Die Melusine - Chapter 39

When Melusine opened her eyes this time, the space beside her was empty. It was a sensation she was far more familiar with.

Sighing softly, she tried to shift her body from its slightly tilted position to lie flat, but she gave up almost immediately. Her body felt utterly drained, as though even moving a single finger was impossible.

Yesterday, she hadn’t been able to leave the bed all day. Someone had come in at intervals to bring food, and her only clear memory was hurriedly chewing and swallowing whatever Kieron had put into her mouth between the moments when he relentlessly took her again and again.

Even in those brief pauses, he hadn’t stopped colliding his body with hers. Eating, being devoured, and then devouring once more…

Perhaps humans were more beast-like than the fish in the sea.

“…I’m hungry,” she murmured to herself, her voice hoarse. Now that her mind had cleared a little, her empty stomach twisted painfully, and she could almost imagine the scent of food wafting through the air.

“Then come eat.”

Startled by the unexpected sound of another’s voice, she turned her head sharply in the opposite direction. There, seated at the table beside the room, was Kieron, reclining lazily.

“Kieron…?”

“Do you always sleep this much?”

Kieron had woken before dawn and spent some time watching her sleep without moving an inch. Her small shoulders, rising and falling steadily with her breaths, caught his eye.

Even after he finished his light morning training and returned, she hadn’t stirred. The sun had risen high into the sky, and still, she remained as she was. It was strange to see her sleep so deeply.

Perhaps stranger still was the fact that he himself, who rarely managed even a brief nap, could somehow sleep soundly beside her.

“I don’t know…” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she slowly pushed herself upright.

At the edge of her hazy vision, Kieron came into focus. He was fully dressed in clean clothes, looking as polished and composed as ever. In her eyes, he seemed impossibly dashing, as usual.

A thick stack of papers lay on the table in front of him, and in one of his large hands was a ridiculously small cup.

“When…?”

It was only then that Melusine realized she was wearing a thin negligee and even undergarments beneath it. She blinked in confusion. Surely Kieron hadn’t dressed her himself…?

She curiously ran her hands over the nearly transparent fabric, marveling at how little it concealed. Before she could think much more about it, Kieron tapped the empty chair beside him with his index finger, signaling for her to come over and sit down.

“Ah…”

But when she swung her legs off the bed and tried to stand, her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor. She couldn’t even muster the strength to stand properly.

Glancing up at him, she saw that he didn’t spare her so much as a glance. His focus remained on the papers in front of him, as though she didn’t exist.

Realizing she wouldn’t be able to walk, Melusine planted her hands on the ground and began dragging herself forward, inching her way toward him on her bottom.

With every heavy movement of her legs, a sharp pain shot through her waist and pelvis, forcing her to pause now and then to let out a long sigh.

The table by the balcony, which had seemed only a few steps away when viewed from the bed, now felt impossibly far.

Melusine barely had time to process her next thought when she suddenly felt her body lifted into the air. Kieron had slipped his hands under her arms and effortlessly picked her up, setting her down in the chair beside him.

“Tsk.” He clicked his tongue as if to scold her incompetence, then turned his attention back to the papers he had been reading. That indifferent attitude of his felt oddly… infuriating.

“Annoying.”

Melusine had learned that word from Ann, her chatterbox companion. Ann used it whenever other maids secretly ate treats without her, hid juicy gossip, or pretended to be sick to avoid work only to reveal themselves as perfectly healthy later.

“This is your fault,” Melusine grumbled.

She was sitting uncomfortably, her body sore and aching, while the one responsible for her condition looked completely relaxed and at ease. Yes, she was certain now—he was annoying.

“…What?”

Finally, Kieron’s gaze shifted from the papers to her. The moment his golden eyes met hers, the annoyance she felt vanished like smoke in the wind.

Oh. Maybe she just wanted him to pay attention to her. A warm, bubbly feeling stirred inside her chest, and she began fidgeting with the ruffled hem of her sheer negligee.

“Well… I mean… my legs and body hurt so much,” she murmured, her voice trailing off.

A soft chuckle escaped him, the low sound sending a tingle through her chest again.

“So… everything is my fault?”

“Yes! Obviously, Kieron—ahh!”

She tried to insist, but her voice faltered as Kieron’s hand brushed the ruffles aside and slid along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Even the faint warmth of his touch made her body tense involuntarily.

Could it be… again? Her body responded before her mind could catch up, anticipating what was to come. Though her body felt as though it would split apart from overuse, she didn’t dislike it. Every time they joined, it surpassed her wildest imagination.

Clink.

The sound of a bell interrupted her swirling thoughts, snapping her back to reality. Kieron had pulled the string connected to the bell near the table. Moments later, the door opened, and a line of maids filed in, perfectly coordinated.

All of them were strangers to Melusine. They didn’t glance in her direction even once, their focus solely on the task of filling the table with an array of dishes. Plates piled high with raw fish, clams, and other seafood, along with cups filled with seawater—everything was exactly to her liking.

“Wow…”

Her eyes sparkled with delight as she turned to Kieron, only to see him gazing at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. His sharp, elongated eyes narrowed slightly in her direction, his face softer than usual.

“Can I eat all of it?”

At her question, Kieron gave a slight nod. The moment he did, Melusine grabbed a fish in each hand, wasting no time in taking quick, hungry bites. She chewed and swallowed eagerly, all the while Kieron’s hand continued to languidly stroke her inner thigh.

“But… where is this place? And where’s Ann?”

