Chapter 125: ¹²⁵An Uninvited Arrival
The wooden wheels of the Valen carriage rumbled steadily, carving through Astrea’s marble streets.
From behind the glass windows, the soft glow of the blue-and-white festival lanterns still filtered into the cabin.
The carriage slowed its pace as it entered the elite district, eventually rolling to a halt in the stone courtyard of The Gilded Dove.
Valera Voss leaped down first. The exotic-skinned knight landed without making a single sound.
Once she confirmed the perimeter was secure, she offered a subtle gesture.
The cabin door swung open. Ethan stepped out, closely followed by Kaelia.
They crossed through the increasingly desolate grounds of The Gilded Dove, ascending the stairs to the third floor.
The moment they stepped into the White Rose Room, Valera locked the double doors tight. She leaned her back against the wall, instantly on high alert.
Kaelia let out a long, heavy breath before collapsing onto the red velvet sofa. "Tch, tonight felt like it lasted a lifetime," she muttered, thoroughly exhausted.
Ethan didn’t bother sitting. He strode over to the large window, drawing the velvet curtains aside just enough to gaze at the main thoroughfare below.
"What’s on your mind, Ethan?" Kaelia asked softly, treading carefully. "You’ve been dead silent since we left Veylor."
Ethan released the curtain, allowing the darkness to swallow the glass once more. He turned, his gaze shifting between Kaelia and Valera.
𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮
"We’re heading out again," Ethan commanded flatly.
Kaelia knitted her brows. "Huh? Out? At this hour?"
"To the Rosenberg estate," Ethan replied coldly. "I’m paying Isolde a visit."
Kaelia and Valera exchanged a fleeting glance. Kaelia bit her lower lip softly—a subtle, sudden pang of jealousy pinching her chest.
"For politics? Is Duke Alaric plotting something after the Colosseum stunt this morning?"
"It’s not about politics," Ethan cut in, grabbing his dark coat. "I just haven’t seen her in a while. I need to make sure my property still remembers her rightful owner."
Valera scoffed loudly from her spot by the door, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Perfect," Valera sneered sarcastically. "We just survived the old dragon’s nest at the Palace, and now My Lord wants to waltz into the northern bear’s den at midnight... just to play around with his wife?"
She flashed a feral smirk. "You really know how to pick your entertainment, My Lord."
Ethan shot Valera a freezing glare that instantly wiped the smirk off her face.
"If you’d rather stand guard outside like a good lapdog, you’re free to stay behind."
Valera clicked her tongue, her jaw tightening as she pushed off the wall. "Tch. I’ll get the carriage ready, My Lord."
Ten minutes later, the wooden Valen carriage was rolling back out into the Astrea night.
From the driver’s seat, Valera steered the black horses with a single hand. Her bandaged right arm rested loosely near her waist, ready to draw.
The city’s scenery shifted as they crossed into a much quieter, far more exclusive noble district.
The carriage pulled up before a towering black iron gate adorned with massive crests of ice roses. The Rosenberg estate radiated a cold, oppressive militaristic aura.
Two heavily armored guards clad in dark blue stood like statues by the entrance. Recognizing the carriage’s occupants, they kept their mouths shut and immediately heaved the colossal gates open.
The carriage rolled right up to the main courtyard.
Ethan stepped out first, with Kaelia and Valera trailing close behind.
An elderly male servant stood waiting by the grand double doors. His face was rigid like a mask, his stark white hair slicked immaculately back.
"Where is Duke Alaric?" Ethan demanded straight away, slicing through the quiet.
"His Grace the Duke is still at the Palace, Lord Valen," the servant replied in a flat monotone, his eyes staring blankly past Ethan’s shoulder.
Ethan cast a brief glance down the dim main hallway. "Then I will see Lady Isolde."
The old servant paused for two agonizing seconds. Offering a stiff bow, he turned on his heel and strode down the right wing’s corridor.
His footsteps were measured, yet Ethan could clearly pick up the faint whispers echoing from the end of the hall. A wooden door clicked open, then shut. Five minutes crept by.
The servant returned, his features as unreadable as before.
"Lady Isolde is willing to receive you," he stated flatly, stepping aside to clear the path. "Right this way, Lord Valen. Her private study is at the far end of the right wing."
Ethan strode forward, his boots sinking into the pale blue carpet laid over the dark stone floors. Kaelia and Valera shadowed him closely.
At the very end of the corridor, a heavy wooden door creaked open.
Isolde von Rosenberg stood framed in the doorway. The Vice Principal of Zenithar Academy looked breathtakingly elegant.
Her platinum-blonde hair cascaded freely, framing her porcelain face. Tonight, her signature gold-rimmed spectacles were nowhere to be seen.
Those icy blue eyes wavered faintly upon meeting Ethan’s gaze. She was clad in a dark blue, heavy silk nightgown that buttoned rigidly all the way to her collarbone—perfectly concealing the black rose root tattoo etched across her back.
At the sight of him, Isolde lowered her head deeply. "Master..." she greeted in a hushed whisper, her voice tinkling like fragile crystal.
