The morning sun cast a pale glow over the Palace, the soft light giving the world an eerie stillness.
A light-cold wind swept through, ruffling the banners and sending a chill down the spines of those gathered.
Lucian stood unmoving near the royal carriages, his white hair flowing down his back like silk, catching the light in an almost ethereal way.
Drake slowly stepped out, his golden hair shining in the early light.
His presence, though regal, was met with silence.
His green eyes gleamed as he caught sight of Lucian standing in the distance, his lips curling into a smirk as he sauntered over, a swagger in his step.
“Ah, I was wondering why the wind was howling today,” Drake said, his voice light with mockery, “turns out it was just you.”
Lucian barely glanced at him, the cold smile never leaving his face, “and here I thought it was the stench of desperation blowing in from your direction.”
Drake’s smirk didn’t falter, though a flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes, “always so serious, brother. Lighten up. This is a beautiful morning, isn’t it? Perfect for a little outing.”
Lucian’s gaze turned darker, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “outing? Or do you mean following me around like a loyal dog, Drake? Trying to find scraps to cling to?”
Drake chuckled softly, waving a hand dismissively, “come now, Lucian. No need to be so bitter. I was simply enjoying the sights.”
His grin widened. “Though I must say, with all this preparation, I thought something important might be happening. Now I see it’s just… you.”
Lucian’s smile grew sharper, “it’s always amusing how you manage to delude yourself into thinking your presence means anything at all.”
Before Drake could retort, the sound of footsteps on stone interrupted them.
Princess Eloise stepped down from her carriage, and the world seemed to pause.
Her golden hair fell in soft waves down her back, glowing in the pale morning light like spun gold.
She wore a deep crimson dress that clung to her mature figure in all the right places, accentuating the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts.
The neckline dipped just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of her cleavage, and a slit ran high up her thigh, exposing smooth, pale skin with each step.
The soft scent of jasmine wafted through the air as she approached, her gaze flicking between the two men.
Lucian’s eyes darkened with raw, unbridled lust the moment she came into view.
His gaze roamed her body unapologetically, drinking in every detail — the soft curve of her hips, the subtle bounce of her breasts as she moved, the way her dress hugged her every contour.
His d!ck stirred, memories of their last encounter flooding his mind — the taste of her p*ssy, the way her breath hitched when he’d had tasted her, making her writhing in pleasure.
Eloise could feel Lucian’s eyes on her, his intense gaze burning into her skin.
A heat spread through her body, her pulse quickening under the weight of his desire.
Her breath caught in her throat, and a soft, almost imperceptible shudder ran through her as a subtle warmth pooled between her thighs.
The power he seemed to have over her — just with a look — made her both nervous and excited, her body betraying her mind.
“Are you two at it again?” she asked, her voice light but with a hint of impatience, as if she had come to expect their constant squabbles.
Lucian’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smile, “just a bit of brotherly banter, aunt.”
Drake, still simmering from Lucian’s earlier remarks, forced a smile, his attention shifting to Eloise.
“Ah, aunt Eloise,” he said smoothly, his voice taking on a charming lilt, “we were just discussing the beauty of the morning. Perhaps you’d like to accompany us?”
Eloise smiled, but there was a hint of something sharper in her eyes as she looked at Drake.
“Dear Drake,” she said, her voice dripping with sweet sarcasm, “weren’t you here to enjoy the scenery? Why don’t you take your time and… soak it all in?”
Drake’s smile froze, his jaw tightening imperceptibly.
Lucian stifled a chuckle, enjoying the clear rejection Eloise had delivered with such poise.
Lucian’s gaze returned to Eloise, his eyes following the seductive sway of her hips as she moved closer.
She turned to face him, her lips curving into a subtle, knowing smile as she caught the way his eyes trailed over her body.
She lingered for a moment, her eyes meeting his, and Lucian could see the faint blush that crept up her neck, the way her chest rose and fell just a little faster.
“Lucian,” she said, her voice low and sultry, “join me. There’s something we need to discuss… privately.”
Lucian’s heart quickened at the invitation, his gaze still locked on the perfect curve of her hips as she turned toward her carriage.
He followed, his footsteps deliberate, eyes still tracing the outline of her voluptuous figure.
Drake’s voice cut in once more, a trace of desperation behind his words, “may I join as well, aunt?”
Eloise didn’t even turn to look at him, “Drake, darling,” she said, her tone dismissive yet sweet. “You’re here to sightsee, remember? I wouldn’t want to keep you from the views.”
Drake’s face twisted with barely concealed rage as he watched Lucian approach the carriage.
Lucian didn’t even look back, his focus entirely on Eloise as the guard opened the carriage door for him.
With a final smirk, Lucian climbed in, the door closing with a solid click behind him.
