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The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

Getting transmigrated inside a novel is not really a bad thing—you know the story, you have the power of the future in your hand, you know all the hidden keys. You might as well end up as the most powerful and omniscient being in that world. That is, if you don’t wake up during the epilogue. And yet I find myself in the body of a fallen priest at the end of the novel, a tragic hero who had his mana circuit broken in the last war, being shunned, drown in debt, and destined to die not long after. Fortunately, I know just the cure. Unfortunately, the cure was in the hand of one of the Demon Lords—you know, the race that my kingdom just wage war with. Would he give me the cure if I asked him politely? There’s no harm in trying, right? I’d die if I didn’t get the cure, anyway. “Sure, but you have to be my bride as the price,” the Demon Lord said. ...huh? Sir, you know I’m (technically) a priest, right?

Aerlev · LGBT+
Classificações insuficientes
657 Chs

Sometimes, surrendering is the best policy

"I wasn't—I didn't cling to you!"

In my embarrassment, I blurted out such a cliché response. Which was actually more embarrassing than the fact that I did, in fact, cling to him.

"Is that so?" the Demon Lord stood up, then walked toward me casually. He stopped beside me, and waved his hand to clear the spot on the table as he sat there, silver eyes looking down at me. "Shall I remind you, then?"

I laughed nervously. "That is so generous of you, my Lord, but I don't think that would be necessa—"

"Let's see," he cut my word with a merciless gleam in his eyes, a smile piercing through my embarrassment. "You were grabbing my arm so tightly, not letting go even after you threw up all over our clothes,"

Oh my god.

I could only stare at him with pressed lips as he talked with a soothing tone as if reading a children fairy tale. But the content was just fueling the red flush on my face.

"It was so hard cleaning you in that state you know, since you keep grabbing on my arm," he made a distressed face, closing his eyes and shaking in lamentation. Fuck! I was the one who wanted to lament. "Even after I put you in my bed, you keep on touching me, whining 'it's hot, it's hot' like you were on fire or something."

God almighty! Author!

So that was why I ended up in his bed with him? Because I couldn't stop seeking coldness from his skin? Ahh! I almost shrieked as I buried my face in my palms.

A hand found itself on my bowed face and lifted my chin so I had no choice but to look at his face. His thumb was stroking my bitten lower lips, as if telling me I shouldn't do it. "Well, to be fair, you were burning last night."

I wanted to sink into the ground. I wanted to faint a little bit longer than one night, so I could skip this embarrassing description of my shameless conduct. Was it because I was drunk? Or was it some kind of Amrita's side effect?

I had thought that I was already desensitized by being exposed to a shameful appearance. After all, I was under the mercy and care of nurses for the good part of my life. Being bathed and cleaned and dressed, living with a catheter and such...

Well, but...if the one who did it was that young doctor, I'd probably turn into a boiled crab like now, too.

I inhaled slowly, willing myself to stop biting on my lips, and he stopped stroking. His hand moved to tuck my hair away, instead. It was a strange, intimate touch that felt foreign, since I had never experienced it. He gazed straight into my eyes, and the rippling silver orbs made it impossible for me to look away.

"I took such good care of you, don't you think? When I could just get rid of you, maybe making an example to the humans, sending you back in a pretty box. I could play with you, making you dance and bark for me until I get bored, before maybe, maybe give you a drop."

Inside my head, I kept reminding myself that he just played with my fear. And yes, everything he uttered was my fear, my thought as I wrote that damn letter asking to meet him. The thought that I had even as I beg for that cure.

But that was precisely why his words cut deep within me.

Because at the end of the day, he didn't do any of it. And it was making me strange.

He lowered his face, and then lowered his voice. "I know becoming my bride is the condition that I imposed upon you," his tone was, surprisingly, a gentle one. As gentle as the cold fingers stroking the side of my head. "But since I keep my side of the bargain, couldn't you humor me for a bit, Val?"

I hated it.

I hated this.

I hated how much this made my heart shake and tingle. Made my stomach somersaulting. I hated that this made me feel weak. Made me want to surrender.

I hated it more that I had no idea whether it was caused by his ability to play with my mind or the motion of my nostalgic crush.

And I hated my cowardly self that couldn't bring myself to ask him about it, because I felt like he would get upset again if I did. Instead, I asked him something else entirely.

