2.3 There is No Regression for the Victor
“Mister, are you sure you can really treat him? And you’re really going to give me the money you mentioned?! B-but why are you taking the monk too? Huh?!”
Marcel swallowed a deep sigh, trying his best to ignore the child who was screaming at the top of his lungs despite being held back by soldiers. He was hiding in a place like this; no wonder we couldn’t find him.
Just as the Imperial Prince had suddenly become obsessed with his enemy and developed the will to become the Crown Prince, the world was truly unpredictable. To think that the one who informed them of the Duke’s hiding place—the man who had vanished so thoroughly—was a young child who looked barely ten years old. Nothing could have been more unexpected.
The child, the informant, was said to be an orphan taken in by a monastery. Wanting to contribute even a little to the monastery’s dire finances, the child had apparently gone to a nearby city to work as a shoeshine boy during the hours the adults weren’t watching. He had overheard talk of the bounty for the Duke from the customers whose shoes he polished and immediately went to the government office to ask what would happen if the Duke were caught. The old man handling civil complaints at the office was not from Quilan but had been dispatched from Osbrant, and he quickly realized the child knew something.
The child had guided the search party personally, asking several times if they would truly make the man well. The answer to that question was, of course, “Yes.” However, whether the Duke actually wanted that was a separate issue. It was unclear if clinging to his life regardless of his own will was truly for his own benefit.
“Let me go! Father Monk! Ugh…! Let go of me…!”
Unable to leave the struggling child be, one of the search party members eventually delivered a sharp blow to the back of the child’s neck, knocking him unconscious for a while. One of the soldiers, perhaps feeling pity for the boy, stuffed a few coins from his pocket into the pockets of the child who had fought so hard before fainting.
Innocent goodwill was truly a terrifying thing. The adults who had [Read on Read BL Novels]cared for him had kept their mouths shut and embraced asceticism to hide the man so thoroughly, yet this young child had ruined it all with what he believed were good intentions.
Only after everything finally fell silent did the view of the dilapidated monastery come into focus. It seemed the Duke had been hiding in a prison-like basement in this shabby place for nearly a month. When Marcel quickly descended to check, he found the Duke sleeping as if he were dead. After bringing his ear close to the Duke’s nose and chest and confirming that a faint breath still lingered, Marcel felt a sense of relief mixed with contradictory emotions.
It was true that he did not view the man fondly. However, since he couldn’t predict how the Crown Prince would react if he returned to the castle with only a corpse, Marcel obediently transported the Duke back to the Imperial Palace as if he were carrying a dead body.
After the Crown Prince’s loyal confidant arrived at the Imperial Palace, the Crown Prince’s Palace became a disaster zone. As the saying goes, birds hear the words of the day and mice hear the words of the night. The Emperor’s knights, who had not been reported to, blocked the gates of the Crown Prince’s Palace, though it was unclear where or how they had heard the news. Mikhail, who had rushed to the front of the palace after being contacted via communication orb before Marcel even arrived, was also blocked by the knights. The Crown Prince warned them, his eyes flashing with an uncharacteristic intensity.
“Move. I am the master of the Crown Prince’s Palace.”
However, the knights stood their ground without budging. Instead, they lined up, proudly displaying uniforms adorned with the insignia granted only to the knights who protected the Emperor. Then, pairing off, they crossed their ceremonial swords, preventing the Crown Prince from moving forward and blocking his confidant, who was waiting outside, from entering. Beyond the line of crossed swords, the Duke could be seen lying in a coffin like a corpse. On the surface, it looked as if a state funeral were being held, but ironically, the knights were preventing the coffin from entering. Mikhail shouted once more in a low voice.
“If you do not move, I will cut you down.”
He wasn’t joking; Mikhail had no room to think of anything else. It was already quite late. If he delayed any further, the situation might become irreversible. That fear paralyzed Mikhail’s reason. Sring. The sound of the master sword—which had severed the heads and split the hearts of countless monsters—leaving its scabbard made the knights in the back row flinch. However, the man at the front stood tall and answered.
“We are the swords that act as the Emperor’s hands and unauthorized copyfeet, moving by His Majesty’s command. We cannot [unauthorized copy]move until His Majesty’s order is given.”
