Kiik!

A door-opening sound came, and neither of them noticed it. They had already lost their senses long ago; all they cared about now was devouring each other, violating each other's bodies, enjoying those heated moments and the climax they were close to reaching.

Yet even , It disrupted them—something that pulled their attention.

Despite how clear the sound was, it was the most irritating thing they could hear because it came at the exact wrong moment.

"By hell, what is this?! Marceline—bodies! Blood! What happened here?!"

Cyn looked toward the source of the voice. Two naked women stood there:

The blonde with the perfect body and fiery eyes, dripping with sweat and nectar between her thighs; and beside her, the enchanting dark-skinned woman with a slender yet alluring frame.

They stepped out from the door leading to the bedroom, not the main exit.

Which meant they had been inside the bedroom this whole time.

Cyn stared at them. He had a rough idea of what was going on here. His encounters with the king's wives were few—four or five, plus Xyrene.

One thing he was certain of:

The woman in his lap wasn't Astrida.

She too stared at them, as if she had completely forgotten herself, especially with these two standing just behind the bedroom door, pleasing one another.

Drool dripped from the sides of her lips, her ruined eyeliner smeared across half her face, mixing with dried blood.

She spoke with a hoarse voice:

"Ahh, Astrida… Qurah… nothing to worry about~"

She quickly backed off him and got off his lap. Her nightgown revealed what had happened—especially her underwear on the floor and the soaked carpet drenched with her continuous nectar.

The blonde, Astrida, stared in disbelief.

"What happened? Two corpses… blood everywhere… what if an envoy walks in right now?! Esmond was clear about this matter—especially about you! Damn it, who is that next to you?!"

Marceline smiled.

"Just cover it up. Don't overthink it."

Astrida flicked her eyes toward Qurah, signaling to her about the "other person" present.

Marceline understood what Astrida meant. Qurah was troublesome—her personality was simply bad. If she Catched you doing something and she'd never forget it.

Marceline gave Qurah a tiny nod.

The latter smiled. "Anything for you, darling Marcy. But introduce us to your lover—

I didn't know a princess could pick her own sweetheart before marriage."

Astrida glared at Qurah with fiery eyes, warning her, and Qurah chuckled.

"Kidding, kidding! I'm trying to lighten the mood, geeze. What's with you, Astrida? Didn't we just share each other moments ago? Were you pretending when you confessed your great love for me on that bed? Or was it just a moment of lust?"

Astrida sighed and stopped caring about her words. She stared at the young man on the chair—the handsome one she had always desired.

She spoke with a fiery tone that matched her eyes:

"Cynnnn?!Xyrene's Dog! You should already know your place. You stand before Her Royal Highness, Second Princess to the King of Corvannis, Esmond Urhan Veyran.

Bow!"

Cyn thought how good it would feel to break her in bed. But he wasn't planning to sleep with her—not now, not anytime soon.

"You're the king's wife. You hold the princess title too, even though royal blood doesn't run in your veins. Should I bow to you as well?" Cyn answered.

Astrida knew Cyn's nature. She had someone monitoring him for years. She even placed a spy maid inside Xyrene's wing. She knew he wasn't just some Consort to Xyrene; she knew he wouldn't bow even if ordered. Even Xyrene herself struggled to deal with him.

She assumed he would at least show respect to someone like Marceline—the king's younger sister, a woman capable of commanding factions inside and outside the palace.

But he never would.

For over four years she had investigated him:

A barbarian captured and brought to the palace because he was exceptional in many ways.

They needed someone like him—someone who knew what lay beyond the mighty mountains, someone who could help them conquer and negotiate with barbarian tribes in the future.

Cyn rose from the chair and, unexpectedly, wrapped his arms around Marceline from behind, kissing her neck and leaving love marks.

Marceline tried to escape his hold, but his arms held her firmly.

Astrida's fiery eyes blazed with fury.

Qurah was stunned by his audacity but only smiled—it was her first time witnessing this.

"Annnh"

Marceline's moans and gasps filled the room as Cyn assaulted her neck. His hands slid to her breasts, squeezing them through her nightgown.

His hand caressed her stomach before slipping downward, lifting her gown just enough for her intimate bloom to be visible to Astrida and Qurah.

With a small motion of his fingers, he parted her outer folds.

Her wet, warm entrance was clearly visible—red, moist, waiting to be painted white.

Marceline tried to pull her nightgown down, embarrassed to death.

Her moans pleaded with him to stop.

But Cyn, like an obedient boy, listened and let her go.

Astrida was left speechless. Nobles, the mightiest in the kingdom, even the church—none would dare do such a thing. If anyone else did this, they would die. No one would attempt it—not without hesitation.

But him? He did it without consequences. Without thinking twice.

As if he knew nothing would happen to him.

This was the problem—them.

Weak. Too yielding.

Astrida knew the fault was theirs, not his.

Even Marceline, a princess, could do nothing.

Marceline picked up her underwear to put it on.

Cyn approached the two women, and Astrida almost stepped back.

He stopped her with his words:

"Didn't you summon me, Your Highness Astrida? What could someone as mighty as you possibly desire from a lowly concubine like me?"

He bowed mockingly.

She hated herself more than anyone else at that moment.

Envy. Resentment.

Especially toward Xyrene—how did she manage to keep him?

If Astrida were in Xyrene's place, Cyn would've turned her into a doll long ago.

Suddenly, Cyn grabbed her hand. Astrida flinched—she had been lost in her thoughts.

"What are you—let go of my ha—

What happened next shocked her.

With gentle warmth, he brushed her golden hair back and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Her pupils trembled.

A warm tear slid down her cheek.

Her eyes stared into him—into that abyss within his gaze.

But she was captivated. Spellbound.

He was as handsome as she always saw him.

She wanted him for herself—not Xyrene.

She had sacrificed Alot so that Xyrene would share her private lover. Here he stood before her — he did not kiss her in a bestial way, he did not share his tongue with her nor did he touch her naked body with his hands; only a superficial kiss — and something awoke inside her.

Cyn stepped back with a teasing smile.

"No need to cry. I'm not going to bully you."

She felt weak—Astrida felt utterly weak.

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