Chapter 2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 2
Their strides were so long and purposeful that the guiding waiter had to jog to keep up, their movements utterly uninhibited. They paid no mind to Katrin, who ran after them clutching her skirts, nor to Anna. By the time they reached the corridor, the waiter was superfluous; the Grand Duke’s secretary was already standing by the door, wringing his hands.
The Marquis’s relentless pace finally halted a few steps from the door. The four men following him stopped as if on a single command.
At the sight of the Marquis, the Grand Duke’s secretary went deathly pale, looking as if he might faint on the spot. But he wasn’t the only one. As the clamor of footsteps ceased, the resulting silence was so thick it felt tangible. And through that silence, a deeply unsettling sound began to seep out.
“Ah… ugh…!”
“You like it? Is that why you’re so wet?”
“Haah, yes, yes, Your Highness…”
“More… more… suck it more.”
The sounds painted a vivid, lurid picture of the scene beyond the door.
The Marquis let out a dry, incredulous laugh. After a long moment of low chuckles, he wiped a hand over his face and spoke softly to the secretary.
“Announce me and open the door.”
“Y-Your Excellency…”
“Open the door.”
His tone shifted abruptly, becoming ferocious. Grasping at straws, the secretary glanced toward Katrin, who stood at a distance.
Katrin quickly shoved Anna forward.
An immediate threat is always more frightening than a distant authority. This was Pelfe, and the Grand Duke of Pelfe’s secretary was a more pressing danger than the young Marquis of Luxen.
Just as Anna stumbled between the four men accompanying the Marquis, he turned around. He then addressed the owner of the Amang Rose estate, the old madam.
“Do you have the key?”
When not only Katrin but also Anna, who was standing right beside him, could only mouth silent words as if their throats had seized, he smiled.
Perhaps his unruly black hair was the perfect frame for such a smile. The eyes set deep within their sockets were a startling blue, and a small dimple appeared beneath his beautifully curved lips.
That smile transformed the rugged, mature man, making him seem almost boyish and momentarily erasing the danger that had emanated from him.
Having caught them off guard, he gave a slow nod.
“Right.”
Then he turned back to the door.
Anna, and everyone else gathered there, held their breath, feeling as precarious as if they were standing on a knife’s edge.
“Aah, hah, Your Highness, Your Highneeeess…!”
The problem was that the very people who ought to have sensed this tension were completely lost in their revelry.
Oscar walked leisurely toward the door, from which the lewd sounds continued to leak. He stared at it for a moment, making a final calculation of the consequences his actions would bring.
The calculation did not take long.
Oscar shoved a hand into his pocket. With a glance at the men behind him, they moved toward the firmly shut door as if awaiting his signal and—
CRASH!
—tore it from its hinges with shocking ease.
With every shake of a plump pair of buttocks, the nasal moans grew more explicit. As the man clawed at her breasts, the woman beneath him ground herself against him, her body clenching his member tightly with every movement.
“Hah… more… more… move more.”
At the man’s command, the woman’s hips moved even more frantically.
“Good, so good, Your Highness!”
Meanwhile, a woman who had been sitting near the head of the man—Grand Duke Baden—rose to her feet. She poured condensed milk, which had been prepared for dipping strawberries, onto her own chest. The viscous white liquid trickled down her full breasts, pooling in a droplet at the tip of her nipple.
Grand Duke Baden’s lust-clouded eyes watched her obsessively. The woman brought her milk-drenched breast to his mouth and whispered softly.
“Your Highness, it’s Amang Rose.”
A round, white breast. A milky-white liquid spattered across a rose-red areola.
As if he had forgotten he was the King of Pelfe’s brother and the president of the Pelfe Bank, the Grand Duke stuck out his tongue and began to lick her breast. He paid no mind to the condensed milk smearing his face, grabbing both breasts and licking them again and again as the woman let out a pleased moan.
“Haaah… ah… good.”
She dared to stroke the Grand Duke’s head as she commanded him.
“Suck it… suck it for me.”
At the prostitute’s command, the Grand Duke began to suckle her breast as if he had been waiting for the order. While he sucked so deeply his cheeks hollowed, the other woman, who was still joined with him, licked his chest.
“Haaah, ah, ah…”
As the Grand Duke let out a ragged breath at the peak of his pleasure, another orgy was unfolding beside him.
