Chapter 10.9

In this place lit only by faint moonlight, Karl’s features were mysteriously attractive. His golden eyes, glowing softly like the full moon, were mesmerizing, and even his firmly closed lips matched the dreamy atmosphere.

For a moment, the Tyrant’s face, standing out in the darkness like the god of night, was captivating. There was a chilling beauty to him, as if one should hand over a reaper’s crescent blade to him.

‘Wow… He’s sensual every time I see him.’

No matter how she thought about it, Syria was definitely a bit of a face-lover. The space was so beautiful it felt unreal. Even in such a place, the Tyrant’s face looked more surreal than anything, and at that moment, it felt as if only the two of them existed in the world.

While she was lost, admiring his beauty, the Tyrant’s lips finally parted.

“…Your belly’s showing.”

“That’s right, my belly… Huh?”

Syria, who had been about to agree absentmindedly, was stunned by the offhand, mood-breaking comment and opened her eyes wide. Out of nowhere, he said her belly was sticking out. He’d acted so serious, as if he was about to discuss something important, but all he said was that she’d gained weight. Of course she was dumbfounded.

Suddenly, Melanie’s nagging from the past few days echoed in her ears.

‘You’ve gained so much weight that none of your clothes fit.’

At the time, Syria had thought Melanie was exaggerating with her zombie-level standards, but now, even the Emperor’s indifferent eyes noticed it? Embarrassment washed over her, heating her face more than the chilly wind.

“…Is it that obvious?”

“…It seems so.”

She asked, braving her shame, but the Emperor looked even more uncertain, as if he was flustered or guilty, and then, gradually…

Karl leaned against the slanted wall in the back and sat down. Then, without knowing what to do, he wrapped his arms around Syria’s waist and sat her on his lap. Syria, suddenly seated on the Tyrant’s thigh, was startled.

‘This is… a really embarrassing position.’

It was too awkward a spot for her to sit demurely.

The Emperor’s arm around her shoulders seemed to drive away the cold air. His sturdy forearm held her tight, but strangely, it didn’t feel uncomfortable or unpleasant. Perhaps her impression of the Tyrant had changed; his intimidating presence and blunt voice no longer scared her.

“I’ll take responsibility.”

His voice was like the cold wind. Syria couldn’t see the Emperor’s face as he asked quietly. She tried to lift her head to see him, but his chin pressed heavily on her crown, making it impossible.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Your belly.”

“Huh…? Are you saying you’ll make me diet since I gained weight?”

She couldn’t understand why he was saying this.

“…Diet? I mean, I’ll take responsibility since you’re carrying a child.”

“What?! A child?!”

As he gently rubbed his chin against her head, Syria couldn’t help but cry out. She jerked her head up, pushing his chin away, and her golden eyes widened.

“Your Majesty, wh-who… who’s carrying a ch-child?”

Her voice trembled so much she could barely speak.

‘So, he thinks I’m pregnant, and he got so upset because I received a proposal from another man?’

She’d never seen this side of the Tyrant before.

“Isn’t that so?”

“It’s not.”

She hadn’t meant to, but the reason she’d always used contraception with men was because she had something to rely on. She wasn’t planning to get married, so she couldn’t have a child. Ever since her first experience, she’d consistently brewed herbal tea with contraceptive effects.

Any woman who’d received s*x education in Korea would know that healthy s*xual habits were basic. That was how Syria had lived, even before she’d gained experience.

‘Preziah used to give Syria that in the novel…’

She remembered that well. Preziah had done it with ill intent, but the tea was known among older noblewomen for cooling the womb and preventing pregnancy.

Of course, it wasn’t perfect contraception, but it was safe and didn’t harm the body—it just made the environment less favorable for conception.

“Gallion!”

“…?”

The Emperor called his aide’s name in a biting tone.

As Syria explained that he’d misunderstood, the Emperor’s expression, which should have cleared, instead grew a bit downcast. He seemed bitter…

Feeling awkward about his misunderstanding, Syria tried to get up, but the hand around her waist pulled her back, making her fall onto the Emperor’s lap.

“Ow.”

“Then let’s make one tonight!”

“Huh? No… I told you, it won’t happen.”

As if he’d reached some realization, the Emperor exclaimed. His arm, which had been holding her, slipped under her knees. The Tyrant’s cold touch brushed her inner thigh, and whether from the cold clothes or his icy fingers, Syria shivered.

