kind of deal he had in mind.  

“What kind of… conditions are we talking about?”  

“If you wish, I’ll help delay your marriage to Prince Leonard.”  

Eleanor’s eyes widened. How had he noticed her discomfort with the rushed wedding plans?  

“How do you plan to delay it?”  

He winked slyly, evading a direct answer.  

“I’m not so pathetic as to let Leonard take you from me.”  

“So… what’s your method?”  

“First, agree to become mine. Prove your decision by bringing me the ring.”  

His conditions were straightforward enough to understand. He wanted tangible proof of her allegiance. It was as clear and logical as a business proposal.  

“I’ll devise a plan to postpone the wedding until autumn. By then, my preparations will be complete. You know what I mean by ‘preparations,’ right?”  

Taken out of context, his words could easily be misinterpreted as him wanting to replace Leonard as her husband. But Eleanor understood what “preparations” implied, blinking silently in acknowledgment.  

He kissed her lips tenderly, as though a lover whispering a marriage proposal during an intimate moment.  

“Leonard will eventually fail to claim his bride. And once I achieve my goal, I’ll give you the final say in your fate.”  

“The final say?”  

“Something similar to Lucena’s options. You’ll decide where to live, whom to be with—the works.”  

This was a groundbreaking offer. It was tempting enough to accept on the spot.  

Lately, Eleanor had been overwhelmed with anxiety, dreading the approaching wedding day. Simply delaying it would buy her precious time—but being given the ultimate authority to determine her future?  

The idea of painting her own destiny thrilled her.  

“I’ll think it over carefully and get back to you.”  

Still, doubts lingered. Hadn’t Fertan once intended to take her as his partner?  

Perhaps their childhood connection had reached its natural end. Though a pang of disappointment threatened to rise, she suppressed it firmly. That was life—childhood memories often faded with time.  

Though 90% of her leaned toward accepting his proposal, she wisely decided to delay her decision, choosing caution over haste.  

In the meantime, Fertan shared a few additional pieces of information with her.

The two of them, nestled together on the bed like lovers exchanging sweet nothings, conversed in hushed tones about matters that were anything but tender—topics laced with danger, where life and death hung precariously in the balance.