Chapter 165 You have to admit, this man…
I don't know how I got through that night; I was completely bewitched.
His hands pressed against my elbows, his lips met mine, and his hot breath flowed through my eyes, the tip of my nose, and between my lips, making my body heat up. It was intensely hot; every pore, every inch of my skin felt like it was burning.
I couldn't help but kiss him back, and he was encouraged, kissing me even more passionately.
We kissed each other, on the bed and off the bed.
They kissed passionately, their kiss lasting forever, until they lost track of time.
The robes were torn to shreds and scattered all over the ground; mine and his all fell to the ground.
Outside, it was freezing cold; inside, it was scorching hot. I thought for a moment that the room was on fire—no, the bed.
We rolled around, our breath burning, which drove us ever more insane.
It burned all night long...
When I woke up, it was already evening. I suddenly remembered that I had been going crazy all night, until dawn, until noon, and I couldn't stop.
I've never been this crazy before.
I never imagined I would have such physical strength.
This prince, known for his womanizing and romantic escapades, is indeed different.
I have to admire his rich experience and superb skills; he completely captivated me.
I sat up halfway, feeling a chill on my body. I hugged my chest and realized I was completely naked.
The playboy prince is no longer here; he's probably off "working."
What a high-quality man! He's top-notch both in and out of bed, and he doesn't forget his career even after his romantic escapades. That's rare!
What I admire even more is his bedroom skills. Yes, they are exceptionally superb, practically masterful. No wonder he was able to captivate the brilliant Empress Dowager back then.
Any woman who meets him will be doomed in bed.
No wonder he was so confident he could win me over. Even when I was cold and indifferent to him, or even spoke harshly to him, he still smiled at me. He must have been certain I was his for the taking back then.
"Women killer," I sighed.
I put on my robe and got up, looking out the window at the drizzling rain; the western border was beginning to enter late autumn.
From that day on, I became infatuated with him, spending every night with him and forgetting all other men.
You have to admit, this man has some skills.
I finally understand why some incredibly intelligent men can fall for a seductive and cheap woman.
He and I are essentially gender-swapped versions.
I can't live without him. When his lips and tongue intertwine with mine, when his kisses land on my neck, when he holds me tightly in his passionate embrace, I simply can't leave him.
I was practically his bride every night, entangled with him until dawn, and severely lacking sleep.
I had no interest in official documents or business; all I wanted was to be with him every moment.
I was very clingy to him. Wherever he was, I was there too. When he was "working," I was reading official documents, though I didn't absorb much of it; when he was in a meeting, I was sitting at the conference table, though I didn't listen to much of it either.
When the mood is right, I'll whisper sweet nothings in his ear, making him blush.
Because it was said in a very explicit way.
I would say things like, "I like you in this way and that way," and he would laugh out loud, laughing nonstop, his body gradually getting hot, and finally he would pounce on me.
We were like newly in love, clinging to each other like conjoined twins.
As I kissed him, I told him:
"I like your ass."
"I like the feel of your hands."
He became even more insane because of my sweet words, and almost crushed me to pieces...
The cold autumn rain falls every day, and our room is sweltering every day. I hope this rain will continue forever, so that he will never leave.
The heavy rain hampered his journey, preventing him from returning to the North, and I hadn't yet decided whether to go back with him. The independent capital of the Westerlands had only recently been recaptured, and everything was in need of rebuilding; I had many things to attend to.
He kept urging me to go back with him, but I kept dodging the question and hadn't made up my mind yet.
I've discovered that I'm actually quite good; I wasn't completely seduced by male beauty, which is quite an achievement.
Too many women are love-struck, and I might be one of them.
But I'm not sure if I've truly fallen in love with him, or with the benefits he brings.
I certainly wouldn't enjoy this kind of benefit in modern times. I've never been so captivated by any other man. This man certainly has his extraordinary qualities; perhaps he's in this line of work, and you have to admit it.
Two months passed, the rain gradually subsided, and late autumn was almost over. He was about to set off and invited me back again. After thinking about it, I decided to refuse.
The Great City is my homeland; going to the North is like being a "guest," which isn't very advantageous. Perhaps Mamboa doesn't think that way; he feels that since I married him, being with him is a matter of course, and returning to the North is like coming home.
But I still feel something's off.
Perhaps deep down we've always believed our marriage was based on mutual benefit, not a true one, and therefore the North wasn't a real home.
That morning, I was about to refuse him when I suddenly lost my footing and almost fell to the ground. If it weren't for the two maids catching me at the same time...
"What's wrong with you?" Manberia picked me up in his arms.
"I don't know what's wrong with me, but I feel a little dizzy." I pressed my temples.
