In the emperor's chambers, chaos swirled outside the heavy doors—servants rushing with trunks and maps for the journey to Bukid, voices overlapping in urgent commands. But inside, Arvin ignored it all, his mouth crashing against Mirha's in a breathless kiss, tongues tangling fiercely, his hands gripping her waist to pull her flush against him. Her lips parted under his assault, soft whimpers escaping as he devoured her, tasting the sweetness of her surrender.
With a growl, he scooped her up, her legs wrapping around his hips instinctively, and carried her to the bed in three long strides. He tossed her down onto the silk sheets, her body bouncing lightly, and knelt over her. His fingers hooked into the neckline of her gown, ripping it open with a sharp tear, the fabric splitting down the front to bare her breasts. They spilled free, full and heaving with each pant, nipples already hard peaks begging for his touch.
Arvin dove in, mouth latching onto one breast, sucking hard on the nipple while his hand kneaded the other, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers. Mirha arched off the bed, her mind blanking under the onslaught, lost in the wet heat of his tongue swirling around her flesh, teeth grazing just enough to sting. She panted wildly, soft moans spilling from her throat—'Ah... Arvin...'—her hands fisting the sheets as pleasure shot straight to her core, soaking her thighs.
He switched sides, lavishing the same rough attention on her other breast, sucking until it ached, leaving red marks blooming across her pale skin. Blind with need, Arvin shoved his pants down, his cock springing out—thick, rigid, veins pulsing along its length. He didn't wait, grabbing her thighs to spread them wide, positioning the swollen head at her dripping entrance. One hard thrust buried him deep inside her pussy, stretching her walls around his girth, filling her completely.
Mirha cried out, feeling utterly devoured, his cock plunging so deep she swore she could taste him, every inch claiming her. It was like she'd been starved for this, her body clenching greedily around him, hips bucking up to take more. Arvin groaned, lost in the slick heat of her, her tight walls gripping him like a fist, pulling him in deeper with each snap of his hips. 'You're perfect,' he rasped, thrusting harder, faster, the bed frame slamming against the wall. 'So fucking perfect—mine.' His words hit her like sparks, making her want to scream, her moans turning into desperate sobs as she clawed at his shoulders.
He pounded into her relentlessly, cock dragging against her inner walls, hitting that spot that made her vision blur. Sweat slicked their skin, the room filling with the wet slap of flesh on flesh, her pussy fluttering around him as orgasm built. Arvin's pace faltered, his balls tightening, and with a guttural roar, he nutted deep inside her, hot spurts of cum flooding her core, spilling out around his shaft as he kept thrusting through it, prolonging her own release. Mirha shattered, walls convulsing, milking every drop from him in waves of blinding ecstasy.
Still hard, Arvin pulled out with a slick pop, scooping her limp body into his arms and carrying her to the bathing room. Steam rose from the filled pool, but he didn't care—bending her over the edge, he slammed back into her from behind, water sloshing as he fucked her against the stone. His hands gripped her hips, bruising, cock pistoning in and out of her cum-slick pussy, deeper in this angle, making her scream his name. She pushed back, meeting each brutal thrust, the burn of overstimulation twisting into fresh pleasure until she came again, trembling.
Arvin followed, grunting as he emptied into her once more, cum dripping down her legs into the water. Only then did he ease them both into the warm bath, his hands gentle now, washing her body with slow strokes—fingers tracing her breasts, between her thighs, cleaning the evidence of their frenzy while she leaned against him, boneless.
The lanterns were dim, the curtains drawn against the night air. The room still held the warmth of bodies and the faint scent of the oils used earlier in the bath.
Arvin lay back against the pillows, one arm resting loosely around Mirha. She was half draped over him, her head resting on his shoulder as she tried to stay awake.
Tried and failed.
He glanced down at her when he felt her breathing slow.
"Are you actually awake?" he asked lightly.
Mirha made a sleepy noise that was probably meant to be a yes.
Her eyes were already closing.
