Chapter 52
Chapter 52
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Lover's Duty
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“ Ah…….”
Daphne twisted her body uncomfortably at the familiar yet utterly alien sensation.
What should she do?
She was the emperor’s lover.
The emperor’s lover. She had resolved to throw herself at Asherad, so why did she keep pulling away like this? Daphne lifted her body and straddled him, facing Asherad. She felt a massive heat between her legs.
“Am I a fairy?”
Daphne asked with an innocent expression. She didn’t mean to sound that way.
She had only asked because she couldn’t believe his absurd flattery.
Her straddled hips and guileless face were undoubtedly provocative. Asherad bit at the nape of her neck.
“Eek!”
The hands gripping her shoulders trembled violently. Her nape grew hot under his scorching breath. Daphne shivered.
As he unbuckled his pants, the restrained length sprang free. Daphne stroked the hardness wrapped in thin undergarments and moved her hips. Her breath quickened. He pulled down the neckline of her dress and pressed his lips to her chest.
“Mmph!”
As if it were the most natural thing, his lips met her breast. Daphne kept moving her hips. Something warm brushed against her through the thin fabric. Was this all she had to do? If they went all the way like this, could she satisfy him?
Yes, let’s do it.
That was a lover’s duty, wasn’t it? To exist for the emperor’s satisfaction. Daphne needed to accept Asherad’s love. Receive his love, reassure him, and then escape.
She had to act that way to uproot any seeds of suspicion from this man who still thought she might run. Daphne pressed her lips to Asherad’s cheek.
“Haah, Your Majesty.”
Asherad stared at her blankly for a moment before stilling her hips. He studied her face intently.
“Stop.”
“…….”
“That’s enough.”
Why? Was her seduction that pathetic? As Daphne looked puzzled, Asherad stroked her hair. He pulled her waist close and buried his face in her delicate collarbone.
His ragged breathing betrayed clear arousal. Daphne couldn’t understand. She could only nestle in his arms and wait for his excitement to subside.
Cradled in his embrace, Daphne thought.
Why?
Why?
Why?
She admitted she had no skill at seducing men. But she knew these stimuli were impossible to ignore.
So why wouldn’t Asherad take her?
‘It can’t be that he’s already bored of me…….’
She mocked herself coldly for entertaining such a seductress’s thought.
* * *
The door opened, and the nobles who had arrived ahead spotted the imperial carriage. Today was the day the infamous seductress’s daughter, Daphne, would make her appearance.
It was said the emperor currently kept no wife, only a lover.
Even as crown prince, he had been flawless. And now his sole flaw was a woman? The daughter of that seductress who had endangered his own mother?
The nobles, eager to find even one blemish on the too-perfect emperor, glared with bloodshot eyes. They were ready to mock him at any moment.
“No way they rode in the same carriage?”
“So it seems.”
“Heavens, His Imperial Majesty…….”
People shook their heads in disbelief and waited anxiously for the emperor’s carriage.
“But why is he so late?”
“Exactly. Could he be enjoying himself with that seductress?”
The emperor was overdue despite having departed already. All sorts of lascivious imaginings stirred the nobles.
Finally, the carriage door opened. The emperor stepped out first. He glanced around curiously before lifting the corner of his mouth.
Even simply standing and surveying his surroundings, the emperor’s refined features made him seem divine.
He extended a hand into the carriage. All eyes turned tensely to the young lady. But they looked puzzled.
Typically, a seductress evoked images of a beautiful, glamorous woman adorned with jewels as marks of affection. The epitome of allure, with red lipstick and coquettish wiles.
That was the kind of mistress they knew, and they assumed the emperor’s would be no different.
Yet the dress of the woman who alighted was remarkably modest. She seemed better suited to a flower crown than gold hairpins or jeweled tiaras.
Her slightly fearful eyes looked harmless, devoid of any sultry charm or flirtation.