It meant that even if their heads were severed, they would not betray their master. Mikhail’s eyebrow twitched for a moment before he asked back.
“Tell me what His Majesty has commanded.”
Then, the knight at the front—a brown-haired man who was likely the Emperor’s youngest loyalist—took a small letter from his breast pocket and read it.
“The Crown Prince’s Palace is the residence of the Crown Prince, the future leader of this nation. Therefore, the command is to never allow any danger that could possibly harm the Crown Prince’s royal person to enter.”
“Ha.”
Mikhail let out a scoffing laugh, as if he found it absurd. It was a ridiculous excuse. To call the Duke, who was at a critical crossroads of life and death where every second counted, a “danger.”
“Do you believe a patient who cannot even steady his own steps can pose a threat to me?”
The knight replied without backing down. With the Emperor Read on Read BL Novelsbacking him, stolen contenthe seemed not the least bit afraid of a mere Crown Prince.
“However, he was one of the most renowned magic scholars on the continent. This is all for Your Highness’s safety, so we beg for your forgiveness.”
“And if I say I cannot forgive you?”
Forgiveness be damned; if he couldn’t save the Duke here, Mikhail could not back down any further, even if it meant pointing his blade at the Emperor. Despite Mikhail’s defiant answer, the man replied without blinking.
“I merely follow His Majesty’s orders. Since a sword moves according to its master’s will, I will simply do my best to protect Your Highness.”
“Do your best to protect me, is it?”
Ridiculous. Mikhail knew exactly what his father’s intention was in blocking the palace entrance. By seizing on the fact that the man was still a traitorous criminal and a fugitive who had escaped his place of exile, the Emperor intended to stall for time, waiting for the frail Duke to succumb to the outdoor weather and draw his last breath. Yes, ‘for the sake of protecting me,’ he says. Thinking that it was a well-crafted line, Mikhail shifted his grip, pointing the tip of the sword he held in one hand toward his own chest.
“…!”
“Your Highness…!”
At Mikhail’s sudden action, Marcel, who was beyond the knights, shouted in a pale panic.
“Please stop, Your Highness!”
However, Mikhail paid him no mind, not even glancing back as he glared at the knight in the front row and asked.
“Do you still not understand what it means to protect me?”
The knight did not answer. Seizing the moment, Mikhail lifted the tip of the sword and drew a red line across his own neck. As a thin trail of blood stretched horizontally, gasps of shock erupted from all around.
“Your Highness!”
The man, who had faced the Crown Prince with composure until now, seemed quite flustered this time. His hand gripping the ceremonial sword trembled slightly as he replied.
“Is the hero who will carry the Empire on his back truly risking his own life to defend a criminal? Read on Read BL NovelsA traitor who nearly put all of Osbrant in danger? If Your unauthorized copyHighness possesses the discernment of a successor who will become the ruler of Osbrant…”
However, the words of the knight speaking on behalf of the Emperor were cut short.
“Discernment, you say.”
The Crown Prince sneered, readjusting the sword pointed at his neck as he continued.
“He is certainly a threat to Osbrant, but he fought for his people. Quilan and Osbrant have now become one root, yet they still harbor animosity toward each other. I have already informed His Majesty that in order to end this long conflict, I intend to pardon the Duke and take him as the Crown Princess Consort. There is no more time to delay, so move.”
The way he spat out each word, his face looking like someone pushed to the edge of a cliff with nothing left to lose, was so powerful that all the knights had to grip their sword hilts tightly once more. Now that the Crown Prince had begun threatening with his own life, the knights could no longer hold out. No matter how much they were following the Emperor’s orders to obstruct the Crown Prince, if the Crown Prince were to commit an irreversible act of self-harm, they too would not escape accountability. Still, it was a relief that they had prepared a countermeasure for such a case. The brown-haired knight facing Mikhail swallowed a dry sigh and spoke.
“Then, make your choice.”
“…”
Would the Crown Prince grasp the straw offered by the Emperor? Or would he protect the Duke’s honor? The man spoke, ignoring the situation behind him that was obvious even without looking.