Arvin shook his head with a quiet chuckle.
"We leave tomorrow," he said. "Are you ready for the journey?"
Mirha shifted slightly, pressing her cheek deeper into the pillow beside him.
"…Yes," she murmured, though it sounded more like a dream than an answer.
There was a long pause.
Then, almost as if the thought slipped out before sleep fully claimed her, she added quietly,
"I want to see mama."
Arvin looked at her for a moment.
The way she said it was simple. Not dramatic. Just honest.
His hand moved absent-mindedly through her hair before he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to her forehead.
"Sleep," he said softly.
Mirha didn't answer.
She was already gone.
Arvin let out a quiet breath and adjusted the blanket over her shoulder.
"Goodnight, Mirha."
Mirha was fast asleep when he left. He had waited a moment, watching her breathing even out before carefully getting out of bed so he wouldn't wake her. The corridor outside was dimly lit, most of the servants already dismissed for the night.
He walked through the familiar halls toward his study.
When he pushed the door open, he found Heman already inside.
His friend stood near the table, several documents spread out before him, though it was clear he had been waiting.
Arvin leaned against the doorframe for a moment before stepping in.
"Why are you not with your wife?" Arvin asked casually.
Heman didn't look up immediately as he finished sealing a document.
"I had some matters to finalize," he replied calmly.
Then he lifted his gaze, studying Arvin briefly.
"And you?" Heman added. "Why are you not with your precious lady tonight?"
Arvin let out a short chuckle as he moved to sit behind his desk.
"I put her to sleep."
Heman gave him a knowing look.
The kind that said he understood far more than Arvin had explained.
Arvin ignored it and leaned back in his chair.
"Well?" he asked.
Heman folded his hands behind his back.
"I looked into what you asked."
Arvin's expression sharpened slightly.
"And?"
Heman spoke plainly.
"From what I gathered, they were seen drinking together earlier that night."
Arvin listened without interrupting.
"The guards later saw them walk into Lord Kaisen's chambers together," Heman continued. "They appeared completely sober. That is why no one stopped them."
Arvin leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet breath.
"Well," he said. "That sums it up then."
His tone was dismissive.
"They were reckless."
But Heman didn't agree.
"Not quite," he said.
Arvin's eyes lifted toward him.
Heman paused for a moment before adding,
"Lady Kanha was the one who gave the wine to Lord Kaisen."
The room went still.
Arvin slowly straightened in his chair.
His gaze fixed on Heman.
"…What?"
Heman did not repeat himself. Instead, he walked slowly toward the desk, resting one hand lightly on its edge as if arranging his thoughts before speaking further.
"The tricky part," he said carefully, "is that the wine itself wasn't suspicious."
Arvin's brows pulled together slightly.
"It was served at the banquet. From the same table everyone else drank from."
He leaned back in his chair, watching Heman closely.
"So?"
Heman continued.
"The guards and servants all confirm the same thing," he said. "Lady Kanha poured the wine herself and handed the cup to Lord Kaisen."
Arvin tapped a finger lightly against the armrest of his chair, thinking.
"That proves nothing."
"No," Heman agreed calmly. "It doesn't."
He straightened again, his voice thoughtful.
"But it does make things… complicated."
Arvin gestured for him to continue.
"If the wine had been tampered with beforehand," Heman said, "it would mean someone had access to the banquet preparations."
Arvin's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And?"
"And there is no evidence of that."
Heman paused before finishing his thought.
"So if the wine was drugged… it would have had to happen after it was served."
Arvin understood immediately where the thought was going.
He leaned forward slightly now.
"And she wouldn't have had time."
"Exactly."
Heman crossed his arms loosely.
"The servants say she poured the wine and handed it to him almost immediately."
The room fell quiet.
Arvin looked down at the desk, his mind moving quickly through possibilities.
"Meaning?" he asked finally.
Heman met his gaze.
"If she drugged it," he said evenly, "then it wasn't something done impulsively."
He let the implication hang for a moment before finishing.
"It would have been planned."