Chapter 15-Andy Wood

Ten days later.

The birthday ball of the First Prince of the Eastern Holy Land was grand and lively.

Before the sky darkened, the entire palace was already brilliantly lit. Magic-powered lamps adorned the pathways and gardens generously, while tens of thousands of stars shone on the domed ceiling of the banquet hall. Carriages bearing different family crests drove through the outer gates, and elegantly dressed ladies held fans, leaning on their husbands or brothers' arms as they were escorted into the splendid hall by servants.

Margaret arrived with her father, but they did not ride together. Duke Russell brought his favorite mistress, so Margaret had to ride alone in a carriage and tried to distance herself from her father.

As she disembarked, an embarrassing incident occurred.

The strap on the right side of her panties suddenly came loose.

"Miss Margaret?"

Damon stood at the front of the carriage, calling her with slight confusion.

Margaret pretended to adjust her skirt and discreetly pressed the loose strap against her waist with her wrist. She glanced at her personal guard and smiled faintly.

"I'll go in. You don't have to wait outside all the time. You can go elsewhere for a stroll."

Douglas didn't like orcs, so Damon couldn't enter the banquet hall. In fact, there were very few orc attendants in the entire palace. Damon's presence here had already attracted the attention of many guests, including bold and enthusiastic ladies who threw flirtatious glances at him.

However, he remained indifferent to his surroundings, cleared his throat, and simply said, "Enjoy yourself."

Today, Margaret wore a light-colored waist-clinching gown, with her platinum hair tied into a low-hanging bud, a few curly tendrils framing her temples. Her eyes were gentle, her lips curved in a smile, seemingly her usual style at first glance. But upon closer observation, one would notice that the Duke's daughter's attire was no longer conservative; the fabric hugged her waist, and the neckline was an elegant off-shoulder style. Standing amidst the dim twilight and the bright lights, she resembled a pearl adorned with morning dew, impossible to ignore.

"You look beautiful today."

Those words lingered on Damon's tongue, rolled a few times, and ultimately vanished into silence. He silently watched her walk towards the hall. A handsome young man with dark hair was standing at the entrance, extending his right hand adorned with white gloves, gently clasping Margaret's fingertips.

"Miss White, you look beautiful today," Douglas praised softly, leading her inside. "I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up earlier. It's been a busy day."

Margaret stepped back slightly, deliberately creating some distance, and smiled as she replied, "It's okay, Douglas. Happy birthday."

In the past few days, she had locked herself in the laboratory, and before leaving, she accidentally exploded a crucible, getting doused in mandrake juice. Despite taking a bath and spraying perfume, she still felt a faint hallucinogenic scent lingering on her body due to psychological effects.

"I'd like to freshen up in the lounge first," Margaret expressed apologetically. "Is that alright?"

"Of course," Douglas nodded, instructing a waiter to escort her upstairs. Margaret tightened the straps inside her dress and climbed the spiral staircase at a leisurely pace, exchanging greetings with acquaintances along the way as if nothing had happened.

Entering the lounge, she finally lifted her tired right hand, removed the slightly tight gown, and adjusted the loose strap on her underwear. The new dress was rushed, and she hadn't had time to properly adjust it, so she took this opportunity to relax.

The window of the room faced the courtyard, and the glass panes were illuminated by the lights, casting a colorful glow.

Margaret sat on the plush bench, wearing only her slip and kicking off her high heels. She grabbed a cherry from the fruit tray, just as she took a bite, the door was pushed open.

A well-dressed young man walked in, locking the door behind him, and spoke with lowered eyes.

"Lady Percy, would you be interested in getting to know me?"

The man had an elegantly charming voice, akin to that of a cello. His jet-black curly hair was tied back with a ribbon, and his features were both beautiful and androgynous. His skin was very pale, with faint blue veins visible on his neck.

As he spoke, his lowered feathered lashes trembled slightly, as if suppressing anxiety. Yet his graceful lips curved into a smile that could seduce anyone.

"Would you... be willing to let me become your lover?"

Crunch.

The deep red cherry crushed between her lips, filling her mouth with its sweet and tangy aroma.

Margaret placed the leftover pit and stem back into the designated dish, leisurely wiping the corners of her lips with a handkerchief before raising her eyes to look at the man.

A certain youthful face from her memories gradually overlapped with the man before her.

Andy.

Andy Wood.

Margaret had started attending parties at a very young age.

As a noble child, she frequently received invitations to socialize with children from other families. Occasionally, she would also invite them to the Duke's mansion.

Although they were supposed to play, most of the time they would sit in elegant chairs, adopting adult-like postures while indulging in afternoon tea pastries. The girls would engage in trivial conversations about topics like the weather, the latest hat styles in the capital, or the symbolic meanings of their jewelry.

Like naive nightingales, the girls would try their best to mimic the manners of ladies, but couldn't resist taking a few extra bites of cake or stirring bitter dark chocolate into their tea. When bored, they would laughingly tease the young masters reading nearby.

"Andy, why don't you come over and chat with us?"

"Andy, try this dessert! You'll love it."

The young man sitting in the shade of a tree possessed extraordinarily handsome features. He wore an ivory-white vintage shirt, striped shorts, and a deep blue satin ribbon tied around his collar. His fair fingers, nearly translucent, peeked out from the folds of his piled-up sleeves as he held down the fluttering pages of a book.

Amidst the girls' laughter, he lifted his eyelids, and his emerald green pupils shimmered with a soft and resigned light.

"Let me finish this book."

