Lust for the King’s Wife

Chapter 11: Same Bed (2)

The sun rose briskly, brushing aside the morning dew to cast its warm light over the kingdom.

In this rare moment of pleasant weather, people took to the streets in light clothing, eager to enjoy the fleeting warmth between winter’s icy breaths. Children ventured out for picnics, and even animals lounged in the sunny patches, yawning contentedly.

It was perfect weather to celebrate the return of the Hero’s Party. Deciding to seize the moment, the king himself led a procession through the grand avenue, accompanied by ministers, elaborately adorned soldiers, and even maids.

At the center of it all was me.

I had somewhat anticipated such fanfare, yet I couldn’t stop my shoulders from tensing under the weight of so many eyes.

“Straighten your back, idiot. A hero all hunched over like that? Pathetic,” Siha said sharply.

“I’m just… not used to this.”

“I understand, Alf,” Jorfe chimed in with a kind smile. “It’s your first time, so feeling a little overwhelmed is normal. But now’s the time to show confidence.”

“You seem used to this, Jorfe.”

“Academy life often involves addressing large audiences. Plenty of rude interruptions, too.”

“And you, Siha?”

“Me? I love standing in front of these inferiors. It’s like watching ants swarm spilled crumbs.”

So, I was the only one feeling out of place. No matter how hard I tried to steel myself, my forehead stayed slick with sweat, and my gaze flitted nervously around.

At that moment, the soldier leading the procession shouted in a thunderous voice, announcing my presence. The volume alone made me flinch.

“Presenting the great Hero Alf, slayer of the Black Dragon!”

“Alf! Alf! Alf! Alf!”

“Waaaaaaah!”

The soldiers chanted my name, and the easily swayed crowd followed, erupting into jubilant cheers. 

Though too ordinary to fully empathize with the exploits of a hero, they could certainly admire the story. Their faces shone with unrestrained joy.

“Hail Alf! Hail Alf!”

“We love you, Hero!”

“Well done, Hero! Long live Alf! Long live the kingdom!”

“Th-thank you,” I stammered, overwhelmed by the sheer energy of the crowd.

Even a stoic man would have no choice but to respond in such a situation. I awkwardly raised a hand to wave, and the crowd’s cheers grew even louder.

“Hero! Hero! Hero!”

“Hold my baby, please! Her name is Cecilia!”

“The dragon is dead! This is humanity’s era! Long live the great Hero Alf! Long live the king!”

The infectious enthusiasm even reached the reserved nobility, who joined in with delighted exclamations. Among them were the king and the princess, both basking in the people’s adoration.

But Mirian was nowhere to be seen.

As my restless gaze searched for her absent figure, a group of nobles approached to offer their congratulations.

“Behold, Hero! Look at the fervor of the masses! It’s all for you. You’re the star of the day!”

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Count Brey.”

“No need for such formality! Let’s leave past grudges behind and start anew. If you wish, you may consider me a brother. Please, call me Brother Brey!”

“I’m not sure about that…”

“No need to hold back! By the way, Hero, don’t you think it’s time to focus on the kingdom’s internal affairs as well as its external threats? I’d be happy to offer some advice…”

Ambition knows no bounds, regardless of time or place. Instead of being impressed, I let out a quiet sigh.

The people of the palace were already weaving their plans around me, regardless of my intentions. I would have to find excuses to avoid such situations in the future.

Thankfully, the king’s commanding voice cut through the nobles’ machinations.

“Enough! I have something to say for my hero!”

“Make way! The king speaks!”

At the lead soldier’s exaggerated proclamation, the procession halted. The king, pleased by the display of control, smiled and addressed the gathered crowd.

“To the people who suffered under the dragon’s oppression, I say this: the nightmare is over. The princess has returned, and no longer will this great kingdom be swallowed by darkness and terror.”

“…”

“The dragon is gone. The days of despair are behind us. Never again shall our kingdom bow to the unknown horrors that lurk beyond.”

“Ooooh…”

“The age of heroes has not yet passed. So, my people, no more tears of sorrow—only tears of joy.”

“Uwoooooh!”

“Behold your new hero, standing right here among you!”

“Waaaaaaaaah!!!”

Raising my hand high, the king stirred the crowd into a fever pitch. Their ecstatic cheers erupted like fountains, and the king joined in, patting my shoulder and cheering alongside them.

Leaning close so only I could hear, he whispered, “Remember this moment, Alf. This roar of the people—that is my legacy to you.”

“This honor is far too great for me.”

“None are more deserving of it in this kingdom. Accept it without reservation.”

“Sire, what I desire is—”

“Ah, here comes my next gift,” he interrupted, gesturing ahead.

Following his gaze, I saw the princess approaching. She clasped her hands before her and, in a shy voice, called my name.

“Alf.”

“Princess.”

The exchange was brief. Without hesitation, she stepped closer and took my hands in hers.

And then, she kissed me.

“Mmm…?”

“…”

Caught off guard, I instinctively took a step back. The sweetness of her lips was overshadowed by my worry over the repercussions of this public display. I tried to gently push her away.

But the crowd responded with applause and cheers. To them, this was a symbol of a new era, the dawn of a glorious future.