Melusine looked around, suddenly realizing how unfamiliar everything smelled and felt. She missed the sound of Ann’s cheerful chatter, which usually greeted her the moment she woke up.

“Hmm. Where, indeed?” Kieron muttered cryptically.

The truth? They were in the Grand Duke’s seaside villa—or, as Kieron sometimes thought of it, his childhood glass aquarium.

“Your Highness.”

A voice broke the moment, deep and steady. Among the maids who had quietly finished their duties and exited the room, an elderly butler stood upright, his presence commanding. He was the only one here who remembered Kieron’s time in this villa when he was still a boy.

“The Count of Luterne is waiting for you,” the butler informed, his tone steady as always.

“And the study?”

Even as he spoke, the Grand Duke’s sharp golden gaze lingered on the woman devouring the pungent-smelling fish at the table.

Behind his round silver-rimmed glasses, the stern butler’s eyes softened just slightly at the sight of his master’s unusual behavior.

“As per your orders, it has been cleared.”

“Tell him I’ll be there soon. I need to finish feeding her first.”

“My apologies, Your Highness, but the Count has been waiting since last night—”

Kieron, resting his chin in his hand, slowly turned his head to the butler. Though the motion was subtle, the sharpness in his gaze made the older man stiffen immediately.

“Never mind, Your Highness. I will relay the message as instructed.”

At that moment, Melusine suddenly dropped the fish she was holding onto the table and grabbed Kieron’s arm with both hands. Her urgency was evident, as she hastily chewed the remaining fish in her mouth and tried to swallow it too quickly, choking in the process.

“Ugh, cough—cough!”

A large hand appeared, offering her a glass of water. But instead of taking it, Melusine widened her eyes even further, gripping his arm tighter as if she were afraid he would disappear.

“Are you… really going to leave?” she stammered, her voice trembling with panic.

“If I do?”

Kieron’s eyes swept over her, savoring every subtle shift in her expression.

In desperation, Melusine guided his hand down to her thighs, pulling it between her legs.

“We… we can do it again. As much as you want. Just… don’t go.”

One corner of Kieron’s mouth tugged upward in a restrained smirk. The woman’s nervous gaze darted to his lips, eagerly awaiting his answer.

“With a body that can’t even walk?”

His tone held a faint amusement, the ghost of a laugh lurking beneath his words.

Melusine hesitated, unsure how to respond, but before she could overthink, Kieron slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. His hand trailed up her back in a slow, teasing motion, making her shiver instinctively.

“Even if walking is hard, I can still… still do that… ah!”

Her words were cut off when he suddenly nipped at the tip of her nose. Startled, Melusine released his arm to cover her face with both hands.

“Be good and wait. I’ll give you plenty later,” he murmured.

“You’ll come back? You will come back, right? Promise?”

Her nose now bright red, her face lit up with an innocent glow of joy.

“Yes, Mel,” he replied, his tone soft yet firm. “So don’t move from here.”

Kieron leaned in and claimed the lips of his “pet mermaid” in a deep, possessive kiss, silencing her excited chatter.

***

“Your Grace!”

The moment Ian spotted Kieron, he strode forward with urgency. His disheveled hair and the pallor of his face, worn from the past few days, were far from his usual composed demeanor.

“You’ve made it back. I should have tightened security even more.”

Kieron brushed past Ian without sparing him a glance and dropped heavily into the leather chair behind the desk. The large, rarely-used chair creaked under his weight, its sound adding to the air of irritation surrounding him.

“The Marquis of Hesnal waited in your study all night,” Ian began, his tone both anxious and insistent. “And if you had seen the marquis’s daughter pale as a sheet at the ball that evening—”

“So?”

“Pardon?”

Ian froze mid-sentence, startled by the single, curt word.

“You managed the banquet exactly as ordered, didn’t you? So what’s the reason for your agitation?”

“But Your Grace,” Ian pressed on, his voice faltering slightly, “if things continue this way, the day of the rebellion could be set sooner than we anticipate. It’s during such times that you must exercise even greater caution—”

“Ian, don’t fool yourself.”

Leaning back into the chair, Kieron propped his boots up on the desk with a thud. The heavy, polished wood of the oversized desk seemed to shrink beneath the sheer presence of his figure.

His piercing eyes and furrowed brows fixed Ian with a chilling glare. For a moment, Ian was struck by the resemblance between Kieron and the late emperor during their first audience—both figures commanding, imposing, and unrelenting.

“They need me, Ian. Not the other way around.”

“Of course, that’s true, but—”

“Unless you’d rather I start spreading rumors that you and the marquis are conspiring together to commit treason?”

“W-what?”

Ian’s armored shoulders stiffened, the accusation striking him like a bolt.

“Well, I suppose that is both your flaw and your strength,” Kieron added, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The jab cut deep, leaving Ian bowing his head in acknowledgment of his superior’s pointed words.

The Marquis of Hesnal’s house may have been slighted in a grand and public way, but no one dared to openly criticize or even hint at dissatisfaction with Kieron’s decisions. Ian’s restless pacing and urgent pleas were born of his own anxiety, not the Marquis’s.

“Don’t act with your eyes fixed only on what’s in front of you,” Kieron advised, his voice low but steady.

“…Yes, Your Grace.”

“You know this, Ian. Planting a victory flag in battle is not the end of the war.”

The true victory lies in returning alive to home soil.

“I’ll remember that.”

Ian could not misunderstand his superior’s meaning. Kieron’s enemies were not confined to the battlefield.

Just as they hadn’t been all those years ago, back when something unforgettable—something dark—had taken place at this very villa.