Chapter 259 "What I like about you is just this..."
Three days later, Bernard hosted a small party for my arrival, which was also to formally introduce me to his family.
The small banquet was quite lively. Princess Nora and her mistresses were all there, sitting in one corner, seemingly smiling, but their eyes were cold. I, an outsider, sat only with Bernard. Several key nobles were also there, sitting around Bernard, occasionally whispering something to him.
Some nobles and ladies danced gracefully, enjoying this rare moment of leisure.
I savored the wine alone; its aroma was subtle yet surprisingly pleasant. It seems that although life here is tough, there's no shortage of good wine—perhaps a reward for the hardworking men.
After drinking for a while, Bernard dismissed the few nobles sitting around and snuggled up to me, saying, "I'm sorry, I neglected you just now."
I just laughed as I drank, "What are you apologizing for? Your women are even more neglected."
Sure enough, when he looked up, Princess Nora and her mistresses were staring at him expectantly.
"You must be having a hard time all by yourself," I said. "Let's not talk about how hard it is to earn money or how tough life is. It's hard to support this whole family. Even physically, you can't take care of so many people. Are you expecting a bunch of women to gang up on you and tear you apart in bed?"
I laughed and finished the half-glass of wine in my hand.
He frowned. "Can't you speak more politely?"
"I'm not of noble birth, I'm a commoner by birth, that's how I talk." I seemed to be a little drunk. "Here, nobles are paired with nobles, and commoners with commoners. You can play with me if you want, that's why your nobles don't strongly resist me."
Since they won't marry me as their legal wife, but only as my mistress, the nobles will turn a blind eye.
"Give me some time," he said gently, taking my wine glass with his hand. "You're a little drunk, go back to your room and rest."
I squinted at him with drunken eyes and laughed happily, "Actually, I'm not at a loss. You're very handsome, have a great body, are top-notch in bed, and are a prince. I'd be willing to pay you to stay."
I laughed out loud, "Just thinking about it makes my body go weak. You don't even need to coax or deceive me. Just smile at me and I'll be willing to... do anything with you."
He laughed too, "If only that were true, I always have to coax and trick you."
I ran my fingers across his face, around his eyes, nose, and lips. "Such a handsome face, everyone would like it, including me and all those women."
I glanced over and laughed even harder. "They're clearly angry, clearly dissatisfied, clearly driven mad with jealousy, but as soon as they see your face, all their anger disappears."
"Are you like this too? Your anger disappears as soon as you see me." He took my waving hand and held it tightly in his palm.
"Really, my gigolo." I chuckled and snuggled up to him, practically pressing my whole body against him, until his body stiffened.
“Don’t think I have no temper,” his voice suddenly turned cold, “I don’t want to hear those words again.”
I pressed my lips against his ear and gently sucked. "When I become rich, I'll take care of you. You're so handsome and charming, I'd love to sleep with you for the rest of my life."
"I don't need a sugar daddy/sugar baby arrangement, I have money," he said coldly. "Sleeping with someone is fine too."
"It's my honor that you're willing to sleep with me. I've hit the jackpot in my life." I laughed and kissed his lips, reaching into his robes in public to touch and kiss him. I was about to be intimate with him in public, and all the nobles looked over, chuckling and whispering with great interest.
"You're drunk." He simply picked me up and carried me back to the room.
As soon as he was put down, I pounced on him, pinned him to the bed, and made love to him like a madman. It was the first time I had ever exhausted a man to the point that he couldn't even get out of bed.
I don't even remember how many times that night, I just remember kissing him, hugging him, and rubbing against him like crazy, until his lips were swollen from all the kissing.
But as he got dressed and stood up, I slapped him again.
He stared at me angrily and in bewildered.
“That’s how you treat a man: give him a treat and then whip him.” I looked at him lazily and defiantly.
He covered his face, his lips trembling as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't, and turned and left.
I bet he wanted to yell at me.
Too lazy to guess what he would say to me, I lay down on the bed and went to sleep.
Perhaps at that time I had a bad feeling, a feeling that we would eventually separate, fall out, and be apart for a very long time.
That's why I was so crazy and reckless that night, as if I wanted to use up all my strength.
After the banquet, I was very cold to Bernard, and when he came to see me again, I was always listless.
He was surprised and felt wronged. "That night I neither cursed at you nor did anything to you. I even went along with you. Why are you ignoring me now?"
"Didn't I say? A man needs a candy and a whip. Now it's my turn to wield the whip." I lay on the bed with my back to him, not wanting to say anything more.
