Mess 151
by Cristae151.
After working so hard for a year to improve the relationship between Peonia and Lilia, it turned out that the real mastermind behind the uprising was the Crown Prince.
‘I can’t even trust the original story anymore.’
Even if the banquet passed without incident, there was no telling what that deranged killer might do.
‘Could it be that what happened at the banquet wasn’t even the cause of the rebellion?’
Felikia and X already had more than enough reasons to revolt.
That homicidal Crown Prince could not be allowed to run loose. I was going through all of this precisely to prevent that.
But then, why was the Crown Prince himself trying to start a rebellion?
‘He grew weary. He got impatient.’
What the Empress had said in Iris’s province had been the truth.
The Crown Prince had likely decided to stop waiting to inherit the throne and take it for himself. In the source material, he was a born conqueror, equipped with everything—there was no need for patience.
“Kiss.”
Serapi asked,
“Will the Crown Prince actually stage a coup?”
At such an unexpected and weighty question, Orkis flinched.
“…It’s not entirely impossible.”
But he answered, seriously,
“If I were the Crown Prince, I wouldn’t start a rebellion.”
“Why not?”
“Because the conditions aren’t favorable.”
The Emperor’s power was unmatched by precedent, and his supporters were beyond counting. Even Validus, the one blessed by the gods, had knelt before the Emperor in loyalty. What more need be said?
For the Crown Prince to defy the Emperor now?
“He’d be sabotaging his own reputation, everything he’s built.”
“Hmmm….”
“So.”
Orkis, now standing nearer, gently tapped Serapi’s nose with a finger.
Serapi stared blankly at Orkis’s gentle, subtle smile, as though entranced.
“Maybe you could stop thinking about him so much.”
The words trailed off.
Instead, warmth pressed softly against Serapi’s lips. Her widened blue eyes trembled.
“You could think of me a little, too.”
…What?
Orkis tilted his head in a playful sulk.
“You brat…”
Serapi lightly slapped Orkis’s cheek with both hands. There was no sting, only the gentle touch of affection.
“What else am I supposed to do?”
Orkis muttered, sounding genuinely indignant.
“It seems this is the only way to make you think of me…”
“I’m always thinking about you!”
Flustered, Serapi raised her voice, and only then did Orkis grin in satisfaction.
“Hmph, so is that why you like me?”
“It’s more that I’m so happy I could die.”
“You really are your mother’s son, aren’t you…”
He finds the strangest ways to be smooth.
Serapi felt as if she’d lost, but seeing him smile like that, she figured it hardly mattered.
“Well, as long as we’re here, we might as well kiss again.”
Sitting on the sofa, Serapi spread her arms, inviting him into her embrace with a pointed tilt of her chin.
“What a thing to say…”
This time, it was Orkis’s turn to be nonplussed.
But given how things had come to this—not that he hadn’t planned it—he happily dropped to one knee, lowering himself.
“Why don’t you sit on my lap.”
“Do you want your knee broken?”
“I can certainly manage having my lover on my lap.”
“I’ll wait till you get sturdier for that.”
Orkis quickly leaned in for another kiss.
As always, he began with utmost gentlemanly care. The delicate touch of his lips, like a warm-up stretch before a swim, was gentle but deliberate.
“Mmm….”
But soon, their lips parted and rejoined with intent, and with Serapi’s poor lung capacity, as she came up for air, the real invasion began.
Now, the gentleman’s touch was gone.
Tongues tangled without hesitation, like winding vines, and their breaths grew heavier with growing friction.
“Ha…”
The sound grew warmer, and Orkis’s bent knee slowly rose beneath her.
One hand braced on the sofa arm behind Serapi, the other cradled her face completely.
Serapi found herself thoroughly enveloped.
Moans mingled with lips and tongues, a testament to rising heat.
“Kiss…”
When Orkis grazed the sensitive roof of Serapi’s mouth with his tongue, she shivered even more so than she remembered, her reactions heightened as she let out shaky sounds.
“Ugh!”
The unfamiliar, ticklish heat deep inside her made Serapi press her legs together.
But Orkis, noticing early, slid his hand from the armrest and placed it atop her legs.
Then, little by little, ever so slowly—
“……!”
The tightly joined legs began to part.
“Ah—ha…!”
Startled, Serapi let out a thin, broken cry and stared up at Orkis with wide eyes. At some point, he had positioned himself between her knees, looking down on her.
“…Are we stopping here today?”
Orkis moved his hand over Serapi’s flushed face, trailing his thick fingers over her heated cheeks and wet lips, caressing gently.
And yet, for all his air of composure, his violet eyes glimmered darkly with desire.
