“Do you want me to say it again? Come here to me.”
Inside the Demon King’s hall.
Landis’s eyes held a hint of coldness, her tone both reproachful and commanding, leaving no room for refusal.
Her sultry gaze like silk, she smiled teasingly at Motsi, who stood below the dais, face flushed with shame and anger.
“You! Can’t you wait until next time?”
That guy! He clearly knew his sister was right here, yet still wanted to toy with me! Does he really want to disgrace me completely in front of my sister?
If Windsor sees me being made a fool of like this, my authority as the clan leader in her eyes will be utterly shattered.
Motsi secretly glanced sideways at Windsor behind her.
Her expression remained calm and unreadable, showing no emotion.
“But I’m terribly lonely right now. If my beloved doesn’t want to, then I’ll just have to bring her sister along.”
“You!!”
Motsi was shocked and hurriedly stepped in front of Windsor.
This guy definitely had designs on Windsor!
No way, I can’t let this old man ruin her! As clan leader, as her elder sister (actually her younger sister), if I don’t go through hell, then who will?!
She took a step forward, her cheeks burning with shame and anger as she said, “Let me go!”
Behind her, Windsor’s face, as calm and still as a lake, finally showed a flicker of emotion.
Almost instinctively, she reached out and grabbed Motsi’s wrist.
Feeling her warmth, Motsi met Windsor’s gaze.
Her eyes were filled with fear and a silent plea.
She seemed to be begging Motsi for something, but Motsi misunderstood her entirely.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
Motsi whispered as she held that hand gently, then pulled her wrist free and headed back up onto the dais.
Seeing this, Landis’s smile faded, replaced by a trace of anger lurking behind her eyes.
It seemed her beloved was really unruly—getting all lovey-dovey with another woman right in front of her. Did she think she was deaf and blind?
A strand of hair fell across her face, hiding the glint in her eyes, while the hand resting on the armrest clenched tighter.
Motsi blushed as she came before her, sneaking glances toward Windsor to gauge her expression.
“When will my sister’s hand be healed?”
“When I’m satisfied.”
Again with that sly answer. How could she ever know when this guy would be satisfied?
If he played it to the fullest, my dignity would be lost completely without a trace left.
She plopped down on Landis’s soft lap, cheeks flushed and eyes darting around nervously, unwilling to meet Windsor’s gaze.
“Just do whatever you want already!”
She shouted at Landis with a look of desperate recklessness.
“Oh, my beloved, don’t be so impatient. I’ll make you… so comfortable that you’ll lose all sense.”
Landis whispered softly into Motsi’s ear, wrapping her hands around Motsi’s waist, her eyes deliberately challenging as they flicked toward Windsor standing behind the dais.
Then she buried her face in that pale, soft neck.
The warm, moist sensation invaded Motsi’s mind—like a slippery eel crawling up her neck, wriggling its body, pressing its soft head against her skin, making it tingle.
She closed her eyes tightly, as if enduring extreme pain, yet the pink flush spreading across her cheeks suggested otherwise.
Below the stage, Windsor glared at the scene with wide eyes.
Her left hand clenched until it was nearly bleeding, and her clenched teeth revealed the storm raging within her.
Her eyes betrayed raw jealousy and fury, her body trembling slightly from the effort to restrain herself.
This humiliating expression, this pitiful sight, was something she had never seen before.
And the one who turned the clan leader into this state was not her…
Jealous rage ignited in her heart, and a dark, ugly thought surfaced—she wanted to kill her, to kill the one who defiled the body of the clan leader!
But she couldn’t. She didn’t have the strength.
Even if she charged forward now with one hand to strangle that person, what chance of success would she have?
Even a sliver would be enough for her to rush forward without hesitation and kill the one who desecrated her clan leader!
But… her own body didn’t have a single chance.
Not now.
Not yet.
She had to hold back, endure… endure at all costs.
Windsor took a trembling, deep breath and decisively closed her eyes, refusing to witness that salacious scene.
On the dais, Landis lifted her head from that soft, jade-like white skin, a slender tongue drawing out a silver thread.
She deliberately glanced toward Windsor, only to find she was still keeping her eyes shut.
This would never do.
How could she feel pleased without watching the whole thing?
Her eyes flicked to the cat ears atop Windsor’s head.
A smile curved her lips.
“Still comfortable, my beloved?”
“Not comfortable!!”
Landis chuckled lightly, then said, “In that case, I guess I’ll have to try something else.”
Motsi’s heart skipped a beat. Damn my mouth!
Suddenly, she felt Landis’s hands on her head, looking down at her delicate cheeks.
“W-What are you doing?”
Motsi asked, voice trembling.
“Of course, I’m giving my beloved some water to drink.”
A deep purple flower pressed its stem beneath, the flower bud tightly nestled against the delicate petals beneath.
They rubbed and swayed gently until the petals parted slightly, letting a bright red nectar flow out.
But the tempting breeze stirring the purple flower didn’t stop.
The beautiful stamens, coated in sticky, transparent nectar, emerged, slowly wiping away the bright red nectar.
Then the flower bud bent down to cover the fragrant red wound.
The wind passed through the flower bud, sucking at the wound.
Nectar streamed out, filling the purple flower’s petals.
The stamens continued their gentle caress until the delicate petals trembled, warm dewdrops falling from the flower.
Motsi gradually found it harder to breathe.
The purple flower clung too tightly.
Just as she tried to bend away from the bud, the flower relentlessly pursued, bending its stem lower and lower, leaving her no room to breathe.
Her body nearly lay against Landis’s legs.
Below, Windsor still kept her eyes tightly shut, silently reciting the names of the dishes Motsi loved to eat.
“Ugh…”
Suddenly, Motsi’s choking, pained voice reached her ears, followed by Landis’s soft hums and the sticky nectar’s sound as it was passed and rubbed.
Windsor finally couldn’t help but open her eyes, her heart nearly skipping a beat at that moment…
That damn purple flower was almost forcing the flower she cherished beneath it to do something so obscene.
Landis caught sight of her finally opening her eyes and only pressed harder.
The delicate flower bud grew limp and powerless.
It seemed to notice Windsor’s gaze and, with tears flowing, softly begged, “Don’t look… Windsor… quickly, close your eyes, ugh…”
Clatter!
Something fell to the ground.
Windsor collapsed weakly onto the floor, a black box slipping from her pocket and sliding down the steps of the throne.
Pop~
The wind finally ceased.
The flower bud parted, drawing out a silver thread with the nectar.
Landis picked up the nearly fainted Motsi from suffocation and gently laid her on the throne.
She rose and strode toward the dazed Windsor, stopping in front of the Black Box.
Crash!
She raised her foot and viciously crushed the box, pressing the Pale Hand inside beneath her sole.
“What a truly beautiful hand, isn’t it?”
Windsor came back to her senses, tears uncontrollably streaming down her face.
She trembled as she clung to Landis’s pristine white thigh.
“Please… don’t do these things to the clan leader anymore… I’ll do whatever you want… just please spare her.”
Landis raised an eyebrow, a mocking gleam in her eyes as she stared into Windsor’s vacant gaze.
“You said it yourself. I want you to—kill the Newlywed Husband of the princess.”
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