The imperial physician arrived quickly, examined her for a while, and said with a smile, "Congratulations, Your Highness, you are pregnant."
My mind went blank for a second.
How could this be? How is this possible? How could I be pregnant?
Manberia was overjoyed, his face beaming with happiness, and he hugged me tightly.
When Beatrice heard the news, she rushed over and overheard the royal physician's words. She also congratulated me.
I don't know if it was just my imagination, but I vaguely saw a hint of relief on her face.
Thank goodness? That's too strange.
Five days later, I followed Mamboa to the North. I was now pregnant with his child, and he was naturally worried about leaving me alone in the West. Besides, he felt that his child must be born in the North to be a true member of the Northern royal family. Although this was a bit strange, I could understand it. Just like some children born in the United States can obtain American citizenship, your place of birth sometimes represents the recognition you receive from the people of that place.
We traveled by flying carriage and train, and after three or four days, we arrived in the North. This was the fastest we could go. For an ordinary civilian to travel from the West to the North, it would take at least ten days.
In the icy, snowy landscape, the moment I stepped onto the northern land, I felt a blast of cold air.
It was deep winter again, and the snow was very thick. Luckily, the carriage wheels were high.
We sat in the warm carriage, which sped towards the palace.
Manboa held my hand. "Are you tired? We'll be at the palace soon, and you can rest."
I hummed in response but didn't say anything to avoid vomiting.
I've been experiencing severe morning sickness these past few days, vomiting three or four times almost every day, and I feel completely exhausted.
But what's there to say? I brought this on myself.
He was momentarily infatuated with sexual pleasure, and as a result, he went too far and caused this outcome.
Several hours later, we finally arrived at the palace. As soon as we entered the magnificent hall, we saw two beautiful women, dressed in bright colors and extraordinary attire, walking towards us.
It turned out to be Manberia's cousin and chief mistress.
My cousin smiled sweetly, "Brother Manboya, you're back! Dinner is ready for you and my sister."
The chief mistress then hooked her arm around Manberia's and said with a coquettish smile, "I've been looking forward to Your Highness's return so much that I can't sleep at night."
Mamboya's fingers traced her smooth face. "I can't sleep every night either."
Knowing full well he was lying, the chief mistress was still overjoyed. Her cousin ignored their flirting, simply smiling and saying, "Your Highness, let's go to the dining room first. Sister, I heard you're pregnant?"
To avoid vomiting, I simply grunted in response. To them, this reaction might have seemed a bit cold, but I've always been indifferent to them, so they didn't seem to mind.
As I entered the elegant dining room, the aroma of various delicious dishes wafted over me, but I felt a wave of nausea and vomiting. I rushed to the door and couldn't help but vomit.
Manberia quickly patted my back and ordered someone to bring me some cooling balm. This cooling balm is made from several essential oils that are refreshing and harmless to pregnant women, and it is extremely effective in stopping nausea.
Sure enough, after smelling it a few times, I felt much better, but I couldn't stay in the dining room any longer, so I went back to my room.
The room was the same as before, but it was spotless, and the sheets and curtains had been replaced with new ones, clearly having been carefully maintained.
The fireplace was already lit, and the room was warm. I sat on the rug by the fireplace and unexpectedly saw Bernard's letter on the bookshelf next to it.
Mamboa made no attempt to hide his letter from me. Perhaps he knew that blocking it would be useless; not only would Bernard find various ways to deliver the letter, but I might also resent him for blocking it in the future. He figured it was better for him to be open and allow me to read my letter publicly now.
He reads all the private messages that are delivered to me. He said it's a rule of the Northern royal family that the wives of high-ranking nobles cannot read private messages first; only after their husbands have read them can the wives read them.
"It's to prevent a scandal, you know?" he once told me with a grin.
I gathered all of Bernard's letters and opened them one by one. I had also received letters from Bernard in the Westerlands, about two a month. They weren't very long, and to be honest, even if they were, I wouldn't have had time to read them; I was very busy in the Westerlands.
Unlike the letters I received in the Westerlands, the letters I'm taking out of the bookshelf now were received after I left the North. At that time, Bernard didn't know I had gone to the Westerlands, so all the letters were sent to the North and only later to the Westerlands.
I read through all the old letters. The contents weren't anything special; they were about how he outwitted his stepmother and fought for power with his brothers. He told me not to worry and that he wouldn't suffer too much.
I touched my belly and sighed deeply. If he knew I was pregnant with Mamboya's child, would he still "talk" to me like this? Would he write to me? I don't think any man would be so generous.
Snowflakes fluttered outside the window, covering the glass with frost flowers, as if the glass was slowly splitting apart. Would my relationship with him also split apart like that?
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