“Waaaaaah!”

“Hero! Hero! Hero!”

“…Princess.”

In the midst of the raucous ovation, I spoke softly, hoping my concern and sincerity would reach her. But that was all I could do.

No matter how great my achievements, I could not reject the princess’ heartfelt gesture in front of the entire kingdom. She knew this well and used it to her advantage, whispering to me with confidence.

“Shh, Alf.”

“…”

“Don’t say a word.”

Her command restrained me. This time, she tilted her head slightly, leaving the next move to me. She didn’t press forward, merely parted her lips slightly in anticipation.

Instead of meeting them, I leaned in and placed a respectful kiss on her forehead. Even that seemed to delight her, as she clung tightly to my arm.

***

After the procession ended, I lay alone on my bed, away from my companions. Normally, I would have sought their advice, but today, I didn’t feel like it.

Why?

Was it because I realized the princess’ feelings for me were genuine? Or because I couldn’t shake the absence of someone else?

I didn’t know. My wrist throbbed faintly as my thoughts spiraled.

“Hah…”

The weight of my musings settled into a sigh. Raising a hand, I touched my lips.

Just hours ago, they had met the princess’ breath. I had always thought of her as a child, yet her kiss carried undeniable sincerity.

But that was all. I felt no excitement, no thrill, no longing. Her desire for me was the only thing that lingered, like an iron nail driven into my thoughts.

And the more I dwelled on it, the more another kiss came to mind.

One I shouldn’t dwell on.

One I couldn’t help but recall.

The deeper I sank into my memories, the more my wrist throbbed, the wound there pulsing with a quiet ache.

“…Ugh.”

The pain was sharper than expected, eliciting an involuntary groan. My body, sturdy by nature, usually healed minor wounds quickly. 

Yet this tiny puncture remained unhealed even after several days, refusing to fade.

At times, a small bead of blood would well up, glistening faintly in the dim light. In its crimson reflection, my face looked as flushed as I had been on that night.

“Some lessons,” she had said, “must be accompanied by pain.”

I stared at the dark wound, repeating her words in my mind. As I lay back on the bed, the cool sheets, chilled by the night air, pressed against my hands.

Once again, memories of that night surged through my thoughts. The crisp air, the veiled bed, the soft, yielding sensation of her skin against mine.

If I closed my eyes, I could almost recall her scent as vividly as if she were beside me. Perhaps it was this unmet longing, this lingering incompleteness, that had ensnared me so deeply.

But what about her?

Was Mirian, too, lying in the same bed, recalling the fleeting touch we shared? Was she shivering, haunted by the memory of my presence, the ghost of my scent?

***

Such thoughts were interrupted by a faint tapping sound at the window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“…?”

The noise was so soft it could easily be mistaken for an insect. But my heightened senses caught it immediately, and I turned toward the window.

For a fleeting moment, I saw it—a shadow of thorned vines retreating from the glass. In this castle, only one person would send such a message. My heart began to race.

“Mirian…?”

…

I called her name on impulse, but no response came. Approaching the window cautiously, I caught sight of a faintly moving shadow disappearing toward her chamber.

“…”

I couldn’t decipher what it meant, but I was already moving, drawn like a moth to a flame. It was close to midnight; with some discretion, I could reach her room unnoticed.

But I hadn’t accounted for an unforeseen variable, one that appeared as soon as I opened my door.

“Ah.”

“Uh… Alf?”

“…Princess?”

Standing there, her hand poised to knock, was the princess herself. She froze, wide-eyed, and looked up at me.

I, too, was momentarily stunned. Though not her first time visiting my chambers, her presence at this hour was unprecedented.

As we stared at each other, locked in an awkward silence, the princess broke it by smiling softly and brushing her lips against my chin.

“Good evening, Alf.”

“What brings you here so late, Princess?”

“Well… that depends. Where were you headed?”

“Just… a late-night walk, I suppose. And you?”

“Your room is much larger than I expected,” she said, ignoring my question.

Before I could respond, she slipped past me and began inspecting the space, her gaze wandering curiously. Then, without hesitation, she plopped onto the bed.

“Where’s everyone else? I thought you’d all be together.”

“I asked for some time alone tonight. I’ve been more fatigued than I realized.”

“Fatigued? Makes sense. Processions are exhausting, aren’t they? Common folk don’t understand how tiring it is to be part of the spectacle—whether you’re guarding or being guarded.”

“Princess, if I may—”

“For some reason, though, I still can’t sleep,” she cut me off again, lying down fully on the bed.

“So, I thought maybe a familiar place might help. That’s why I came here.”

“Princess…”

“The safest place for a princess to sleep,” she continued, “is beside her hero. I’ve always believed that, and I still do.”

“I…”

“And besides, I have so much to say about today.”

Her hushed voice filled the room, and the moonlight pouring through the window painted her silver dress with a soft glow. 

The fabric, thinner than usual, hinted at the outline beneath, catching the light in a way that made it nearly translucent.

But the princess paid no heed, her clear, melodious voice weaving through the quiet night.

“So, let’s sleep together tonight. Just like before, holding hands. Can’t we?”