“You, you…!”
Mortified, Serapi shivered. What were they doing in broad daylight—worse, in the study!
“What if someone walks in!”
“That’s why I asked if we should stop for today.”
“Don’t kiss my neck as you ask….”
Orkis was now pressing kisses to her neck. Serapi protested weakly, trying to push him away.
In truth, Orkis withdrew of his own accord. From the kiss alone, Serapi was already exhausted.
“What will you do next time, then?”
Orkis furrowed his brow, feigning concern.
“You…!”
Serapi glared. The “next time” in question was all too clear.
“…Well. I’ll manage, somehow.”
Her voice grew smaller, but Serapi did not avoid the subject—in fact, she responded in kind.
“Next time, I’ll be the one to pin you down and make you cry.”
She even added a cheeky warning.
“…….”
Orkis pressed his hands over his face in silence.
Truthfully, he wanted to pin her down and make her cry right now, but for now, he focused on the one thing that would dampen his desires: conjuring up his father’s portrait from his youth.
For the time being, Orkis succeeded in suppressing his lust. The youthful portrait of Duke Felikia was remarkably effective.
“Sera, could you approve this quickly—”
But it wasn’t ideal that, when Luni entered the study, she found Orkis wedged between Serapi’s knees.
“…….”
“…….”
A heavy silence cloaked the room.
“…Sir Felikia.”
Luni said, her voice dry as dust.
“There’s lipstick smeared all over your mouth.”
And not a little, either.
Finally, Orkis rose, moving awkwardly. Serapi, red as a beet, took out a handkerchief and wiped the mess from his lips.
“I seriously don’t know what to say…”
Luni grumbled, dropping a stack of papers on the desk.
“Try to keep your personal and professional lives separate, will you!”
“Oh, like you never fool around with Karl!”
Serapi snapped back, aggrieved. Considering the torture she’d endured from Luni and Karl’s own public displays, Luni had no right to talk.
But Luni had a rebuttal of her own.
“At least I know the time and place! I never went sneaking around and pulled indecent stunts wherever there was an opening, unlike you two!”
“Well, technically I only do it at my place when nobody else is home!”
As Serapi and Luni bickered, each arguing their own case, Orkis quickly straightened his wrinkled clothes and restored his dignified appearance.
“Speaking of which, where’s Karl?”
Orkis, seizing the chance to change the subject, inquired.
“Karl went to the palace,” said Luni.
“You know why…”
She made a vague, cryptic gesture.
The former Marquis of Iris had been officially declared dead, but in truth, she was imprisoned in a very hidden, deep chamber within the palace.
Karl had gone there to see his mother.
“Has she started talking?” Serapi asked with a sigh. Luni shook her head solemnly.
The former marquis was guilty of Glake’s abduction and a string of murders among her own people. Yet she remained alive, as she was now a crucial witness needed to topple the Crown Prince.
But for now, she remained silent. The Emperor had resolved to let Karl attempt to sway her before resorting to torture.
‘Why is he doing this?’
Serapi didn’t trust the former marquis—not that woman, who had tried to murder them all.
If it were up to her, she’d never accept help from such a person. However, given the circumstances, they couldn’t just dispose of someone who was evidence incarnate.
‘If there is a god, let him take care of filth like that…’
And if He handled the Crown Prince and his faction too, all the better.
“Master!”
Suddenly, from outside, Marine called urgently for Serapi.
“Marine? What is it…?”
“Master! Something terrible has happened!”
Marine rushed into the study, flustered—like a bright yellow chick peeping in panic.
“What? Someone wants to kill me?”
Serapi replied blandly.
There was always a waiting list for those wanting to do her in. One more wouldn’t make much difference.
“Tell them to take a number and wait. When it’s their turn, I’ll have them buried alive—”
“There’s a commotion in the square!”
Marine screamed, her face flushed.
“Tara just got back from an errand outside and—well…”
Her bravado faded, and she glanced at Serapi nervously, looking genuinely frightened.
Sensing something was wrong, Serapi stood.
“Bring Tara in.”
Immediately.
Once summoned to the study, Tara told everything she’d seen.
‘Twice a month, the head maid gives us fancier snacks. I was coming back after buying them.’
‘But the square was unusually noisy. People were gathering in one street, whispering to each other.’
‘I went to take a look, curious—’
There was a painting.
By all accounts, a chilling, grotesque picture was hung on a wall at the entrance to the square.
In front of it, a red cord—like the kind seen in museums or galleries—was strung at knee height, and people were crowding behind it, murmuring as they gazed at the artwork.
And everyone who saw it, without exception, said the same thing.