“The only things Your Highness may bring into the Crown Prince’s Palace at your will are Your Highness’s possessions. If Your Highness must bring him into the palace to treat him, His Majesty’s message is that he shall be granted to you as Your Highness’s prisoner and palace slave.”
“…!”
Mikhail’s expression momentarily distorted with surprise and horror. Marcel was not as surprised, as he had expected this. That was why it would have been better to formally enthrone him as the Crown Princess Consort while he was still sane. Being obstructed in such an urgent situation where not a single moment could be wasted left the Crown Prince unable to retreat, yet unable to happily accept the Emperor’s proposal.
A prisoner and a palace slave. While it sounded like a hostage, the Duke was essentially a death row inmate. Everyone knew what it meant to appoint a death row inmate as a palace slave. While a nominal system of slavery remained in Osbrant, the actual number of people with slave status was small. Those who committed crimes and were performing forced labor or war criminals from enemy nations lived as slaves, but for those of noble status or higher, they were usually executed for the sake of their honor rather than being made slaves.
Everyone working in the Imperial Palace, even the lowest servants doing menial chores, were commoners. Not only the maids but even the attendants were recruited from the lower nobility or higher, and those working closely with the Imperial family were the siblings of noble heirs. Even Marcel, a member of the lower nobility, was sometimes looked down upon for his low origin despite doing the hardest work on the ground, so it went without saying for those residing within the castle. If the Crown Prince accepted the Emperor’s proposal, the Duke would lose all his status and become the lowest being in the Imperial Palace.
“If you receive him as a hostage, I will immediately head to the report and order the heart of the divine beast to be brought forth.”
Mikhail had to choose. Whether to let him breathe his last honorably as a nobleman, or to grant him the remainder of his life along with humiliation. Mikhail’s answer had been decided from the start.
During the long struggle at the entrance of the Crown Prince’s Palace, Hyeon wandered through hallucinations. Moments of suppressing himself, piled up since childhood, continued to flash by like a kaleidoscope. Memories of playing with children of unknown parentage and getting hit on the back of the hand for skipping academy, or the time his digestive system broke down to the point of collapse from a [Read on Read BL Novels]young age because he attended packed academy classes without time to fill his stomach at a convenience store, rose up in a dizzying blur.
Even when he finally got away from his parents by studying abroad, the suffocation remained the same. Whenever there was a chance, parents’ acquaintances or professors receiving research grants would visit and act familiar. Wherever he went, the label of the son who would become the heir to a famous corporation followed him. What if he had met Misha not as a complex enemy and a victim whose life was threatened, but in a perfectly ordinary relationship—like an ordinary international student and a local part-timer—in a world where he didn’t have to run until he was breathless and didn’t even want to live anymore?
Could they have met like ordinary people, without obsessing over the position of heir as his adoptive parents wanted, and simply returning everything he had enjoyed to the biological son who had been recovered? Could they have shared ordinary complaints or trivial worries like other people, sharing their daily lives and imagining a future together? Just as those impossible imaginary scenes wavered and vanished, Hyeon opened his eyes, feeling his chest become strangely light.
For some reason, breathing was no longer a struggle. His mind, which had been hazy as if covered in fog, was strangely clear. Strength surged into his arms, which had been limp and lifeless, making him feel as if he could move them easily. As if he had just woken from a long nightmare, the massive pressure and pain that had been weighing down the Duke’s entire body vanished in an instant. Hyeon snapped his eyes open in surprise. As he reflexively tried to bolt upright, a middle-aged man wearing glasses startled and stopped him.
“You must not move suddenly yet.”
Yet? Hyeon blinked, unable to process the situation. It was utterly baffling that the man spoke as if things would become okay after some more time passed. Looking around, he saw a room that was clean but devoid of any particular decoration. The peculiar thing was that there were no windows, and the lock on the door handle was installed on the outside, not the inside. His clothes were not the old, worn-out shirt he had worn in the basement, but something new. This is just like… Just as Hyeon recalled something, someone pulled the door open from the outside and entered.
“…”
It was a face he hadn’t seen in quite a while. Reflexively, Hyeon’s expression distorted, and he clenched his fists against the sheets.
“The Crown Prince is currently occupied, so I will explain briefly.”