Ethan brushed past her without a word of permission, invading her sanctuary. Kaelia and Valera stepped in right behind him.
The study wasn’t overwhelmingly large, but every inch screamed exorbitant wealth. A dark mahogany desk dominated the center, flanked by a black leather sofa set before a dimly burning fireplace.
Ethan planted himself in the center of the room, locking eyes with Isolde as she slowly turned to face him.
"Hmm. Kurt," Ethan stated out of nowhere.
Isolde’s entire body went rigid. Her icy blue eyes blew wide in sheer panic for a fraction of a second before she hurriedly ducked her head again.
"How is that son of yours faring?" Ethan pressed casually, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Isolde swallowed hard, her voice trembling by a hair. "He... is still in the north, Master. Rosenberg’s finest healers are tending to him. He’s recovering."
"My mind hasn’t changed on the matter, Isolde," Ethan declared, his tone plunging to freezing depths. "As long as you remember who owns you, I have no intention of laying another finger on your boy. He’s safe."
A shaky sigh of profound relief escaped Isolde’s lips. "I understand, Master. Thank you for your boundless mercy."
Kaelia stood rooted near the door, rigid as a statue. Valera leaned against the stone wall, staring into the flickering hearth with utter boredom.
Ethan closed the distance. The tips of his polished boots stopped mere inches from the hem of Isolde’s gown.
"It’s been a while since our last private chat, Isolde," Ethan murmured lowly. The absolute dominance bleeding off him made the very air in the room feel suffocating.
Isolde slowly lifted her chin. Those frosty blue eyes clashed with the pitch-black abyss of Ethan’s gaze. The Lust Brand on her back flared to life instantly, a molten heat pulsing through her nervous system.
That sudden surge of carnal magic incinerated whatever was left of her composure. Isolde swallowed dryly, fighting to keep her breathing steady.
Ethan never broke eye contact. "Kaelia. Lock the door."
Kaelia flinched. Staring blankly at Ethan’s back for a moment, she obediently stepped toward the door.
With trembling fingers, the fiery-haired girl twisted the heavy iron lock. Click. Her chest heaved rapidly as a wave of nervous anticipation washed over her.
Valera remained lounging against the wall, though her posture stiffened.
"Kaelia," Ethan commanded, his voice carrying the inescapable weight of absolute authority. "Come here."
Kaelia padded over, stopping dutifully at Ethan’s left side. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs—a chaotic mix of battered aristocratic pride and the demonic lust boiling in her lower belly.
"Strip," Ethan ordered flatly.
Kaelia snapped her head up, desperately searching for even a hint of hesitation in his eyes, but she found nothing but absolute, crushing dominance.
Biting her lower lip, Kaelia’s slender fingers fumbled with the knot of her crimson tunic. The heavy fabric pooled onto the hardwood floor, soon followed by her undergarments.
The elegant, toned physique of the Ashford princess was bared to the room. Her porcelain skin bathed in the warm, flickering glow of the hearth.
Just below her navel, the Lust Brand—shaped like a black, flaming rose—pulsed rhythmically, starved and eager for its Master’s presence.
Ethan shifted his gaze back to the Vice Principal. "You too, Isolde. Strip."
For the proud Ice Archmage, this submission was absolute.
With agonizingly controlled movements, Isolde reached around to undo the clasp at the back of her gown. The heavy, dark blue silk slithered off her shoulders and crumpled onto the floor.
Isolde’s breathtakingly mature figure was laid bare. Upon her porcelain back, the sprawling black rose root tattoo crept from the nape of her neck down to her waist, radiating a hypnotic, magical purple luminescence.
Isolde’s breathing grew shallow and erratic.
Ethan tossed a sideways glance at Valera. "What? Are you waiting for a personalized invitation, Valera?" he taunted, raising a single brow.
Valera let out a throaty hum. "Wouldn’t dream of it, My Lord."
With predatory efficiency, Valera unbuckled her black leather armor. She tossed her heavy belts and weapons carelessly onto the luxury sofa.
Thick black bandages still wrapped tightly around her right forearm, while the fading battle scars on her left shoulder painted a savage contrast against her exotic, muscular physique. On the left side of her neck, the spiraling black rose tattoo throbbed with scorching heat.
Ethan lazily undid the silver buttons of his high-collared tunic. He let his coat and shirt slide off his shoulders and hit the floor, revealing a lean, sculpted chest.
Right over his heart, the Horned Crown tattoo pulsed in sync with his steady heartbeat, weeping a dense crimson aura into the room. The very air grew thick, suffocating, and dripping with intoxicating malice.
"Come here," Ethan ordered.
Pure, unfiltered submission hijacked Isolde’s mind. The Vice Principal sank to her knees, crawling across the hardwood floor until she stopped right between Ethan’s boots.
With her icy blue eyes squeezed shut in desperate reverence, Isolde pressed her lips to the tips of his boots and his knees—a display of total, absolute surrender.