He was the young master of the Wood family.

The Wood family had once flourished in the Eastern Holy Land. If things went as expected, Andy would inherit his father's earldom and marry a certain nobleman's daughter. Therefore, the laughter and chatter of the girls held a shy sense of closeness.

However, the Wood family soon fell into disgrace. When Margaret was ten years old, the city guard broke into the Wood family's castle and discovered a large number of girls' corpses in the basement. The sensational serial kidnapping case was finally solved, and the Earl of Wood was found to be the culprit, sentenced to death. His title was stripped, his wife passed away, and the entire estate was confiscated.

The Wood family fell from grace, and the once-popular young master Andy was now shunned by everyone.

Many years later, Margaret saw Andy again.

The beautiful young master had grown into a handsome man, with the same elegant and gentle demeanor in his speech. But his request was shamelessly sycophantic.

He didn't even dare to raise his head to look at the woman sitting on the bench.

"lady Percy..." Andy's voice gradually became hoarse. The silence made him feel embarrassed, and his previous smile disappeared. "Could you please... inspect the goods first... I... I'm clean."

Margaret noticed that although his suit was tidy, the fabric was somewhat worn. His fingertips, pinching the sleeve cuffs, were starting to turn pale.

"Why don't you look at me?" Margaret asked softly. "If you had carefully looked around, you wouldn't have walked into the wrong room."

As the words left her lips, Andy raised his head in shock, his face drained of color.

"...Miss White?"

He actually recognized her.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I made a mistake!" Andy panicked, averting his gaze and fumbling with the door lock. He was too nervous, and despite pulling the latch several times, he couldn't open it smoothly.

When the door lock finally clicked crisply, he calmed down.

"Miss White." 

Andy didn't turn around, took a deep breath, "I'm truly sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I hope you don't mind, could you wait a little longer if you intend to punish me? Tonight's ball is too important to me." 

Barging into the resting room of the first prince's fiancée, encountering a young lady in just a chemise, and uttering vulgar words. 

These actions were enough to get him kicked out of the palace, never to step into noble circles again. 

But Margaret simply picked up a cherry and asked, "Your so-called importance is to find Madam Percy and convince her to take you as her lover?" 

Andy closed his eyes for a moment, then answered with difficulty, "Yes." 

"Do you like her?" 

"No... it's not a matter of liking or not." 

Andy paused for a moment, his voice becoming softer, "I need money." 

Margaret understood. The impoverished young master decided to sell his body in exchange for money. She bit into the plump, juicy cherry, lightly grinding the crimson skin with her teeth. The lady who enjoyed keeping lovers, called Percy, was only one in the capital. 

And this lady Percy, whom they had just met on the stairs, exchanged greetings with each other. 

"Percy has brought a new lover, didn't you see?" 

Margaret kindly reminded him, "Even if you find her tonight, she won't pay attention to you." Andy fell silent for a few seconds, gripping the door handle tightly, "I have to try."

"Is that so?" Margaret remained silent. Laughter and cheerful voices came from downstairs, the booming voice of Duke Russell was unmistakable. 

Her wretched father seemed to be chatting with Douglas, his exaggerated words almost seeping through the door crack. 

Margaret finished the sweet and sour cherry, playing with the stem with her fingers, her eyes half-lidded, making it difficult to discern her emotions. 

"You'd better request me," she said, "Try to please me, and strive to become my lover." 

Andy's spine stiffened, standing in front of the door for a long while before responding with a helpless tone, "Please, don't joke with me." 

His tone was no different from years ago. As if time had turned back to a sunny afternoon. 

Margaret sat in a round chair, tasting tea, while he hid in the shade, flipping through thick poetry books. 

"I'm not joking," Margaret pressed the cherry stem forcefully, snapping it into two pieces. Douglas's warnings turned into a kind of viscous mud, slowly crawling through her heart, leaving behind a gloomy atmosphere.

After marriage, I won't seek out mistresses, and please don't abandon your past virtues.

I probably don't need to worry about you, after all, you are a lady of the White family. 

Damn his ancestors' dog shit virtues.

Margaret curved her crimson lips, her voice wrapped in honeyed hooks, "Andy, I'll give you five seconds to consider."

Five seconds. Douglas's voice murmured faintly. 

He was discussing recent economic issues with ministers. Three seconds. Brilliant magical fireworks exploded in the sky above the palace. 

One second. In those memories of gentle days, the boy sitting in the shade reading finally became a phantom, twisting and disappearing. 

Andy turned around, stepping towards Margaret, and knelt in front of the long bench. 

He gently apologized and then parted her knees, planting a series of moist kisses on the bare thighs. His elegantly shaped lips grazed towards her core, kissing her petals through the lace panties. Margaret didn't refuse. 

She had been watching him all along, wanting to see how far he would go. The black-haired, green-eyed man used his teeth to pull aside the damp fabric. He lifted his beautiful eyes, his expression slightly embarrassed, yet still with a familiar indulgence. 

Margaret finally remembered, at the end of a certain gathering, the quiet boy stood in the dappled shade, handing her the heavy poetry book. Would you like to read it?

That was the only time the young master wanted to share his world with someone. Andy's voice was moist and gentle. "I hope I can please you." 

He lowered his head, his soft lips and tongue licking her petals, his warm breath spraying over her sensitive bud. 

Margaret couldn't help but grab his jet-black curls, her waist spasming in waves. Amidst the ensuing strange pleasure, she heard the man's blurred whisper. 

"I'm willing to be your lover."