Living As the Villainess Queen

Abruptly, Eugene found herself reclining on the sofa, nestled within the crook of his arm. The pressure applied by his embrace was gentle, just enough to provide support without forcing her to dangle. Her entire weight rested securely on him. Kasser delicately explored her lips, careful to maintain a discreet distance, wary of overwhelming her.

He discerned the subtle shifts in her body, the aftermath of impending motherhood. Her temperature had heightened, casting a comforting warmth, while her scent had deepened, becoming an intoxicating fragrance that occasionally stirred his senses to the brink of madness.

Even as he indulged in the taste of her lips, the dance of tongues, and the exchange of saliva, it wasn’t sufficient. He delved eagerly into the exploration of her mouth, absentmindedly biting and licking. The sound of her breath, catching each time he relinquished her lips, heightened his senses.

As Eugene’s lips traversed his ear, tracing the path up the nape of his neck, a shiver coursed through his body. The kiss evolved gradually into a tender caress. When he affixed his lips to her neck and suckled, a tingling sensation, coupled with a mildly painful pleasure, surged through his body. She urgently implored him to cease.

“Kasser, stop it.”

He promptly released her lips, yet his eyes, ablaze with unbridled desire, remained ensnared by her gaze. Eugene’s cheeks flushed, and she bashfully averted her eyes. Initially ignited by passion in the early stages of pregnancy, now the warmth that engulfed her body made kissing him an uncomfortably heated endeavor.

“If the stimulation is too intense… for the baby…”

“Right,” Kasser muttered at the realization. “Sorry.”

He sighed at his own vulnerability, though the fervor within him refused to subside. The realization that only a few months remained cast a shadow over his emotions.

In a bout of solitude, Pides withdrew into the prayer room, not for the solace of prayer, but to sit in a vacant reverie, void of any particular thoughts. Standing on his own two feet became a formidable task after the foundational pillar of his life crumbled.

Time slipped away in a haze of aimlessness, and when awareness finally grasped him, the returned active season was nearing its conclusion. Exiting the prayer room, he ventured into the heart of the central garden. The noonday sun cast an intense glow, shadows at their briefest. Having been absent from this hour for an extended period, the surroundings appeared strangely unfamiliar, as if he were viewing the sanctuary from an entirely different vantage.

Shrub-laden walls and roofs adorned the courtyard, and chairs were scattered intermittently. Pides sought out a patch with less harsh sunlight and settled into a seat.

“I haven’t seen Pides in a while lately.”

The voice sliced through Pides’s vacant contemplation, sending a jolt through him. It emerged from the immediate vicinity, just behind him. Chairs strategically placed on either side of the shrub wall created an enclave for hushed conversations. Someone was seated there, engrossed in dialogue.

“They say he’s been holing up in the prayer room.”

“I haven’t seen him in ages. It’s like he’s skipped the monthly ritual.”

“Yeah, he hasn’t stepped out of the prayer room for over a month.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe His Holiness isn’t seeking him out these days?”

“I heard he earned His Holiness’s displeasure with a major blunder.”

“What sort of mistake could cause His Holiness’s favorite to fall out of favor?”

A bitter chuckle escaped Pides. There was a nuanced satisfaction in their voices as they contemplated his charade of residing in the prayer room. It became evident that the conversationalists were not priests but knights, boldly invoking his name.

The identities of the speakers eluded detection through their voices alone. Most knights reveled in indulgence and pleasure, a lifestyle that Pides, disapproving and aloof, chose to steer clear of. While he was aware of the general disdain other knights held for him, this marked the first instance of eavesdropping on their candid gossip.

Three distinct voices wove a tapestry of banter that initially revolved around lively inquiries about Pides but swiftly transitioned into tales of nocturnal exploits. Feeling it too late to assert his presence, Pides feigned slumber, his brows furrowing at various moments throughout their discourse.

“How can they discuss such matters in broad daylight, even if they don’t know I’m here?” Pides mumbled under his breath, startled as he turned his head back.

Upon reflection, he realized their presence had escaped him until the resonance of their voices reached his ears. Knights, by nature, possessed an innate sense of each other’s presence. Frowning pensively, he sighed. Sacrament.

All knights partook regularly in the sacrament granted by the High Priest. Initially, the senses sharpened upon consumption, but after about a month, the effects waned. It dawned on Pides that it had been well over two months since he last partook in the sacrament.

The notion lingered in Pides’ mind like an elusive whisper: Is it conceivable that a prolonged absence of the sacrament might render me numb to its effects? A spark of opportunity ignited within him.

Diverging from his fellow knights, Pides maintained the charade of residing within the sanctuary. His intimate familiarity with the sanctuary’s layout surpassed not only his knightly peers but even the priests. Unlike those intoxicated with a sense of superiority, Pides treated the priests with genuine respect, eschewing any inclination to domineer, and willingly extended a helping hand whenever they sought assistance. Consequently, there was scarcely a corner of the sanctuary unexplored by him. This meticulous familiarity ensured that even if he wandered into atypical realms, the priests remained blissfully ignorant of his movements.

First, I need to confirm.

The possibility of Sang-je discovering his investigative pursuits loomed as a potential setback. Pides couldn’t ascertain whether Sang-je’s ability to sense the knights would diminish alongside the waning power of the sacrament. His plan unfolded over the next few days as he roamed the sanctuary, a hesitant dance punctuated by moments of contemplation. Eventually, he took the decisive leap forward.

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