Chapter 15
“The imperial ball, my lord!”
“Hmph.”
“What good is breaking the curse if you don’t put it to use afterward?! Let’s check whether the weapon works properly at the banquet. You also need to test your s****l prowess. Good grief, this is frustrating. It’s the subordinates who have to scour the entire continent looking for a bride, while the man involved folds his arms and watches like it’s someone else’s problem…!”
“Of course. Doing the grunt work is your job.”
“We can’t do the f*****g for you, can we?!”
At that moment, the back of Maximilian’s hand twitched.
Gustav, who had been roaring like a dragon, missed the reaction. He also failed to notice that his superior had immediately covered his face with his palm to hide his nervousness.
Maximilian then chased Gustav out, telling him to handle such trivial matters himself, and flawlessly completed everything on his schedule.
It was a day without a moment of rest, from approving his backlog of correspondence, to hearing petitions from the people of the territory, to observing the knights’ training at the military camp. Yet even after finishing dinner, it was only sunset.
At that point, he became deeply troubled. His mind began boiling all over again with thoughts of the witch.
When a man and woman make an appointment for s*x, when do they normally meet?
Should I send advance notice? Would it be rude to visit the very next day?
What am I supposed to prepare? Contraceptives or a gift? Wait, f*****g her is the payment, so do I really need to add a gift on top of that? Isn’t that excessive?
In truth, he had kept his mouth shut around Gustav because he didn’t want to divulge every petty detail like this. That bastard would undoubtedly find fault with every single thing. He would probably hand over some sort of manual and offer all kinds of advice, telling him to thrust this way and roll his hips that way.
Besides, he had a strangely ominous feeling. If that bastard discovered that he had agreed to sleep with the witch, Max had a feeling that matters would become extremely troublesome.
He rarely slept in his bedroom.
Max had stretched out his legs on the field cot in one corner of the office and was leafing through a book when he suddenly sat upright. His entire mind had become flesh-colored, and he couldn’t relax at all.
To hell with the imperial ball. It’s not as though I don’t already have someone to practice f*****g with.
Tension suddenly gathered in his lower abdomen. It was the warning sign of an e******n. Max hesitated no longer. Flying on a wyvern would be faster than riding a horse.
The moment he reached that conclusion, he headed straight for the flying beast stables. As soon as he received his personal wyvern from the delighted keeper, he flew low across the sky as the sunset faded into the darkness of night.
His landing place was, of course, the witch’s hut in the birch forest.
It wasn’t difficult to find the house with faint light leaking from it. He let the wyvern rest in the wide yard, then strode straight to the door. Perhaps it was because his body was heated, but even though the air was cold enough for his breath to plume, he didn’t feel chilled at all.
Bang, bang. He pounded on the door, demanding that she come out at once. Soon, just as it had yesterday, an ash-gold head peeked through the half-open door. It appeared quite low. He had thought so yesterday as well, but the witch was rather small.
“Who’s—”
“Take responsibility.”
“What?”
Before any sign of delight at recognizing Max could even cross Elizia’s face, the man abruptly demanded that she take responsibility. It was a flimsy excuse for coming back only one day after making their promise because he lacked patience.
“Take responsibility. I woke from a wet dream for the first time in ages. It was the first time I’d ever dreamed about doing that, and you were in it. Do you think that was all? I got hard twice against my will. I’m busy enough to death, but I had to jerk my c**k in the bathroom. It was a waste of time. Take responsibility for making me e*******e for no reason…”
Even at night, the woman still gave off a delicious, nutty scent.
Her curly hair looked as though grains of gold had been mixed through it, and her skin looked warm to the touch. Even the freckles on her cheeks seemed like traces left by being sweetly toasted in sunlight. Beneath the gentle curve of her nose, her unusually plump lips gleamed.
Was she wearing makeup? When Max’s thoughts reached that point, he belatedly noticed that she was dressed in a negligee, and something in his mind snapped.
She wore old nightclothes with an awkward fit. They were a perfect example of clothing that looked as though it had been handed down from someone else. The problem was that glimpses of her bare skin were clearly visible through them.
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