“But you’ve been using your whip for days now, shouldn’t you give me a piece of candy?” He put his arm around my shoulder and said very gently.
I ignored him. He gently nuzzled my face again, rubbing it back and forth, "Did someone upset you?"
I turned around abruptly and touched his face. "All I like is your face."
“I am honored,” he said with a smile.
I hugged him tightly, pulling him close to my chest. "Let's sleep like this, it's fine."
"The supernatural woman suddenly became depressed, which worried the prince greatly. He locked up all the maids who served her and had them questioned one by one by the head maid, but he couldn't get any results." Years later, an old maid recalled what had happened in the underground palace and said to a group of young maids sitting around her, "The supernatural woman had a strange temperament, was unpredictable, and possessive, but she rarely showed it outwardly. Men didn't know what she was thinking, but women could see it clearly."
"What is she thinking?" a maid asked impatiently.
"What else can she think? It's just that she's the only woman the prince has, but that's impossible. The prince can't have only one woman, and he can't marry her. Even if the prince wasn't short of money, he wouldn't marry her because her status is too low, and besides, the prince was short of money at the time. The superpowered woman has no chance at all. It was precisely because she saw this clearly that she stopped having any hope."
“That woman with superpowers might as well just give up and be devoted to the Elf King,” another maid said.
"But the supernatural woman doesn't love the Elf King. She's afraid of him, so how could she love him? A man might fall in love with a woman because he's afraid of her, but a woman never will. However, it's true that the Elf King gave her a title. You're still young and haven't realized how important a title is to a woman in our patriarchal world."
"Doesn't Prince Bernard realize the importance of status for the gifted woman?" another maid couldn't help but ask.
"Of course he knew, but he felt he could give her everything a legal wife had, except for the title. He felt that was enough. But he didn't know that a woman with such high aspirations as the superhuman woman could never be willing to remain a man's mistress forever. Princess Nora knew this, which is why she never harmed the superhuman woman. Princess Nora had harmed several of the prince's mistresses, but she never laid a hand on the superhuman woman. Firstly, she had learned from past mistakes; some mistresses she had harmed had died tragically as a result. Secondly, she knew the superhuman woman would definitely leave on her own. A woman who could conquer a great city and elevate several men to power could never remain a man's mistress forever," the old maid said.
The maid asked, puzzled, "Since Princess Nora knew this, why didn't the prince?"
The old maid chuckled, "The prince knows, but he's always avoiding the topic and never even thinks about it. Besides, he knows the supernatural woman is obsessed with his looks and won't leave him easily. Even if she does leave occasionally, she'll still be with him when he finds her."
The maids exclaimed in admiration, "He really has her wrapped around his little finger!"
"That's right," the old maid sighed.
Nobody is perfect, including me. Once I got entangled with Bernard, I forgot everything else, even my anger that he had a wife and mistress.
He's very good at making me happy, both in and out of bed, so I forget about pressuring him to marry me. Yes, sometimes I do pressure him to marry me, but his sweet words and tenderness always make me forget all about it.
I thought life would continue like this, at least for a while, but I never expected it to be destroyed by the Elf King's powerful attack.
I was asleep that night. It had snowed heavily during the day, and the extremely cold weather had made the ground cold as well. I went to bed early, the fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, and I slept soundly.
I dreamt of the Elf Queen. She was running ahead of me in a long white dress. Just as I was about to call out to her, she suddenly turned around and made a shushing gesture towards me. I immediately fell silent.
Following her at a distance, winding left and right, they arrived at a tightly closed palace. The Elf Queen silently pushed open the door, revealing a throne inside, upon which sat a man fiddling with a book.
As I followed the Elf Queen closer, I saw the man's face clearly—his features were deep-set, his eyes and brows were sunken, and his lips were bright red. I was so shocked that I covered my mouth.
How can they look so alike?! The handsome features resemble Robert Pattinson from the American TV series Vampire, a little like Haya, quite similar to King Midian, and most similar to Worthton.
Worston is the "domineering CEO" of the modern world, the grandson of Mrs. Dorle, whose grandfather was the Westerlands King who traveled to the modern world.
I'm almost certain that Worston is the great-great-great-grandson of this man.
He didn't see us, or rather, he couldn't see us. He was fiddling with the book, muttering to himself, "I have to leave something for my descendants, both money and a way to survive."
This was a genius man. I saw him squat down, pull a yellowed piece of paper from his pocket, and write a few words: "The cycle of life, the cycle of fate." Then he placed the paper under the book.
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