Right, he looked like this. He hadn’t been very interested and they hadn’t had much reason to clash, so aside from the first time he visited the place of exile years ago, they had few opportunities to face each other. The man reflected in his eyes—which were no longer blurred or dark—looked as if he had aged ten years in those few years.
“First, I apologize for the discourtesy, as it was a situation where every second counted. Many things were handled summarily up until now, so you will have to cooperate busily for a while. I will provide detailed explanations according to the procedures at the appropriate times.”
Hyeon couldn’t hide his bewilderment at the man’s dry attitude, as if he were just playing a radio recording and only cared about saying what he had to say.
“What do you mean ‘handled summarily’?”
Hyeon couldn’t even tell if this situation was a dream or reality. That was because, since hiding in the basement, he had rarely been in his right mind. He spent most of his day lying on a bed made of straw that smelled of earth, fallen into a sleep like a corpse. When he was barely awake, his entire routine consisted of staggering through a short night walk to breathe the outside air so his skin wouldn’t fester. When he slept, woke, and fell back into a long slumber, memories of living as Lee Hyeon and the things he experienced as the Duke intersected and cluttered his mind.
The confusing dreams deceived Hyeon, changing their forms and scenes every time, but the ending was always the same. It was being held in the arms of someone he missed and resented at the same time. So, this might be a dream too. It was likely an imagination drawn by the tiny grain of lingering attachment in his heart, depicting what would happen if he chose to treat the curse with the other’s help. Hyeon tried to deny reality as he asked. However, the answer that returned was cold.
“His Highness used the national treasure of Osbrant to pardon your curse. The crown of thorns that had rooted and grown in your heart has disappeared, but severe malnutrition and muscle loss have not been recovered, so you will have to leave that to time.”
“What?”
As Hyeon gasped in disbelief, unable to believe what he had heard with his own ears, Marcel fell into a brief contemplation. It would be troublesome if he fainted from shock before hearing all the explanations. Marcel didn’t have time to wait for him. The Crown Prince didn’t have many confidants who could handle internal political turmoil, and Marcel had been overworking himself for quite some time, even cutting back on sleep. While he understood the shock the Duke would receive, he didn’t particularly want to be considerate of a traitor who had unsettled the Crown Prince and caused him to repeat irrational judgments.
“First, listen and then think. Regardless of how you perceive this situation, it is not a result of my will. There is no point in protesting to me; His Highness will visit as soon as he finishes his business, so I suggest you speak with the Crown Prince directly.”
The information that followed, pouring out like a burst dam, consisted of things Hyeon simply could not accept.
“You are currently a prisoner under the command of His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Hyeon frowned, intending to protest immediately, but Marcel cut him off once more.
“It would be better to listen to me until the end.”
Because there was something even more shocking remaining. Marcel swallowed a deep sigh inwardly. Others often told him how enviable it must be to pour all his assets into a hidden card that no one else bet on and monopolize the victory. In their eyes, he might look like a kingmaker sitting atop the young Crown Prince’s head and wielding power, but in reality, he was merely a man cleaning up the messes and taking the heat for a child who followed him around.
‘How did I get caught up in something like this…’
Marcel tried to ignore the throbbing headache and continued.
“You became a criminal by threatening the Crown Prince’s royal person, but His Highness used his authority to pardon that crime. Naturally, the ownership of a criminal who has received grace from the one who pardoned them passes to that person. Just as it is natural for a master to fill the stable with fodder and pull thorns from a hoof, His Majesty has permitted the use of the national treasures to cure your curse.”
“Ha.”
Hyeon raised a hand to cover his face, distorted with rage, and let out a hollow laugh. Calling him a prisoner was just a nice way of putting it; it meant he was a slave, no different from livestock in a stable. He had to die if told to die, and live if told to live. A state where a master could cut off his head on a whim without even a trial—a human, yet not a human, but an object to be bought and sold. It was a ridiculous situation, given that the investigator before him continued to use formal language and the title of ‘Lord.’ As Hyeon glared at Marcel as if daring him to prattle on, Marcel continued without changing his expression.