“Haa…”

Karl, seeing her reaction, boldly pulled aside her undergarments. The taut string made a snapping sound as it gave way. It was clear the Tyrant’s strength had nearly torn them apart.

The Tyrant, who had seemed a bit subdued moments ago, suddenly invaded her space. He slipped his finger into the crack he’d quickly found, moving it swiftly up and down, and lewd wet sounds escaped.

“Haa…! Your Majesty, h-here?”

She grabbed his unmoving wrist, but of course, she couldn’t overpower him. Karl didn’t stop at her desperate pleas. The slick fl*id already soaked up to his second knuckle.

“Haa… haa…”

Even though it was the highest rooftop, there were guards patrolling nearby. Syria covered her mouth with one hand to stifle her m*ans. She didn’t want anyone to discover what she was doing with the Emperor.

But Karl pulled her hand down. Sitting crouched, legs spread, with her hands restrained, she felt utterly humiliated.

She tried to close her knees, but the Tyrant wouldn’t allow it. He hooked his knees behind hers and spread her legs wide. Her dress rode up to her belly, exposing her most private part.

“Did you think you could marry another man while coming undone in my hand like this?”

Karl growled, nibbling her earlobe. He licked around her ear, then slipped his tongue inside.

“Haa…!”

His hot breath swam inside her ear, making her body heat up again.

‘Why is he doing this…’

Did he have to talk about this in such a way? Syria wondered if he’d chosen this spot precisely because no one was around.

Karl licked her ear as if it were dirty. He sucked on each delicate bone inside, while his fingers continued to tease her.

“Haa… haa…”

As her body heated up, Syria parted her lips and exhaled ragged breaths.

Karl let go of her hand and started to play with her lips using his fingers. He traced her lower lip with his index and middle fingers, teasing but not quite invading. His fingers warmed from her hot breath, and he rubbed her moist saliva inside her lips. Then, as if about to cross a threshold, he brushed her lower teeth and slipped inside.

Startled by the intrusion, her tongue tried to push his finger out, but Karl’s cold voice came.

“Bite.”

At his command, Syria panted and took the Tyrant’s fingers into her mouth. She sucked on his thick fingers, making loud noises as her cheeks hollowed.

Karl praised her, rubbing his lips against her cheek. As she rolled his fingernails with her tongue, his kisses grew more intense. His soft lips traveled down from her cheek to her pale neck.

“Hmm…”

Syria tilted her head to the left, exposing her neck to the Emperor’s lips. He licked and sucked at her skin, making her head tilt further back.

The Emperor withdrew his fingers and moved down her opposite neckline, grabbing and shaking her br*asts. With her off-shoulder dress, one squeeze made her pink n*pple pop above her br*ast line.

“So you thought of marriage while sucking on what’s mine, didn’t you?”

The Emperor was expressing his displeasure at her engagement. His thick fingers pressed her tongue, threatening to go past the root.

‘He’s the one who told me to do it…’

She felt wronged. He’d demanded a breakup, then acted menacing, and now he glared at her for considering marriage.

Bathed in moonlight in the pitch-black night, Syria felt like a victim offering her neck to a vampire. Karl, still moving his finger inside her, made her body tremble.

“Haa…!”

Even though it wasn’t a thick object, his rough fingers were thick and bony, and she could feel the knuckles as they entered. His middle finger dug deep, while his thumb persistently teased her sensitive spot.

“Haa… p-please… take it out…”

His right thumb stimulated her cl*toris, while his left thumb twisted her protruding n*pple. His hot lips remained attached to her neck. Syria’s slender body, curled up awkwardly, was completely trapped within the Tyrant’s large frame.

Whenever the cool wind tickled her skin, Karl’s hot breath heated her neck.

“Haa… Your Majesty, it’s… too much…”

His hot lips melted the cold like ice, sticking to every pulse point, raising her temperature. If the wind cooled her, his lips melted her again.

The sticky breath, mixed with pleasure, sent her into a daze. One side was being sucked, the other was being teased—her mind was spinning.

“Your Majesty…”

“To think you’d marry another man while coming undone just from my fingers…”

The Tyrant’s hands worked her inner walls as if he was punishing her. Like waking a sleeping cat, he pressed and teased her sensitive flesh.

“I’ll feed you more.”

The Emperor slipped both his index and ring fingers inside, making Syria’s shoulders tremble as she sat in his embrace. He didn’t add them one by one, but pushed two in at once.