Lust Devil's Rise

By midday, Babylon’s manor appeared beyond the rising land.

Old stone walls surrounded the estate, patched in several places and darker than Luka remembered. Smoke rose from the kitchens. Servants moved through the yard. Knights stood near the entrance in cleaner armour than expected.

And beneath the manor’s front arch stood Ironhold’s banners.

Deep blue cloth.

Silver trim.

A black tower marked upon a mountain.

Beside them, wagons were being unloaded.

Crates of grain.

Barrels of medicine.

Bundles of treated leather.

Several women in healer robes guided the servants toward the side hall; despite speaking briskly, they didn’t treat them badly.

Luka slowed Furia.

"So she really came to help."

Galatea froze on her horse with an ugly expression.

"Why... this isn’t how it should be..."

Her expression was so strange that even Luvia didn’t mock or make fun of her.

Luka wanted to speak, but the manor doors opened slowly, before something slammed them open and rushed out.

A woman stepped out.

The courtyard seemed to quieten around her.

Lady Vivienne Aldebaran of Ironhold wore a pale travelling gown beneath a fitted blue mantle, her dark hair braided with silver ornaments that caught the sun whenever she moved. Her features were delicate, refined, and almost too composed.

But her eyes ruined the illusion.

Those eyes were neither cold nor arrogant.

They were hungry and bright, like a starving wild beast finding prey.

Fixed entirely on Luka.

For a second, his chest tightened.

Another phantom pain passed through his body like a jolt of lightning.

The original body’s memories stirred, while weak and fevered, a strange girl showed up beside the window... and spoke to him.

They were only kids.

Yet, she stayed with him for hours.

She would gently stroke his pale cheeks, lips and then whisper strange things into his ears.

Things like:

"You are mine..."

"I’ve finally found you, my prince!"

At the top of the stairs, she sighed upon seeing him. Vivienne lifted her skirt slightly and walked down the steps.

Though she didn’t rush, it was clear she was excited.

Her movements were perfect.

She resembled the graceful nobles one would dream of or read about.

Vivienne stopped a few steps in front of Furia as Luka jumped down to her level.

The pair glanced into each other’s eyes as she fluidly opened her arms and stepped closer.

"My dear Luka."

Her voice was gentle, like silk brushing across his earlobes.

"I heard that something happened in Amol... your father’s passing and that the knights rode out at dawn... so I rushed here, worried you might be injured... Alas..."

She looked up at him, her smile trembling with sweetness as she closed the distance, hugging him tightly around the neck.

Her body smelled like roses with a hint of berries.

"You seem to have grown into a wonderful man since we last met."

"Lady Vivienne, it isn’t proper to act this way in public..."

Vivienne’s eyes softened.

"Oh? So distant. I can’t seem to control myself whenever it comes to you."

’This woman... she’s strong!’

Luka could feel her strength as she clung to his back, sinking her nails into his leather armour. Yet, there was no sense of danger, miasma or malice coming from her; it was pure, like an icy stream.

Vivienne’s smile didn’t fade despite his rejection; if anything, it became softer and sweeter.

He couldn’t help but feel the danger.

She lifted one gloved hand and placed it against his chest, right above his heart, as if the servants, knights and guests around them didn’t exist.

"After all these years, you still call me Lady Vivienne?"

Her fingers pressed slightly against his flesh.

"How cruel, my dear husband."

The courtyard fell silent.

A servant carrying medicine froze near the wagon, then began to gossip. One of Babylon’s knights coughed into his fist, while several Ironhold guards looked away as if used to this behaviour.

Luka stared down at the woman clinging to him.

Her body was warm, soft and sweet.

Luka’s original memories stirred again, oozing with her copious amount of affection and forceful nature. He couldn’t help but want more... his heart pounded beneath her palms, causing her lips to tremble and eyes to gleam with an eerie light.

"Dear husband, call me ViVi~ okay?"

For a lower-ranked noble to call the daughter of a duke in such a way was nonsense; he could get into trouble with the other nobles, and should the king hear it...

And yet, Luka didn’t care.

Luka exhaled slowly.

"Vivienne."

Her smile twisted, slightly deforming before it recovered.

"That’s a little better..."

"Lady Vivienne."

The smile vanished from her eyes, despite her lips remaining still.

However, he quickly followed up.

He wrapped his arm around her slim waist, hugging her body close enough that he could feel the soft bumps of her chest. "Babylon has too many eyes today, my dear princess. I would rather not begin my rule by turning the courtyard into a theatre. You are more precious to me than something so vulgar."

For a moment, there was silence.

Vivienne didn’t respond and only buried her face in his neck as she trembled.

’Did I lay it on too thick?!’

"Oh?"

Vivienne tilted her head, her dark eyes tracing his face with open delight.

She seductively traced her bright red lips with her tongue before pulling away slightly.

"I guess even you care about appearances now, fufufu..."

Luka didn’t want the situation to become bad.

So he continued his attempt to match the previous Luka’s affection, and increase it to the level of a grown male who reached adulthood.

"I care about you."

Her eyes shimmered with a dark light.

"How wonderful."

She stepped closer, even closer than before, as her voice dropped into a sweetly affectionate voice oozing with delicate intimacy.

"You really have become a man."

Luka’s chest tightened as she pulled away.

He didn’t know if it was his own attraction or the previous owners.

Galatea watched on with a lump in her throat, struggling to understand the situation.

To both her and Luka, the previous words, Babylon received no help from this terrifying lady; not a single soul came to the aid after Luka’s death. It was a strange sight, causing both of them to be both gracious and cautious.

He looked over her shoulder, toward the wagons being unloaded.

"Babylon accepts Ironhold’s kindness."

Vivienne’s eyes curved.

"Not Ironhold’s."

She tapped his chest once before tracing the shape of a heart around his emblem.

"Mine. Everything is from my personal treasury, and my father has no idea."

Before Luka could answer, armoured footsteps rang across the courtyard.

A handsome blonde knight stepped away from the Ironhold escort, wearing polished armour too clean for a battlefield. His gaze swept over Babylon’s patched walls with obvious contempt before landing on Galatea.

There was a moment of silence as he clearly ogled her.

Since it was a short ride, she wore only a simple blue gambeson without her armour, emphasising her large chest and thighs. With beads of sweat lingering from the afternoon heat, few men could resist such a beauty.

His eyes traced her armour, her waist, the curve of her chest beneath the fitted gambeson, before his mouth curled with crude interest.

Galatea’s eyes became sharp as she snorted, shifting her hand nearer to her blade.

Luka’s expression cooled, and finally, the knight glanced at him before scoffing and completely ignoring him as if noticing an obstacle.

’I don’t like this bastard...’

"Rejoice, Lord Babylon."

His voice carried the polish of court training, but there was no trace of respect.

"I bear a decree from the Crown."