The lewd sound of wet flesh slapping together and performative moans heated the air. The velvet sofa, a work of art in itself, was soiled and damp with fluids. The clothes of distinguished guests, who had earlier put on airs of gentlemen, were strewn across the floor like rags. Expensive liquor worth hundreds of Kerte a drop was passed from mouth to mouth, only to be spilled.
In that room, where an astronomical sum was being spent in a single moment, not a single person was in their right mind. That was why, even when the door burst open with a tremendous crash, no one was capable of assessing the situation.
Oscar watched them with an amused glint in his eyes—these people who had cast off their dignity, their clothes, and their reason to rut like dogs. Waving off his men who moved to follow, he entered the room of debauchery with a leisurely stride. The Grand Duke’s secretary hastily shut the door behind him.
Oscar sat down on the sofa opposite the Grand Duke, who was panting, his body still entangled with two prostitutes. As he put a cigarette to his lips and lit it, the Grand Duke’s secretary made every effort to rouse his master.
“Your Highness, Your Highness!”
The Grand Duke, still thrusting in the throes of ecstasy, snapped irritably at the hand patting his back.
“What is it!”
“Your Highness, please…”
“Who let you in!”
The secretary, half in tears, pointed ahead. The gazes of the Grand Duke and his guests followed his finger.
“……”
“……”
“……”
There, a man sat with one leg crossed over the other in a sprawling posture, smoking a cigarette.
Oscar was the only one to laugh in the stunned silence. He then spoke to the Grand Duke.
“Please, continue what you were doing. I can wait.”
The moment his low voice, thick with ridicule, faded, the Grand Duke hastily pulled himself from the prostitute’s tight sheath. A gush of milky-white semen erupted from the tip of his flushed erection. The prostitutes, who had been engaged in all manner of acts, scrambled to their feet. The guests who had been part of the orgy were in a frenzy, grabbing for their discarded undergarments.
In the chaos, liquor was spilled and glasses shattered.
“I told you to take your time.”
A careless puff of smoke, a joking tone. A face that was clearly smiling, yet seemed chillingly cold and arrogant.
Grand Duke Baden, who had been fumbling to put on the underwear his secretary handed him, froze. As if struck by a thought, he threw the garment to the floor and straightened his back. He glared at the young Marquis, who was still smoking nonchalantly, and bit out his words.
“Everyone, get out.”
At his command, the guests and prostitutes moved as if they had been waiting for the order. As they scrambled out, barely covering their naked bodies, the Grand Duke snatched the arm of the woman who had been beneath him.
“Y-Your Highness?”
“You, sit and pour the drinks.”
Then, wearing nothing but a robe over his naked body, he plopped down on the same sofa where he had just been. He leaned back deep into the cushions and flicked his fingers. His secretary quickly offered him a cigarette. As the Grand Duke took a long drag, adopting a posture just as sprawling as Oscar’s, the secretary leaned in and rapidly whispered the news he had failed to deliver.
A foul smile formed on the Grand Duke’s lips as he listened. He stared into the eyes of the uninvited guest seated before him and spoke, his voice loud enough for show.
“Interesting. I understand. You may leave.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
After the secretary bowed respectfully and withdrew, only three people remained in the room.
The Grand Duke, the prostitute, and…
Oscar von Reinhardt.
The end of the cigarette held between Oscar’s long, straight fingers steadily burned away, its smoke often wreathed around him. Through the hazy veil, only his unusually blue eyes were sharp and clear.
He was a man born a nobleman. His father was the Great General of Luxen, whose statue stood in the square before the Luxen Royal Palace, an object of praise even twenty years after his death. His mother was famed as the most beautiful woman in East Norfolk.
And yet, he brought to mind rubble-choked mines, lightless pits, black iron ore, and coal. Not a splendid castle, but a blackened one ravaged by fire, with crows circling overhead.
The Wolf of Luxen. A man even the King of Pelfe was reluctant to face. The territory he possessed was larger than the entire city-state of Pelfe, and he was so busy that even the nobles of his own Luxen found it difficult to catch a glimpse of his face.
When this man, so busy that even his own king struggled for an audience, had come to see him personally, the Grand Duke’s spirits had soared.
He couldn’t help but be pleased.