Watching the esteemed Archmage grovel, Kaelia’s aristocratic pride fractured into a million pieces. The ravenous thirst blooming from the fiery black rose on her stomach demanded she do the exact same.
Kaelia dropped to her hands and knees, crawling forward to kneel submissively beside Isolde, her head bowed in defeat.
Valera followed suit. She refused to crawl, instead dropping onto one knee on Ethan’s right side. Her feral golden eyes stared up at him, burning with predatory hunger.
Ethan reached down, his right hand tangling into Isolde’s platinum-blonde hair. He yanked her head back roughly.
Without a word of warning, he thrust his absolute dominance right past Isolde’s parted lips.
Isolde welcomed the invasion desperately. Her eyes squeezed shut, hot breaths escaping through her nose in erratic bursts. Her pale fingers dug into Ethan’s thighs, serving her Master with absolute, slavish devotion.
Beside her, Kaelia could only watch, her face burning crimson, while Valera bit down hard on her lower lip to cage her own wild lust.
Ethan rolled his hips in a punishing, relentless rhythm.
After several agonizing minutes for his audience, Ethan pulled away. Isolde gasped for air, staring up at her Master with glassy, utterly subdued blue eyes.
Ethan didn’t spare her a second glance. He shifted his attention to Kaelia. "Your turn," he commanded.
Kaelia scrambled forward to take Isolde’s place. Blinded by a toxic mix of jealousy and desperation, her movements were clumsy and impulsive.
Ethan instantly seized a fistful of her fiery red hair, yanking her back. "Slow down," he hissed, ice dripping from his tone.
Kaelia froze. "I-I’m sorry... forgive me," she whispered meekly.
When she resumed her task, Kaelia was entirely broken, matching the exact torturous rhythm Ethan demanded without a single shred of resistance.
The second Ethan was finished with Kaelia, Valera’s patience snapped. She rose to her feet, locking her burning golden eyes directly onto Ethan’s.
"Refusing to crawl like the rest of them, Valera?" Ethan taunted, testing his demonic knight.
Valera scoffed, her eyes flashing with untamed ferocity. "I’m not Isolde," she shot back defiantly.
A sadistic smirk carved its way across Ethan’s face. In a blur of motion, he seized Valera by the waist, spun her athletic frame around, and slammed her face-first onto Isolde’s mahogany desk.
Valera braced her upper body against the cold wood using her left arm. Ethan parted her thighs and brutally drove into her without an ounce of mercy.
"Argh!"
A guttural roar ripped from Valera’s throat. Her body, conditioned to shrug off lethal sword strikes, was completely shattered by her Master’s savage invasion.
Ethan drove his hips forward with monstrous strength and blinding speed. The wet, slapping sound of skin colliding echoed violently throughout the study.
Valera took every brutal thrust head-on, her back arching beautifully as absolute, unadulterated pleasure detonated across her nervous system.
From the floor, Isolde and Kaelia could only watch helplessly. The Lust Brands seared onto their flesh throbbed erratically, sympathetically resonating with the brutal pleasure Valera was being force-fed.
Ethan pulled out for a split second, violently flipping Valera onto her back atop the desk. He hooked her toned, exotic legs high into the air and slammed back into her, deeper than before.
Valera’s feral groans shattered the silence. Her left hand clamped onto the edge of the desk with such monstrous force that the expensive mahogany splintered and cracked under her grip.
Far from satisfied, Ethan cast a dark glance over his shoulder. "Come here," he growled.
Isolde and Kaelia instantly scrambled across the floor toward him.
Ethan snatched Isolde by the chin, hauling her up to plant desperate, wet kisses against his neck and collarbone.
Kaelia pulled herself up, wrapping her arms around Ethan’s right thigh, starved for even a fraction of his touch.
Ethan’s right hand clamped down on Isolde’s pale waist while his left hand tangled deep into Kaelia’s red hair. All the while, his hips continued to bombard Valera with an utterly merciless, frenzied rhythm.
The chaotic collision of flesh and the desperate chorus of broken moans filled the Vice Principal’s study, composing a perfect symphony of pure sin.
The Lust Brands etched onto all three women flared to life in unison—Isolde’s ethereal purple, Kaelia’s blazing crimson, and Valera’s dark gold all pulsing brilliantly, illuminating the shadowed room.
Isolde was the first to break. A high-pitched, muffled shriek tore from her lips as her body locked up in absolute ecstasy before she collapsed heavily onto the floor.
Kaelia broke only moments later, biting down hard into the fabric of Ethan’s trousers before sliding down his leg, completely drained.
Valera held out the longest. Even on the edge of breaking, her golden eyes stared up at him in sheer, feral defiance.
Ethan cranked up the speed, unleashing a flurry of brutal, punishing thrusts that completely incinerated whatever sanity Valera had left.
A long, broken wail tore from Valera’s throat. She threw her head back, her athletic body spasming violently before she collapsed flat against the desk, entirely spent and utterly subdued.
Ethan finally pulled away, his breathing only slightly heavier than normal. All around him, the three extraordinary women lay completely paralyzed, utterly broken by their Master’s dominance.