"What should I do from now on?"

It was my white flag declaration, and he knew it, because the smile that formed on his face was a genuine, warm smile that soften the silver gaze.

"Nothing," he retracted his hand from my face, and I blinked in confusion. "All you have to do is stay here and recuperate before I administer you the next dose."

Something about that sentence made me frown because it made me feel like I was back in the hospital ward. But then my mind suddenly remembered something.

Stay here. "Where is here? What is this place?"

It was a question that had been pending all morning, and stupidly shoved to the back of my mind. He wouldn't postpone it again, right?

"Have you done eating?" he asked, looking at my plates. Somehow, even through all that conversation, I managed to clean most of the sample dish Angwi got me.

"Yes,"

"Come with me," he reached out his hand, and I was reminded of last night, when he whisked me away the moment I took the hand. I stared at it for a second before taking it, and his coldness enveloped my palm again.

He didn't whisk me away this time, no black wings and no teleportation. He just pulled me gently into the bed chamber, and for a second I had thought we would end up in a bed again, doing...what?

I heard him chuckle in front of me. "I don't mind, whatever it is you're thinking of,"

My hand tightened in his hold, and I couldn't help but hiss. "Stop sensing my thought!"

"Oh, at least you're not denying it," he turned, and the gaze within the silver eyes was warm, scorching my already burning face.

God, this is so unfair!

"And it's not something I can stop," he said, pulling me past the bed and my traitorous thought, into the door leading to the balcony. "It's my gift, so I can't turn it on and off,"

As he opened the door to the balcony, the bright sunlight was dancing on his face, reflecting on his silvery irises, and it looked so deep and enchanting, heavy and breathtaking.

"It sounds like a burdensome gift," I commented as we passed the door. I thought I felt a squeeze in my hand, but I couldn't know for sure since my attention was immediately drawn to the balcony.

Or rather, the view from the balcony.

I had an inkling when I glanced outside the window earlier, that we were in a high place, since I couldn't see any obstructions like buildings or trees from the window. Instead, there was a strange flying creature passing by. I had thought that maybe we were on the top floor of an inn or something like that, but...

'Where is this?'

We weren't just in a high place. We were in a really really really high place. Yes, I used three 'really's. I had no idea where this was, but I could see that we were on a high floor of a tower. And that tower was located on a cliff. And the cliff was on a plateau.

It was a good thing that I had no fear of heights.

The balcony, thankfully, had a chest-high railing. It was a fairly large space that had a comfortable-looking chaize lounge in a corner, complete with tables, an ottoman, and bright colored funny-looking plantations that made the balcony feel like a mini garden.

What snatched my attention, however, was the flying creatures circling the tower. There were lots of them, each with different colors that made it seem like there was a swirling rainbow on top of the structure. They let out a screeching sound every now and then, which was at first quite shocking, but alright after I got used to it.

When we arrived at the railing, I could see a wide plateau and a rich jungle with vivid, colorful leaves, which made it feel like a swarm of cotton candies. Or colorful broccoli, depending on one's mood. The plateau itself was filled with purple grass and blue stones, this time really looking like candies.

"What the hell..." I cursed reflexively. What kind of computer graphic type of scenery is this?

When I just woke up in this world, I felt like I was in the middle of historical movie filming, the medieval era that was mixed with a little fantasy, like King Arthur or something.

But now...now I felt like I was thrown inside a screen of games that I had played for a bit because I got bored inside the ward. Everything was filled with intense and saturated colors, like something that was created out of an illustrator's wet dream.

Lenaar had been full of snow the last time I was there—which was last night, actually—and it was always felt dark and gloomy for me, what with my predicament and all. But here, there was no snow. The sun shone brightly, and it made everything feel more vibrant.

I had said before that I knew next to nothing about demonkind, much less about demon's territory. But the stories and information had always painted the demon realm as an eerie place. Coincidentally, the territory of Demon Lord of Wrath was full of hard, massive rock and large, scorching deserts, which made it seem cold and suffocating.

But this...

"Where...is this?"

The Demon Lord looked at the vast land, and answered softly. "Welcome to Matsa L'anaak," he turned his head and stared at me with a proud smile. "The realm of greed."