Something inside me twisted—a deep, primal instinct flaring up at the way she looked at me. That smug expression, the way she spoke, as if she had just seized the upper hand. My pride burned at the edges, then finally snapped the moment her mocking tone sliced through the air.
’What the hell…’
I glanced around, catching the subtle shifts in everyone’s expressions. Her words had landed with precision, drawing attention to the flustered look on my face. But she had misunderstood the reason entirely.
I wasn’t embarrassed because she had kissed me.
Why would I be?
She was beautiful. And being kissed by a beautiful woman wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
Yet, the heat in my chest coiled tighter, hotter.
The instant she tried to pull away, I moved.
Before she could slip beyond reach, my arm locked around her waist, drawing her back in. The silk of her dress was cool beneath my fingers, smooth and delicate. My other hand trailed along her spine, moving slowly, deliberately, before stopping at the curve of her ass. A firm press held her still, the warmth of her body aligning with mine.
’!’
"Eh?" Her breath caught.
I saw it in her eyes—the slight flicker of hesitation. She could have dodged. Even at this distance, even in the time it took for my hands to move, she could have avoided this. But she didn’t. Was it the weight of the moment? The tension we both knew had been building? Or perhaps...guilt?
She had made the first move.
Now, it was my turn.
I pressed my lips against hers. But this time, it wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t a test. It was deep, raw, and real.
The tables had turned.
She had taken the first step.
But I would take the next.
"Mmmf—!?"
Her sapphire eyes widened, crystalline pools reflecting the sudden shift in power. The gasps, the murmurs, the background noise of the world around us all faded into nothing. Right now, in this moment, there was only her—and the intoxicating taste of her lips.
Lips weren’t supposed to have a flavor of their own.
Flesh was just flesh.
This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.
The taste should have been dictated by the subtle hints of skin, sweat, or the faint trace of whatever she had eaten last.
But hers...
Hers were like ripe peaches, sweet and soft, yet with a subtle, natural taste that wasn’t artificial.
It was unique—undeniably her.
A few heartbeats passed, and then my tongue pressed into hers, deepening the kiss.
My fingers flexed, gripping the soft flesh of her spine, the generous curve of her rear—both firm yet yielding beneath my touch, like clouds I could mold beneath my hands.
Possessively, I pulled her closer, letting the warmth of her body mold into mine.
And in that moment, I lost myself.
There was no hesitation left.
There was something between us—undeniable, electric, a spark that had just ignited into an unrelenting fire.
And I wanted to drown in it.
.
.
.
.
.
"I must say, Young Master Kyle is truly bold."
Seated at the grand banquet, a noblewoman covered her lips with her hand, glancing toward the others at the table. She couldn’t help but recall the passionate moment from just an hour ago. With the entire day left for the wedding celebrations, her eyes drifted to the other side of the table, where several men were seated—including the man at the center of their conversation.
"Indeed, Princess, he was quite bold. And I must say, you lost this time, hahaha!"
Another noblewoman giggled, followed by laughter from others who had also been watching the scene unfold earlier. Their playful words filled the air as they tried to lighten the mood, taking advantage of the festivities to establish some form of friendly connection with Princess Aleriana.
Ordinarily, noblewomen of their status wouldn’t even be allowed to attend a high-ranking wedding like this. Their lower positions in the aristocracy often made them subjects of ridicule rather than guests, leading many to avoid such events altogether.
But things were different with Princess Aleriana. She lacked any real backing, and her current situation was far from strong. Many of them believed she would appreciate their efforts to befriend her, mistaking her composed demeanor as acceptance.
"You all talk too much."
’!?’
A sharp voice cut through their chatter.
Princess Aleriana, seated at the head of the table, fixed them with a cold glare. The noblewomen flinched, their laughter dying instantly as they lowered their heads, sensing the unmistakable chill in her words.
Their hands clenched the fabric of their dresses as realization sank in—she was exactly as the rumors described.
’He really kissed me.’
Seated in silence, Aleriana’s gaze flickered toward the men’s table, where Kyle sat at the head, calmly eating. The memory of his possessive kiss in front of everyone replayed in her mind.
She had taken the initiative.
Not because she loved him—she barely knew him.
But after their brief conversation, something inside her stirred when she saw him look towards everyone except her—the bride.
A bitter, unexplainable jealousy. So, she acted on impulse.
She wanted to fluster him, to create a fleeting moment of happiness for herself—one that would soon be overshadowed by sorrow, knowing Kyle’s death was inevitable.
She was caught between her thoughts and the dark future ahead.
She knew what love could do to a person.
It was a curse, driving people to madness and stealing everything they could have achieved without it.
Just like her mother.
A woman once hailed as one of the strongest warriors in the kingdom, who sacrificed everything to help the king rise to power—only to die heartbroken over a man who never loved her back.
Aleriana despised love for that reason.
’Has he really managed to convince this woman?’
Tearing her gaze away from the men’s table, she looked toward the head of the women’s table, where a regal figure sat in silence.
Across the garden, a red-robed woman delicately picked at her food with chopsticks, her every movement exuding elegance and composure. But Aleriana felt the weight of an unspoken rivalry forming between them.
The Empress Dowager.
Even now, the memory of her hostility toward Aleriana’s mother resurfaced. This woman had never wasted an opportunity to mock her mother, belittling her humble origins and calling her low-blooded.
Yet, her mother had always brushed it off with a smile, insisting they were friends, that the words were merely playful jests.
But Aleriana knew the truth.
Those so-called "jokes" had fueled years of scorn and humiliation for her mother. And now, here this woman was—attending the wedding, seated in the very hall her mother once dreamed of standing in as an equal.
Aleriana had always seen her mother as someone who lived in a world of illusions—blindly believing in love and friendship, never realizing that between rivals, only one could survive. And now, all that remained of her were empty principles and a dying promise Aleriana had sworn to fulfill…
Even if it meant making a choice that could change everything.
// Do you really want to kill him? //
’!?!’
Suddenly, a telepathic voice rang in her ears as her eyes narrowed while looking towards the red-veiled woman. Her clear intention to convey a message while taking a hearty meal made Aleriana realize that this woman was once again going to intervene, just like last time when she forced her—a small 10-year-old child—to sell her mother’s last memory—the northern palace—to her by using all methods as extreme as attempting assassination.
’Mind your own business’