And contrary to expectations of vulgar posture, her movements were graceful, without excess.
She bit her lip and bowed her head meekly at the crowd, then gazed at the forest with childlike wonder, like a sheltered noble lady innocent of the world.
Raised as a palace maid, they said? Most unaware of the details tilted their heads.
They had hoped to mock the emperor’s taste for voluptuous women, but mockery wouldn’t come. Amid those gazes, a cold stare fixed on her.
It was Callista.
“So, you’ve finally slithered in.”
Callista had no intention of letting Daphne encroach on her territory.
This place would be your end.
At that moment, Callista’s eyes met Asherad’s. She hastily looked away, but Asherad did not. For a fleeting instant, the corner of his mouth twitched up, then down.
* * *
Those draped in cloaks emblazoned with their house crests all stood ready. Amid wooden fences, participants and non-participants in the hunt separated.
The women’s eyes sparkled. The vow to kiss a lady’s hand before departure and offer her the hunt’s spoils—that was their utmost fascination.
The men’s eyes brimmed with tension too. The event, halted by the late emperor’s illness, reopened under Asherad’s reign.
A chance to display their house’s greatness, their own prowess, and win ladies’ cheers.
Before setting out, each kissed the handkerchief from his lady and the hand that offered it, singing of love. Truly picturesque scenes.
Artemisia, having received a kiss on her hand’s back from her big brother, glanced around. Daphne had to be among the women somewhere…… It had been ages since she’d seen her, perhaps due to lessons ending and Asherad’s influence.
Daphne wanted to become Judith, who beheaded Asherad.
If she sought freedom from oppression, it was only right to help. She’d thought they might cross paths at the hunt, but where was she?
As she scanned the women, Artemisia realized others’ gazes had converged on one spot. Her own gaze halted there too.
It was Asherad, visible from afar though not clearly.
His usually slicked-back hair loose lent him a boyish air. His skin gleamed so white under the bright sun it took on a bluish tint.
Eyes holding the green of summer foliage. Even silently turning his head, Asherad exuded an aura that tensed onlookers.
In hunting attire, he seemed freer, more unbound than in his usual formal robes.
Artemisia finally understood her big brother’s fuss about how Asherad’s participation swayed noble attendance. She’d known, but he was quite dashing. Even that single stray lock protruding.
“Mother.”
Unlike those seeking Daphne, he sought Callista first.
A soft hum of air vibrated gently, and people unconsciously sighed in relief. They watched the woman in the innermost shaded pavilion rise.
A woman with golden hair tinged red. Slender, in a cool sky-blue dress, she approached him. Artemisia and a few others sneered coldly. Mother and son? That sight?
Callista’s cheeks flushed, eyes wide—like a shy maiden courted by a man. Being called ‘mother’ and ‘son’ was mere playacting. Seeing through the deception, Artemisia clicked her tongue.
The perceptive few knew Callista obsessed over Asherad excessively.
She attended every event he did without fail, and she had delayed his marriage.
How many women had pursued Asherad only to face Callista’s humiliation and vanish?
In any case, Asherad graciously knelt before Callista, his peer in age, honoring her as an elder, and kissed her hand. A breeze rustled their hair. A picture-perfect scene.
Breaking the breathless silence, Asherad spoke.
“I thank you for attending, Mother. I hope it’s not too hot.”
“The shade is delightfully cool. The weather’s perfect, Asherad.”
Asherad mirrored her smiling tone with a smile of his own.
“In this chill winter, I fear you’ll catch cold again, Mother. I’ll hunt a fine fox for your scarf.”
“A fox?”
“Yes.”
Callista’s eyes lit up. Tigers, bears, buffalo—grand prey indeed—but foxes were rare too. How precious their cunning pelts! Yet Callista chuckled with a sniff.
“Oh, Asherad. What of tigers or wolves? Does that mean you won’t bring such grand trophies to this mother anymore? You’re not planning to give them to someone else, are you?”