Die Melusine - Chapter 34

After sending away the bothersome woman, the hall was once again filled with nothing but tedium.

The noise from the large crowd of humans gathered at the main palace grated on Kieron’s nerves, leaving his head pounding. He had stepped out onto the balcony to take a few drags from a cigar, hoping for some relief.

He wished he could simply leave, but as the host of the Grand Duke’s banquet, that wasn’t an option.

Did my little fish go back to her room?

He thought of her face, clueless and bewildered, as she stuck out her tongue in confusion. Her lips, wet and glistening, and her flushed cheeks, tinged with pink, also came to mind.

The memory made him crave another cigar.

“Your Grace.”

The voice of a woman dressed in white broke through his thoughts. Judging by her golden hair and petite frame, she was likely the young lady of the Hesnal Marquisate.

When Kieron nodded in acknowledgment, she stepped closer, her perfume cloying and overly sweet tonight.

“I’ve heard the news from my father,” she whispered, her voice soft yet pointed.

“…Is that so?”

The words the Marquis of Hesnal had likely spoken were obvious—predictable and not worth Kieron’s effort to address.

When he responded with only indifference, Estelle clenched her fists tightly behind the folds of her dress. How foolish she had been to think that simply initiating a conversation would prompt him to continue it on his own.

But she couldn’t let herself falter. With all eyes in the hall now fixed on her and Kieron, standing awkwardly in silence was out of the question. For the sake of her goal, she swallowed her pride.

“So… um… my father mentioned that…”

Kieron’s languid gaze shifted to her, sharp and unnerving even behind his mask. Estelle felt a chill run down her spine, his intense aura prickling her skin.

In her life, Estelle had rarely met anyone she considered difficult to deal with. People either adored her or revered her, and even the emperor himself behaved meekly around her, his childhood friend.

But Kieron was the exception. Whenever she stood before him, her entire body tensed, her fingertips trembling.

Yet, she didn’t dislike the feeling. If anything, she craved it.

“My lord father said that Your Grace expressed a desire to share the last dance with me tonight. Just like in the old tales of the empire,” she said, her voice steady but hopeful.

When Kieron remained unresponsive, Estelle’s anxiety grew, and she began fidgeting with the lace of her dress. After what felt like an eternity, he finally gave a short reply.

“Very well.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Estelle allowed her delight to show this time, her lips curving into an unrestrained smile.

Since her arrival in Triton, she had struggled to enjoy herself fully, burdened by distractions and irritations. But now, the obstacles had cleared away, and she could savor her position as the center of attention.

The nuisance that had been bothering her was gone, and her bond with the Grand Duke remained as secure as ever.

Kieron was a man of few affections, but Estelle had confidence. Once they were married, she was certain she could break down his defenses and make him hers completely.

Eagerly anticipating that day, Estelle gestured for her maid. She had prepared a special gown for the final dance and needed to change.

As she exited the ballroom to change her attire, she caught sight of a familiar figure brushing past her—the Count of Luthern, walking briskly toward Kieron as if carrying urgent news.

“My lady, we must hurry. Redressing and preparing your hair will take some time—”

“Wait. Just a moment,” Estelle interrupted, lingering near the doorway to observe from a distance.

Though she couldn’t hear their conversation, she could gauge their expressions. The count spoke a few words, and Kieron, listening intently, ran his thumb across his brow in an irritated gesture.

Kieron had never shown so much as a flicker of emotion in her presence, yet here he was, visibly agitated.

A strange sense of foreboding surged within Estelle.

After issuing some sort of command, Kieron watched as the count moved to the center of the hall and began addressing several heads of households, including the Marquis of Hesnal. The situation seemed to resolve smoothly, as the tension visibly eased in the room.

Relieved, Estelle let out a small sigh and finally began to follow her maid.

“Next time.”

“Your… Grace?”

Before she could respond properly, Kieron swept past her once again, as he had earlier in the evening.

This time, he discarded his mask carelessly as he left, a servant hastily picking it up. His long strides carried him out of the hall and down the corridor within moments.

“Give that to me,” Estelle said, reaching for the mask.

“Ah, yes… My lady,” the servant replied, placing it in her hands.

Estelle gripped the mask tightly, her knuckles turning white.

It must be something serious, she thought, her chest tightening.

Perhaps it’s related to the emperor. That would explain his abrupt departure.

She told herself she could understand. She had to understand.

Still, as she turned back toward the now-empty corridor, there wasn’t even a shadow of her fiancé left to cling to.

***

Ian had brought troubling news: multiple sentries reported a small woman with pink hair passing through several eastern gates near the secluded palace. The only destination beyond those gates was the sea.

Kieron drove his horse harder than ever, the animal galloping with furious speed. He clenched his jaw so tightly that his jaw began to ache.

Melusine.

He had expected her to quietly stay put, waiting obediently this time. Yet here she was, once again blindsiding him with her audacity.

