Chapter 32

Nephitia leaned back against the silk cushion once more, wondering if she had simply seen things wrong. The temple’s inner courtyard was already packed to the brim with people. Flags of all colors fluttered in the wind, and shields bearing the coats of arms of various kingdoms flashed under the sunlight. A chariot dangling with clusters of red rubies, a green palanquin carved with wave patterns, and a matte silver, unpolished chariot that looked like a crude gray boulder were all tangled together. In between them, hundreds of attendants moved busily, shouting and waving their arms to organize the formations in a noisy commotion.

“Stop at a suitable spot.”

“Princess, this is the procession of Kepet; how could we haltingly stop in a corner like this? We must position ourselves more centrally than the others…”

“That is not important. Pull up near the entrance and turn back.”

At Nephitia’s command, the procession drifted to the side and stopped near the entrance. Stepping down by treading on the backs of the men, Nephitia had thought that if she waited around here, she might just catch a glimpse of Solinar’s procession.

“Tell Shadia. She is to bring the tributes to the priests right this way. I will rest in the shade here for a moment, so make the preparations.”

“As you command, Princess.”

Skillfully shaking off Shadia, Nephitia tried to find a decent spot to settle down and wait for Arkin. It was right at that moment that the red-haired, armor-clad Prince of Igninov lunged forward in front of Nephitia and blocked her path.

“Who could this be? Is it not Princess Nephitia of Kepet?”

His metallic voice was as sharp as a blade. A man resembling a ball of fire strode up and paid his respects to Nephitia with deliberate courtesy. His hair was as red as if engulfed in flames, and his intense eyes were similarly crimson.

“Who are you?”

Nephitia looked at him with a hint of wariness.

“I am merely a man who has long adored a beautiful princess. It is somewhat disappointing that you reveal your gorgeous presence before me only now.”

He smiled softly and stared intently at Nephitia. His elongated eyes and burning gaze were fierce and seductive, yet carried a cunning impression all the same.

“I did not ask about your circumstances; I asked for your name.”

“Ah, of course. Allow me to introduce myself. O great princess of Kepet blessed by the sun, the great desert monarch who shall one day ascend the throne. I, who have come to seek you out, am—”

He dropped to one knee, pulled Nephitia’s hand toward him, and pressed his lips to it. With a sharp smack, his lips parted, and Nephitia’s brows overtly furrowed.

“Prince Draconis, hailing from the Fire Kingdom of Igninov. I have longed to meet you at least once.”

Nephitia attempted to pull her hand away from him, but Draconis refused to let go and continued speaking.

“Surely the dear Princess Nephitia is well-acquainted with my homeland of Igninov as well? Given the friendly relations between our two nations, I imagine King Mahati must have spoken of it often.”

“I… do not know much about your homeland.”

Nephitia replied, blinking her eyes slowly. A strange sensation stirred faintly from the hand clasped in his. While the prince’s eyes remained fixed upon her as if pinned in place, she even felt a fleeting sense that she could escape nowhere. It was a sensation eerily similar to the one she felt when facing Arkin.

Yet why was it? I find this man unwelcome…

Enduring the queasiness in her stomach, Nephitia tried to tug her trapped fingers free, but it was no easy feat. The red-haired prince was gripping her slender fingers with a gaze dripping with lingering attachment.

“I offered prayers at the temple every single day, but it seems the gods failed to convey my heart to you.”

Draconis let out a low whistle.

“And so, I have awaited this very day. I knew I would see you in this exact form, in this exact place. After all, the princess has constantly appeared in my dreams.”

As Draconis dragged the corners of his lips far up, dimples sank deep into his cheeks. The sensation transmitted to Nephitia’s hand grew slightly stronger than before. It felt like the ringing thrum when a hand touches a heavily struck piece of iron. Nephitia looked down at him without a word.

“Everything is according to my expectations. Do you feel this sensation passing between our clasped hands right now, Princess?”

His two red pupils stared intently at Nephitia, as if determined not to let her out of his sight. Staring hard at Nephitia, he slowly lowered his voice. The fingers of Draconis gripping Nephitia’s hand twitched by increments.

