Chapter 209 The combination of sexiness and purity...
As evening fell, the ship approached a desolate island. It was getting dark, and the people who had arrived on the island earlier had already lit torches, their lights twinkling across half the island.
“It seems King Sarga has already set up camp on the island,” Bernot said to a guard. “You take your men and set up camp as far away from their tents as possible.”
"yes."
I sat silently in a corner of the boat the whole time.
Before long, the ship docked, and King Sarga's army was already waiting on the shore. It was almost completely dark, and torchlight illuminated the surroundings. In the bright firelight, King Sarga, dressed in a black military uniform and wearing a long black cloak, stood at the very front of the ranks. Surrounding him were elven armored guards armed with weapons.
King Sarga's golden, deep eyes, hidden deep within the glacier, reflected the firelight, revealing a breathtaking beauty. His smooth, golden curls almost touched the ground, shimmering with a golden glow.
“Long time no see!” He smiled at me. “Come on, our daughter is waiting for you.”
He extended his long, slender, pale hand to me, his golden, alluring nails sparkling and translucent. I instinctively reached out to grasp it, but Benoît stopped me. Benoît held my hand while smiling at King Sarga, "Alright, let's go now."
King Sarga merely smiled faintly and did not reply. He walked ahead, while Bernard and I followed behind. After walking for a short while, we suddenly heard a little girl's silvery laughter. King Sarga raised his voice slightly: "Anleya!"
A swift whirlwind swept by, and a little girl in a long white tutu, with two braids and a semi-transparent star-patterned shawl rushed over, shouting, "Father!"
King Sarga scooped her up in his arms, a doting smile on his face. “Come, come and meet your mother.”
The little girl turned her gaze to me, curious and inquiring.
“Father, I already have a mother.” The little girl pouted. “I have several mothers, I don’t need any more.”
I felt somewhat embarrassed and ashamed—shortly after her birth, the royal court was in turmoil, and I had to hand her over to King Sarga.
“None of them are your mother; only she is,” King Sarga explained with a smile.
The little girl wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, her lips pressed together, and she didn't say a word.
"Alright, come down and say hello to your mother." King Sarga put her down, but she still tugged at his robes without speaking.
"What's wrong?" King Sarga asked her gently.
“Father, I have had enough mothers,” she said.
The firelight illuminated her tender and adorable little face, her eyes were round, her skin was smooth and translucent, and her little arms and legs were even more plump and cute, yet her expression was serious and earnest.
"Who taught you that?" King Sarga asked with a smile, but his tone was stern.
She lowered her head and remained silent, loosening her grip on her father's robe. Suddenly, she looked at me and gave a proper bow, "Greetings, Mother!"
I took two steps forward, smiled at her, and said, "Hello, Anleya. I'm not trying to take you away from your mothers, I just want to meet you."
Anleya's eyes were strange, and she didn't speak. It was odd; she was clearly only five or six years old, yet she had such deep, thoughtful eyes. She had her own ideas and was very precocious—that was my strongest impression of her.
She also reminded me of Beatrice, Dyaro's daughter, who was also precocious and profound.
The night wind on the island was cold and chilly. We sat at a table next to it, which was filled with dinner prepared in advance by King Sarga's men: beef stewed in red wine, asparagus and shrimp, pan-fried salmon with lemon, mashed potatoes with tomatoes, chicken salad with avocado, vegetable salad, a basket of freshly baked bread, as well as red wine, lemon juice and orange juice, and water.
It must be said that such preparations were very thorough.
Dinner was eaten quietly; almost no one spoke. After dinner, Anleya and I sat in a tent and talked. I held a book in my hand and asked her, "Do you know the script of the Eastern Lands?" She shook her head. "My father said I must first learn the script of our Elven race."
"If you want to learn the script of the Eastern Frontier in the future, I can teach you."
“I can learn the languages of all the regions, but you won’t teach me; I will have the best teacher.”
Her remarks stunned me; I never expected a little girl to have such arrogance and ideas.
“Yes, I believe you can learn it very well,” I said.
“Whether you believe me or not, I can learn it very well,” she said.
I was speechless for a moment and didn't know what to say.
“My father told me to be polite to you, and I’ve been very polite to you, haven’t I?” she giggled.
I tried to nod, but for some reason my neck stiffened and I couldn't move it at all.
"You don't need to feel sad or think that I'm not close to you. But you've never been by my side, so of course I'm not close to you," she chuckled.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” My nose stung with tears. “I apologize to you. At that time, the inner court was in turmoil, and there were crises on all sides. I had no choice but to hand you over to your father. I was incompetent, I admit it. I sincerely apologize to you, but not to ask for your forgiveness or to lessen my own guilt. I just feel that I must say this apology to let you know that I feel guilty towards you, that I was wrong, and that this kind of mistake cannot be easily forgiven.”
