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※ This work contains high-intensity, hardcore elements and scenes that may polarize readers. Please be advised before reading.

VI. A Flustered Celebration (2)

“Hmm, hmm, mm-hmm—”

It was truly a night for humming a merry tune. Perched lightly on the balcony railing, Jeina kicked off her tight, high-heeled shoes with a few flicks of her feet. Wiggling her bare feet, stark white under the bright moon, she waited for the large man who would soon push aside the curtains, open the door, and walk towards her. Her hair fluttered finely in the cool night breeze.

It was a rather nice night. No, in fact, it could be considered one of the very best. Well, after all, until just a short while ago, the very concept of day and night had long since vanished for her. The banquet, which she thought would be dull and boring, had its amusing and rather appealing aspects, and the knight’s attire—seemingly draped in every possible formality—was splendid enough to restore an appetite she never knew she had.

The shirt unbuttoned to the neck, the epaulettes that made his broad shoulders stand out even more, all the medals and insignias that seemed to speak of his prestige within the Empire. The belt worn over the regalia adorned with all those trinkets.

‘The sight of his waist cinched tightly like that was quite a view.’

And what about those trousers, coming down as if embracing his straight, sturdy legs?

There couldn’t be a better form to boost concentration and fuel the imagination for spinning a new tale. She smiled a sinister smile, thinking of countless ways to tease the knight who was all brawn but no nerve.

From beyond the heavy window, a light and flexible melody of song drifted in, mingled with the voices of those drunk on liquor and the atmosphere. Jeina wiggled her pale white feet to the rhythm of the song, fully savoring the thrill and excitement surging inside her. On the balconies to either side, a man and woman were clinking glasses and whispering. A man spreading his tail feathers wide like a peacock, acting as if he could pluck the stars and moon for her, and the woman either truly believing it or pretending to believe it with a laugh. Jeina sipped her pungent liquor while observing the two couples, similar yet different. The similarly pungent couples seemed completely unaware they had an audience observing them from the side.

Naturally, her thoughts returned once more to Ronius. No matter how sensitive one’s instincts, unless they were a mage capable of wielding mana, they would hardly notice the protective barrier she had thoroughly woven around her spot. Not that it would matter if they did. She simply wanted to see the man, out in the open under the bright moonlight, helpless with shame and pleasure.

A flushed face, restless movements, moans that would echo… Jeina giggled. In the rather chilly air, her peaks stood fully at attention, and below, it twitched like a live fish, waiting for her. And when he turned around, the valley between the two boulders that would soon soften under her touch would call for her hands, her lips, her lust. When her thoughts reached this point, the laughter that had been trickling out for a while stopped dead. She clenched tightly below, stealing a white liquid deeper between her legs.

“He’s late?”

A white hand appeared holding a fan that seemed to be part of a set with her dress, accompanied by a tightly controlled voice. Jeina tapped her palm with the folded fan. Tap, tap. As if keeping time, the crimson-black fan fell rhythmically onto her palm.

For her, who had no particular sense of time, time passing was all the same, yet it strangely felt like a rather long while had gone by. She had so much to do and wanted to do, and she didn’t like that her playtime was gradually shrinking. It was ironic to feel a sensation she’d never experienced even in that musty, stifling basement, now while breathing this cool, open air, and all in less than an hour.

‘Is this how it feels to wait for prey tracking your scent?’

The ‘Handling and Taming’ section of the book she’d read over and over. The author asserted that one must also know how to wait to tame something perfectly to one’s taste and pluck the true fruit, but…

“Well…”

Perhaps due to her lack of practical experience, she seemed to have no talent for that part.

“If I left that many crumbs, he should’ve… found his way here by now.”

Thud! She brought the fan down onto her palm.

“Don’t you think, Sir Knight?”

“……”

“Hm? What took you so long?”

She tilted her head, speaking languidly. Step by tidy, e***t step, the man emerged into the moonlight.

A shiver ran through her, thrillingly electric, at the sight of this offering laid beneath the moon. Jeina slowly licked her lips as she admired the approaching man. The vacant red eyes fixed on her, the reddened corners of his eyes and clenched mouth as if he was holding back something immense, and yet, the posture unbefittingly steadfast for a knight. The thought that she could shame such a rigidly composed man by recounting his reasons, and punish him even more severely, sent tingles vibrating through her whole body. The slickness she had stolen inside earlier gushed forth again, trickling down between her legs.

‘Ah, the wait.’

Only then did she give a slight nod. After all, he’d kept her waiting all day…

“Mage.”