The irritation welling up inside him felt like a stone lodged in his chest. He dug his heels into the horse’s sides, urging it faster. As the wind whipped past him, Kieron’s mind drifted to the first time he had met her.

He could have left her in that glass tank. He could have followed his subordinate’s advice and tossed her back into the sea on their way back to Triton.

The more he tried to ignore her, the more she wormed her way into his thoughts. Even on nights when he deliberately avoided her, the memory of her tantalizing song would echo faintly in his ears whenever he closed his eyes.

And not just that—the feel of her drenched, trembling body clinging to him, struggling to keep up yet still accepting him fully. The way her blue eyes had sparkled as ecstasy flooded over her like a rising tide.

As soon as he passed through the outer gates, the sea unfolded before him, a vast, pitch-black expanse he had known his entire life. The ominous night waters, which unsettled most, had always been his solace.

At least, until now—until his possession began trying to escape to it.

It seemed her bare legs couldn’t carry her any farther, as Kieron finally spotted her silhouette on the pale sands ahead.

The moment he saw her, his body responded instinctively, a heavy ache pooling low in his abdomen.

It was nothing but base instinct—just the sight of prey, he told himself.

“Move. Forward,” Kieron growled, spurring the horse on.

The crashing of waves grew louder, the salty tang of the sea filling his lungs. Even his well-trained horse seemed to tense as they neared the turbulent shore.

“Kieron?”

Melusine turned just as he closed the gap between them.

The speed of his approach, without any sign of slowing, made him seem like a massive wave about to engulf her. She could see it coming, but she didn’t move—just as inevitable as a wave crashing against the shore.

The sound of hooves pounding against the wet sand swallowed her in an instant.

“Ah!”

Kieron gripped the reins with one hand and swept Melusine onto his horse with the other, hoisting her onto the saddle effortlessly. Before she could fully settle, he turned the horse sharply, guiding it along the shoreline at a slow trot.

Still seated behind her, Kieron pulled her roughly into his chest, his arms tightening around her with bruising strength.

“I warned you,” he growled, his voice low and cold against her ear, “not to act on your own.”

His tone was colder than the sea breeze, making her shoulders involuntarily tremble.

“B-but… you told me to go back,” she stammered, her breath coming faster as his grip squeezed her even tighter.

“I also told you not to make your own assumptions.”

“Then… ah!”

Her nervous attempt to respond was abruptly cut off as Kieron’s teeth grazed her ear, biting down sharply before moving to her nose, lips, and cheek. His mouth seemed intent on consuming her whole, his lips and teeth marking her face over and over.

Melusine gasped, cupping her now flushed, swollen cheek with her hand.

It’s so hot.

The tingling pain radiating from her face spread throughout her body, leaving her thighs itching with a strange, familiar heat.

She’d felt it before—this unmistakable sensation.

In the ballroom, he had kissed her as if possessed, only to leave her behind afterward. She had wondered if that moment was a coincidence. But deep down, she was just happy he had come back for her.

She had waited so long—for his arms, for this time together.

Melusine clung tightly, her free hand instinctively brushing over the firm arm wrapped around her waist, seeking reassurance. Despite their shared proximity, fear gripped her heart—a fear that he might disappear again, leaving her adrift.

“More… please, Kieron…?” she whispered, her voice faint and breathy, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

The arm holding her tensed at her plea.

“…What?” Kieron’s voice was low, sharp, and cold.

What infuriated him most was this: she didn’t understand. No matter how harshly he pushed, no matter what venom he spat, she clung to him with unrelenting devotion, her blue eyes filled with nothing but warmth.

It was maddening.

His darker instincts—engrained through years of control and a lifetime of ruthlessness—urged him to push further, to test her limits. He wanted to see how far this blind loyalty could go before it cracked.

“Get down,” he commanded, his voice like steel, his golden eyes gleaming dangerously. “Hold on tight.”

With that, he pressed her torso forward, her arms forced to wrap tightly around the horse’s neck for balance. Her voluminous skirt spilled outward, and Kieron’s hand moved swiftly, unapologetically, parting the fabric.

“Huh? Ah… ngh—”

Melusine shivered, her breath catching as she clung desperately, her senses overwhelmed.

Kieron tore through the layers of lace and silk that enveloped her, shredding petticoats and undergarments like wrapping paper. As the delicate fabric fell away, it revealed her pale thighs and hips, gleaming softly even in the dim light, precariously straddling the saddle.

His large hand descended, gripping the supple curve of her flesh with unrelenting force, leaving no room for resistance.

“From now on, stop thinking altogether, Melusine,” he growled, his tone low and commanding, laced with something darker.

Like the fish you are—mine alone.

Kieron’s long, thick fingers moved deliberately, brushing aside the last remnants of her undergarments. They slid slowly into the shadowed curve of her hips, exploring with an unsettling patience.

“I’ll make sure you can’t think of anything else,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with a dark promise.