She was stunned.
Just then, the tent door was lifted, and King Sarga, having taken off his cloak, walked in. "Anleya, it's time for you to go to bed."
Anleya bowed to us, like a little adult, and then left.
“I’ve actually been wanting you to come back, but you only recently appeared.” King Sarga smiled at me. “It seems difficult to get you to come back to the Secret Realm with me this time.”
“I won’t go to the secret realm,” I said bluntly.
"Why?" King Sarga sat down on the soft, thick carpet. "I will not mistreat you. Even if you are my mistress, you will be the most glamorous one."
I sat down on the comfortable carpet. "It's like this," I said, "I'm tired of being a mistress and think it's better to be a wife. Although my husband is currently in exile, I still have a legal status."
“I think Prince Bernard also seems to want you to be his mistress.”
I smiled and asked, "Why is it that none of you want to marry me as your legal wife?"
King Sarga smiled faintly, "To be a principal wife requires a substantial dowry, even a kingdom as part of the dowry. Do you have that?"
“I can be the legal wife of a man who is less powerful, so I don’t need such a large dowry, because the man can’t afford such a large dowry.”
"Is this why you chose King Amur's youngest son?"
“He chose me. He thinks I’m a superhuman, and that’s worth it.”
"So, you reached some kind of exchange of benefits?"
"Was your marriage to your legal wife also based on some kind of exchange of benefits?"
King Sarga suddenly laughed out loud, "This is the first time I've realized you have such excellent eloquence."
I smiled and said, "That's because you've never truly understood me."
“I really want to get to know you,” he said, taking off his military jacket to reveal his muscular chest. “It’s just that you rarely give me the chance.”
"You..." I was speechless.
He took off his military jacket and then his military trousers, standing naked in front of me. "Do you feel that Anleya is not close to you? Maybe we should have another child and let him grow up by your side. He will definitely become your closest child."
I closed my eyes. "Why do you men always think about these things?"
"What do you want?" he asked with a sly smile.
"Thinking about sex."
"Of course," he readily admitted. "Is it wrong to like this?"
"You probably have plenty of sexual partners around you, so don't bother me."
"Come, open your eyes and look at me. Maybe you'll change your mind."
I didn't dare open my eyes. "Change your mind about what?"
"You'll know when you open your eyes."
I opened my eyes, stunned.
His perfectly muscular body was completely naked without any restraint. His incredibly toned muscles, alluringly sexy deltoids, firm and smooth abs, and long, strong legs were simply captivating, enough to make one's nose bleed.
The tent was dimly lit, but his pale, snow-white skin shone brightly, so white it made one feel slightly dizzy.
The combination of sexiness and purity is captivating.
It's so beautiful it seems unreal.
He suddenly knelt down in front of me, as if an angel had descended to earth. He embraced me tightly, his strong arms encircling my body like iron rings. I couldn't breathe, and when I slightly opened my mouth, he covered my lips with his.
The icy touch penetrated my teeth and spread throughout my body.
His tongue was cool, but his kiss was hot. He kissed me passionately, until I rolled to the ground. He rubbed against my legs, trying to separate us, but I stubbornly resisted, desperately stopping him.
His kisses grew more passionate, making me feel a surge of excitement too.
We kissed passionately, inseparable, including my legs.
In the end, he failed, and a strange, sticky liquid stained my arms, legs, and the fingers that were wrapped around the back of his neck.
He was panting and very angry, but there was nothing he could do.
I wrapped my legs around his waist again and laughed so hard I almost fell over.
Suddenly, a noisy commotion erupted outside the tent. Bernot's roar suddenly came out, followed by the sounds of fighting. The elven guards outside the tent seemed to be desperately protecting it, determined not to let outsiders in.
Sarga put on his military uniform, both the top and bottom, and straightened my disheveled clothes. Then Bernot burst in, followed by several elven guards, all covered in blood.
Bernot glared angrily at Salga, who simply smiled and left.
I sat alone on the carpet, looking at Bernard with a half-smile.
Bernard glared at me again, then slammed the door and left.
I heard they fought for half the night until they were both exhausted.
The sun rose halfway over the sea, and I sat in my open tent, watching the sunrise. The morning breeze carried the salty, damp scent of the sea.
I just received the news that I'm leaving this morning. Bernard has made all the arrangements and is just waiting for the ship to arrive in Shanghai.
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