“Therefore, if you wish to be reinstated as a noble inheriting the honor of Transis, it would be best to cooperate sincerely. Bringing you into the palace as a prisoner was not what His Highness desired either. He is currently undergoing official procedures to restore your status to that of a noble.”
The Crown Prince didn’t want him to officially become a slave, was it? Hyeon snorted at the hollow excuse. Having been unable to eat properly, his cheeks and the areas under his eyes were sunken, and there was no trace of the handsome face he once had. Though the only man remaining in this room was wretched and shabby, the Duke, laughing like a madman, was terrifyingly seductive. If court painters were present, he wondered if they would try to make him a model for a demon who lures virtuous women to hell to corrupt them.
“Absurd. Once I am reinstated as a noble, do you mean to say you’ll just release the criminal who tried to kill me and let him run far away, as you say?”
When Hyeon finally asked back mockingly, Marcel took a [unauthorized copy]short breath, glanced at the [unauthorized copy]door behind him, and answered.
“Well. A Crown Princess Consort fleeing the palace is a story I’ve never heard in my entire life. That is all I have to say. You may hear the rest directly from your ‘Misha.’”
Despite his terrifyingly handsome face, looking at Marcel made his stomach churn. He had never once dared to consider him a romantic rival or thought of Mikhail as a puppet he could manipulate at will. However, the reason his mood soured every time he saw the Duke was that if it weren’t for him, the Crown Prince would have had no reason to force a path that everyone opposed.
If he hadn’t met him. The Crown Prince wouldn’t have needed to clash with the Emperor, nor would he have caused such a stir by insisting on taking a traitor—who was not only useless but unable to bring any power from his own family and was hated by the people of the entire country—as his Crown Princess Consort. Of course, the Duke probably wouldn’t be pleased with such a sudden, insulting rescue, nor could he have imagined that the squire of another person who happened to be serving him was the Crown Prince, regardless of how similar their faces were. The Duke wasn’t the only one who found this situation loathsome. Marcel felt the same.
“Ah. Since you have no authority to summon the Crown Prince, please wait; His Highness will arrive shortly.”
Marcel snapped bluntly and left the room where the Duke was staying, accompanied by the physician. Just then, he bumped right into the Crown Prince in the hallway, who was rushing over after hearing the news that the Duke had awakened. As they say, speak of the devil; the timing was perfect.
“Where is Lord Isaac?”
When Mikhail asked in an urgent voice, Marcel answered in a businesslike tone. This was the maximum courtesy he could show as a subordinate who was running all over the place to clean up this mess because they were in the same boat.
“He is safe. Fortunately, it seems no major aftereffects remain.”
Whether that was a blessing or a curse was uncertain. To be a slave whose life was saved by his enemy while his physical body remained intact might be closer to a mental misfortune. As Marcel bowed his head, hiding words that didn’t need to be said, Mikhail nodded lightly with a vacant expression and hurriedly pulled the door handle to enter the room where the Duke was.
As Mikhail opened the door and entered, the Duke was curled up in his thin body, head bowed with one hand on his forehead. Even though he had been told there were no major aftereffects, he looked so gaunt at a glance that it was impossible not to worry. As Mikhail rushed forward to support the Duke, Hyeon fiercely slapped his hand away.
“…!”
Mikhail froze as he met eyes that were like blue flames, glaring at him with intense hatred. He could neither reach out nor pull back. The sharp gaze burning with rage seemed to prove that he was alive, and Mikhail found himself feeling relieved unconsciously. Even though it was not something to be happy about. Mikhail bit his lip once and barely managed to speak.
“I’m sorry. There was no other way. That’s why from the beginning, I sent people to bring you here as the Crown Princess Consort…”
“Ha.”
Only the Duke’s faint sneer rolled across the floor carved from cold marble. Mikhail stubbornly did not stop making excuses. He felt that if he didn’t say something, he would end up saying the words the Duke would hate most right now: that he did it because he loved him.
“Due to procedures, I could not bring a traitor into [visit our site]the Crown Prince’s Palace, so I followed visit our siteHis Majesty’s orders.”
Hyeon let Mikhail’s words drift in and out of one ear, and as soon as the familiar voice ended, he snorted. It was a truly strange feeling. It had been over a month since he had faced Mikhail, but because he had seen his face so often in his dreams, it felt as if he were meeting someone he had seen just yesterday.