Nephitia cast her eyes downward. She could still feel it. Draconis’s hand, with fingers like thin, long spider legs, was effortlessly wrapping around her wrist. An unseen force was trapped within that grip. It sent a tingling, vibrating jolt across Nephitia’s skin before scratching at it, and then every now and then, it would press heavily into the center of her palm as if crushing it in a dull, steady push.

“I have heard the prophecy. That you and I, Nephitia of the Kepet Kingdom—we are ‘Hetasept’, soulmates.”

The man’s short fingernails lightly brushed and tickled as they traced across her palm. Nephitia watched him carefully, falling into thought. Just where on earth had this fellow gathered information about Hetasept? What was this feeling, and why had he shown up right before her as if timed precisely for this moment?

“If we were to join our bodies, something quite delightful would surely happen. We would become a pair tasting an ultimate pleasure that does not exist on this earth.”

Nephitia’s eyes narrowed into slits. Draconis smiled with a gaze drenched in lust.

“If one is going to couple bodies, shouldn’t it be all the more satisfying the more noble and exalted the man is? Besides, am I not the Prince of Igninov?”

The Prince of Fire fondled Nephitia’s hand lingeringly, wearing a loose, easygoing smile.

“Just say the word anytime, Princess. Pushing all other trivial things aside, if I could enjoy you in secret, just the two of us, I would do anything. I am confident.”

The princess’s gaze slowly swept down Draconis’s body. It was difficult to read the thoughts behind her downcast, expressionless eyes, but Draconis found his own body heating up at that look, causing him to lick his lips. Teeming with anticipation, he whispered secretly.

“I will grant you pleasure until the long night is entirely spent. We will burn through the night until the bedframe breaks, and when morning comes, that soft voice of yours will be completely hoarse.”

“…I will consider it.”

Nephitia replied briefly. Having wrung an answer out of the princess, Draconis departed with a thoroughly satisfied expression, and Nephitia watched the Igninov prince retreat, flanked by his sturdy guards, for a long time. Petals scattered by Floria’s flower carriage poured down like rain over Nephitia’s head as she sank deep into thought.

The dining hall, which had fallen as silent as the grave, was filled entirely with Nephitia’s mocking voice ridiculing Draconis.

“You certainly said so yourself back then, that ‘if we join our bodies, something quite delightful will happen.’”

Draconis was flustered and didn’t know what to do with himself. Embarrassment and fury churned together, wavering within his red pupils.

“When did I ever…? I didn’t act that abjectly…”

Even as Draconis waved his hands to protest, the surroundings had already grown as chaotic as a poked hornet’s nest, making it impossible to restore order. Eventually, Draconis whipped his head around and shouted fiercely.

“Shut your traps, all of you! What I said back then was…”

He needed to salvage the situation, but lacking anything to say, Draconis’s red eyes twisted menacingly. Nephitia thrust her face right up to the tip of his nose and mocked him to her heart’s content.

“Was it perhaps because you hoped to bed me and somehow secure some national interest? I suppose one ought to call it an extraordinary patriotic spirit, quite fitting for someone destined to be master of the throne.”

As a few people struggled to suppress their laughter, Draconis gnashed his teeth furiously.

“It was merely a joke, but you’re reading far too much meaning into it.”

“Anyone who had witnessed us back then would not have thought for a single second that the prince was joking. Because…”

Nephitia smiled and swept a glance around the dining hall.

“This fellow was thoroughly rutting over me. His lower garments were swollen as if they were about to burst, you see.”

Seemingly never having imagined that Nephitia would publicly divulge her conversation with him, Draconis’s face flushed entirely crimson. Sparks flew from his eyes.

“I was—”

“In the end, whether viewed this way or that, it only leads to the conclusion that the prince is nothing more than a cheap male courtesan. With this, your prestige has plummeted to the dust and the reputation of your homeland, Igninov, has been tarnished—truly a matter of deep regret and utter pity.”

Nephitia delivered her final verdict, laden with a gaze of contempt.

“Ah, dammit.”

He had suffered a crushing defeat. He hadn’t even recovered his principal investment and had ended up only making a fool of himself.

“Princess of Kepet, you will regret today’s business.”

Biting his lip hard and sweeping back his hair, he ultimately stormed out of the dining hall. The moment he roughly wrenched the door open and slammed it shut with a loud bang, the interior of the dining hall fell deathly quiet.