Drake’s green eyes burned with hatred as he stared after the departing carriage, his fists clenched at his sides.
His lips curled into a twisted smile, his eyes darting toward the two guards standing motionless by his own chariot.
Unlike the other royal guards, these two stood unnaturally still, their faces devoid of expression, their eyes empty and lifeless — The Death Guards. His ace.
Drake’s smile grew darker. He would wait. This game had only just begun, and soon enough, he would have his turn.
…
Inside the chariot,
The interior of the carriage was intimate, lavishly appointed with plush velvet seats, deep burgundy in color, and rich golden embroidery running along the edges.
Crystal windows adorned the sides, but as the carriage began to move, the window shades slowly descended, dimming the light and sealing off the outside world, cocooning them in a private, luxurious space.
The air inside was heavy with the scent of polished wood and the subtle hint of perfume — jasmine, the same as Eloise’s, intoxicating and heady.
Lucian leaned back, his crimson eyes locked onto Eloise as she moved with effortless grace, settling into her seat across from him.
Her gown, a deep shade of red that mirrored the wine she reached for, flowed elegantly over her curvaceous figure.
The delicate lace trim of her neckline teased at the soft skin beneath, offering him glimpses of her creamy cleavage.
His gaze followed the lacework, trailing down the bodice, lingering on the slit of her gown that exposed her shapely thigh — smooth, creamy, pale, and utterly tempting.
Eloise, aware of his eyes on her, didn’t rush.
She poured the wine with deliberate care, her delicate fingers cradling the bottle with an elegance that only heightened her allure.
“You were quite bold that day, weren’t you?” she said softly, her voice a low purr as she filled two glasses.
With an elegant grace, she extended one glass to Lucian, her fingers brushing lightly against his as he accepted it.
His gaze remained fixed on her, unblinking, intense.
He watched her every move — the way her lips curled into a sly smile, the subtle rise and fall of her chest beneath the intricate lace of her gown — as he took a slow sip of the wine.
The rich, velvety taste of the wine spread across his tongue, but his focus was entirely on her.
“What exactly are you referring to, aunt?” he asked, his tone feigning innocence, though the amusement dancing in his crimson eyes was unmistakable.
Eloise leaned back, her gaze sharpening as she studied him.
Eloise didn’t break the eye contact as her full lips parted in a playful smirk, and she took a languid sip from her own glass before setting it aside.
Eloise’s lips curved into a sultry smile, her voice soft but laden with teasing lust, “not only did you bury your face between my legs under that desk and eat me out,” she began, her tone sending a shiver through the dimly lit carriage, “but you even had the audacity to use my feet to relieve your own… ‘filthy desires’.”
Her eyes glinted with playful mischief, reveling in the memory of their heated encounter.
She took a slow sip of wine, savoring the taste as if it brought back the sensations of that forbidden moment, “that was rather daring. I never knew you had it in you.”
Lucian couldn’t help but smile devilishly; her tone, the way she said it, only stoked the fire inside him — though his gaze flickered to the slit in her gown once more, revealing more of her soft, creamy skin.
His c*ck twitched in his pants, memories of that night flashing vividly in his mind — the taste of her on his tongue, the softness of her feet.
He drank deeply from his wine, savoring the way the liquid burned down his throat, a mirror to the fire stirring inside him.
“That was… quite the heated moment, aunt,” Lucian’s voice dripped with dark desire, his gaze slowly trailing up her body.
His eyes gleamed with wicked amusement, lingering on the curves of her breasts and the bare skin exposed by the slit in her gown.
“And if I recall currently, you were the one who slid your legs around me, practically begging to finish what we started. You weren’t exactly shy about using them to get what you wanted.”
Eloise’s smile deepened, wicked and knowing.
She let her fingers trace the edge of her neckline, teasing the soft skin just below.
“Oh, did I!?” she mused, her voice thick with sensuality, “hmmm, perhaps my legs had found something worth savoring… something I couldn’t resist.”
Her fingers began to trace the neckline of her gown, slowly, teasingly.
Lucian’s eyes followed the movement, captivated by the way her fingers brushed against her own soft skin, gliding down the slope of her chest and into the deep valley between her motherly breasts.
He could see the slight tremor in her hand, the way her breath hitched, and it sent a thrill through him.
Her fingers paused just above the swell of her breasts, lingering, teasing.
She looked up at him through her lashes, her breath shallow, her body language betraying the growing heat between them.
Lucian’s pulse quickened, his c*ck straining against his pants as the sight of her like this — on the edge of losing control — fueled his lust more.
“I never thought my naive little nephew would have so much hidden skill,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
Her fingers traced the curve of her ample breast, brushing against the lace that barely contained her, “perhaps… you wouldn’t mind showing me again?”