However, the Misha in his dreams and the Crown Prince in reality were far too different. Unlike Misha, who was lovely just to watch and made him feel sorry for not doing more for him, the Crown Prince ignited hatred in Hyeon’s heart instead of affection. It was even more loathsome because he looked exactly like the only person he had ever held dear. Affection and hatred mixed chaotically and spilled onto the floor.
“You certainly speak with a bold tongue. In the end, what you want isn’t to grant me what I desire, but simply to hold and possess me.”
As Hyeon sneered, holding back a rough, surging breath, Mikhail immediately shook his head in denial.
“No! I, I… I wanted Lord Isaac to survive. Because it was a curse… you received… because of me… I wanted to somehow… make it as if it never happened…”
Damn it. Even though it was a sentence he had refined and repeated hundreds, thousands of times in his head while waiting for the Duke to wake up, he didn’t know why his tongue was tied and his words were twisting. He thought he had become quite accustomed to maintaining the dignity and poise of a Crown Prince, yet the moment he stood before the Duke, his vocabulary reverted to that of a thirteen-year-old. Mikhail resented himself for only being able to speak this way, to the point where he wanted to cut out his own tongue if he could.
‘I have to clear up the misunderstanding.’ A brief thought flashed through his mind, but at the same time, a bitter sneer erupted. Misunderstanding? What misunderstanding? The voice that rang in his head was the Duke’s at first, but by the end of the sentence, it had changed to his own.
“Then, since I have survived, what do you intend to do now? Is your plan Read on Read BL Novelsultimately to keep me [visit our site]locked by your side? Or did you intend to let me [unauthorized copy]go, saying it’s a relief and a good thing that I survived?”
“…”
Mikhail could say nothing. Ha. The Duke again dropped a sneer without hiding it.
Human greed is naturally like an inexhaustible spring, knowing no satisfaction, and that was an inevitable fate even for the Crown Prince, who had been utterly altruistic. After achieving the desire to cure the Duke’s illness, subsequent desires continued to grow, squeezing through the narrow gaps. If he truly cared for the Duke, he should help him leave the palace, even if it meant his position as Crown Prince was threatened. That would be the right thing. However, fearing that the moment he let go, the man would vanish forever, Mikhail could not offer any rebuttal to the Duke’s words.
“…I am sorry.”
That was the only thing he could say. The current Hyeon was unstable. He feared that if he left him alone for even a moment where his hand could not reach, he would use every method available—whether jumping out the window or tearing the sheets to hang himself—to end the life he had worked so hard to preserve. Right now, it felt as if the Duke could not maintain his sanity unless he was under Mikhail’s influence. Thus, Mikhail gave up on trying to elaborate with excuses and bowed his head, even though he knew clearly that this was not the right answer.
Hyeon glared at the silent Mikhail. He no longer wanted to hear whatever excuses were made. He needed a catalyst now. Something that would make him accept the person before him as someone completely different from Misha.
Looking at him, he felt as if the happy moments would return, blurring his vision. Hyeon’s mind became clear enough to know what he needed. Unfortunately, it was after he had broken to the point where he no longer cared that such an act would deeply wound him. Hyeon laughed, shoulders trembling like a madman, then raised his head and looked at Mikhail.
“Just be honest. You simply want to insult, possess, and conquer me as a man.”
At Hyeon’s certain words, Mikhail immediately denied it.
“That’s not true! I have never felt that way.”
It was a lie to say he had never once viewed him as an object of such desire, but he had never once touched him with selfish intent. It was the same now. All Mikhail desired was the Duke’s survival; he had never even imagined taking him as a Crown Princess Consort in that sense. Partly because the situation didn’t allow it, but also because the Duke’s body had become so frail over the last year or two that he could not bring himself to look at him with such eyes. Therefore, he was satisfied with remaining as his closest friend. While it wasn’t that he had never imbued the title of Crown Princess Consort with any meaning, he had absolutely never intended any impure acts. Hyeon sneered at Mikhail’s answer.
“Liar.”
