To My Sweet Villain

“It was Delmon, my lord.”

After closing the window, Lannister set down a cigarette and a glass of alcohol in front of Jurgen after he had finished taking a bath.

Dressed lazily in a bluish silk gown, he smirked with a somewhat weary expression. It was a cold smile.

“Look at this freshly hatched chick.” [t1v: he also saying like, “Look at this insolent kid/bastard]

“Seeing as he knew the exact route, it didn’t seem like he had been there just once or twice.”

Lannister’s green eyes lingered with a familiar strangeness. 

Lannister was not a Sentinel, but he was a swordmaster. That was why he had keen senses and cultivated his hearing and eyesight until they were several times better than others.

“Let it be for now. After all, Dahlia will come to this place on her own two feet anyway. At that time, even the impudent chick won’t be able to sneak around. You did a good job today, get some rest.”

“Yes, rest well master.”

After taking a sip of alcohol, Jurgen smirked as he looked at the marriage contract he had brought from the count’s family. Then, when asked to increase the number of items as much as possible, Dahlia began to write down all kinds of conditions like someone who seized a once in a lifetime opportunity.

About 20 or so?

Among them, there were clauses related to food. For example, he laughed out loud when she wrote down that she would only eat vegetables and salad once a day.

‘My dream is… . to completely remove my powers as a guide. Please cooperate. I’ll cooperate with you until the power goes away.’

‘Do you think it’s possible?’

‘Yes, I’ll figure out how to do it in 5 years. And one more thing. I don’t love you. Just because we’ll be formally related doesn’t mean I intend to live completely ignorant of love. I am a woman too. If someone who I am willing to give my soul for appears I will ask for a divorce from you.’

Love. The face that spewed empty words about disquieting emotions without any feeling was terribly beautiful and lovely.

That would never happen.

There is no existence in this world worth giving up one’s soul for. For a moment, he was tempted to tell her that love was only a dressed-up sweet excuse for the poor souls who had fallen into delusional temptations.

He wondered what it would be like to stare at her cheeky face after getting his full of laughter.

“I’m going crazy… .”

Under the silk robe, swollen tautly flesh lifted the thin gown. Previously, it was a troublesome instinct and desire that was only uncomfortable, but not now.

When he recalled the face panting and weeping beneath him, his seed erupted without him having to use his hands.

The color of the cloth tented up by his erection grew darker and wet. Yet, on the other hand, his expression leaning on his hand with his elbow resting on the desk, was strangely calm.

Jurgen slowly swept back his flowing hair and lit his cigarette. As he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head, smoke rose thinly toward the ceiling.

‘Will we do the Kiss of Oath?’

Dahlia Von Klose. With her signature written next to his name, she asked with clear, wide eyes. Such a cute woman. Why so elegant and proud? He couldn’t understand why she was so attached to being the Countess’s daughter when it was so apparent that they didn’t share a single drop of blood.

‘We have to, the Kiss of Oath.’

‘… have to.’

Her standing boldly in front of him without fear, he had to hold back his rising desire while calmly meeting her eyes. It was similar to a stabbing pain ripping through his stomach. 

Remembering her tongue and  those lips of hers…. to his astonishment, he found his hand reaching his waist. When she profanely licked her lower lip…  his free hand grabbed his shirt and touched his belt.

Fuck… .

He let out a small curse and tilted his head back, clutching the bumpy, bulging cock. He only barely touched it, but his glandular fluids juice dripped and seeped between his fingers.

His muscular ass strained with power when he gently skimmed up his length using his precum as a lubricant. He tightened his grip around his genitals as he let out a heated breath and violent desires poured out like a shower. It ran and flowed down from the top of his head to his shoulders and chest and collected around his lower body.

The memory of defiling the kiss of a sacred oath, shoving his red tongue between her soft, plump lips, spurred him.

“Ugh… .”

After pouring out his white cum, he stretched out his sticky hands.

He laughed at the drowsiness that ran from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He could not guarantee how long he would be satisfied with this lukewarm pleasure. But he didn’t want to rush it.

He was happy that the new Dahlia appeared in his life that lasted like an eternity. He had a premonition that he could see a proper end this time. He felt he could now stand proudly in the face of death without regret.

He stretched out his wet hand and extinguished his cigarette with his other hand.

Tomorrow the temple will make a move.

And the high priest will go to the crown prince and say,

Second Sun of the Empire, the gods have not allowed arrogance. So undo the wrongs and be blessed under the light of Icaruso.

While the high priest holds the Crown Prince’s eyes, other priests will visit the count’s house and knock on the door.

We have come to retrieve God’s grace, Lady Dahlia.

He smiled like a madman and slowly opened his eyes. Jurgen’s pupils stared at the ceiling painting depicting the celestial world, and heat gradually dwelled in them.

“Who dares… . take it back.”

The blood-red eyes moved and pointed to the tips of his fingers. The red light from his fingertips dripped down toward the floor. The widely spread red light gathered into one, and a form began to congeal like a slime made of red light.

Jurgen stared calmly at the image.

“What cute brazen chicks.”

A tickling chirping spread from the light that had begun to thicken at a certain speed as if he understood his words.

The bird had a round and chubby body with an exceptionally small beak. A hunting bird with short, yellow feathers under his chin flew up and landed on his finger.

Jurgen raised his finger and faced the red-eyed one.

“Bring your master. Get a name too.”

Then, a bird smaller than his fist tilted his thumb-nail-sized head and flew up.

It cried as it flew out the window and disappeared. Only then did Jurgen stand up and wipe his hands on his towel.

Stripping off his wet robe that stuck to him like a second skin, he climbed onto the bed and buried himself in the soft sheets. The dice were thrown on a fairly large board.

Whether it was a pawn or a dice, it may be the hand throwing the dice, but he closed his eyes, feeling a wonderful and great fatigue after a long time.

When he opened his eyes, he suppressed the laughter that leaked out, hoping the owner he brought to him would be by his side.