And in that moment, unlike someone who had been dying, Hyeon pulled Mikhail toward him with a powerful grip. Mikhail, unable to shake off the touch for fear that Hyeon might get hurt, was dragged along and collapsed onto the bed. At that moment, Hyeon flipped the center of gravity and pinned Mikhail down on the bed. It was surprising that such strength remained in those gaunt arms. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he straddled the young Alpha’s firm thighs. Pressed by the dull weight, the neatly arranged genitals atop the well-trained muscular legs began to be stimulated.
“I really… have… not…”
Then, Hyeon rubbed his center more explicitly, applying more weight. Mikhail’s face instantly flushed bright red at the fact that the owner of the weight pressing precariously against his genitals was the Duke. ‘I have to push him away. I mustn’t get excited. Please.’ Mikhail closed his eyes tightly, desperately struggling not to react to the friction the Duke provided.
“You say you haven’t? Stop playing unauthorized copyvisit our sitethe hypocrite and be honest. stolen contentOnly then can I hate you completely.”
The hot breath touching his sweat-dampened skin was unbearably stimulating. What would happen if he just stayed still? Mikhail became tense with an unconscious expectation. It was so ecstatic yet desperate that he wanted to believe it was a dream. The Duke does not love him. He is simply using his body as a means of revenge. Because he knows that Mikhail harbored feelings for him as a man. He wanted to accept the idea that the reason his life was saved was solely to ravage him and conquer him as a possession. To prove that such a guess was wrong, Mikhail had to endure it no matter what. He had to endure so that the Duke would believe him. That he had not dared to be greedy for him in that sense.
“Ugh…”
As Mikhail held his breath, turned his head, and broke into a cold sweat, Hyeon let out a mocking snort. Ah. Since reuniting with the Duke at seventeen, Mikhail had never once thought of him as having a mean or vile impression. But now, that thin and gaunt face looked so barbaric and primal that he had to close his eyes tightly to avoid falling for his fatal temptation. As Mikhail swallowed his breath, biting his lip, Hyeon slowly began to move his hips. At the dull volume moving up and down over the thick skin, Mikhail clenched his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood. Every time the Duke rotated his hips, the sunken part beneath the groin lightly tightened and released over the genitals.
“Lord Isaac, please, stop…! Please stop.”
Mikhail held his breath again, trying to push him away by lifting his body. Hyeon looked down at Mikhail’s trembling body and let out another hollow laugh. ‘Why? Isn’t this what you wanted?’ The sentence that failed to escape Hyeon’s lips was as fishy as the taste of blood emanating from his parched skin. To prevent Mikhail from fleeing further or enduring by holding his breath, Hyeon blocked his lips with his own. As expected, the dry lips tasted of iron. It was a kiss that was neither romantic nor lovely. Reflexively, Mikhail put strength into the hands gripping Hyeon’s arms to push him away. However, Hyeon was faster in stripping off his upper garment with both arms. Finally, Hyeon lay his body atop the exposed bare chest. The strength in Mikhail’s hands, which had tried to push Hyeon down, began to fade.
Because the unrequited love he had cherished since the age of seventeen had not come true, his mind went blank at the first kiss he had never experienced until he was twenty. This wasn’t how he wanted to entwine tongues with him. He had wanted to confess the feelings he had harbored for so long in a gentle and lovely voice, plead to spend the rest of his life for him, and then, if the Duke dared to permit it, achieve that moment. Instead, it had arrived this mercilessly. The belated first kiss tasted terribly bitter and disgusting.
“Phew, Lord, please…!”
Hyeon paid no heed to the words Mikhail cried out like a plea after finally separating their lips. Instead, straddling that body, he roughly undid Mikhail’s buckle, pulled the belt away and threw it Read on Read BL Novelsto the floor, and pulled [unauthorized copy]down the trousers to reveal the underwear. A fully swollen penis was trapped tightly beneath a single thin layer of fabric. Without a moment’s hesitation, Hyeon gripped Mikhail’s penis. Although it was from another Alpha, such physiological disgust was not important right now. Even though it Read on Read BL Novelswas still slightly soft as it hadn’t fully erect, the massive pillar, too large to fit in one hand, slid within Hyeon’s grip.
“Ha, ugh…”
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