"Dear Duke, are you looking down on us lower-ranking nobles? You can't even accept this small gift?"
As Lin Ge spoke with his head down, a wicked smile involuntarily crept onto his lips. His voice wasn't loud, but it was just loud enough for others to hear.
Sehir secretly tightened his fingers, his fair fingertips turning pink from the grip. After a second's pause, he took the red wine from Linger's hand and took a small sip under his gaze.
Looking at Sesil's slightly raised chin and flawless neck, a hint of infatuation flashed in Ling's eyes.
"Thank you for the honor, Your Grace." Linger bowed casually, but his eyes were full of frivolity.
Sehir picked up a sip of red wine from the corner of his lips with the tip of his tongue, then immediately turned and left.
But after walking only a few steps, I felt a burning sensation in my lower abdomen, which went all the way to my throat, and I even felt a little dizzy.
Sehir leaned against the wall for a while to rest, then started walking forward again, the things in front of him already appearing as double images.
The sinister gaze behind him was fixed on Cecil's silhouette, a handsome smile curving his lips.
It seems the medicine is about to take effect.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ling propped himself up on his elbow, swirled the red wine in his hand, and turned to look at Isri in the distance.
He was all too familiar with Isri's gaze just now; it was the gaze unique to hunters like them. Ling raised his glass, met Isri's gaze, and swirled it slightly in the air.
It seems they've set their sights on the same prey.
The amusement in Ling's eyes deepened. After taking a sip of his drink, he looked down again, but Isri had already disappeared.
It seems the competitors want to make the first move.
Linger smiled, downed a glass of red wine, turned around, and headed in the direction Cecil had fled.
~
Cecil walked quickly, feeling something was wrong with his body, and his eyes grew even colder.
This was such a great opportunity, he didn't want to miss it at all. He had to escape, anywhere, he had to get away from that madman.
Sehir walked into the forest, but after a few steps he started running. Going out now would be too conspicuous and he would be easily discovered.
The forest was the best option for the time being. Sesil was panting heavily, his vision blurred even more, and he stumbled and almost fell several times.
Sehir hid in a clump of grass, raised his hand to press against a tree, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his whole body was so hot that he almost fainted.
Sehir gripped the silver note in his hand, took a deep breath, and continued walking forward.
There must be something wrong with the drink that Ling gave him earlier.
His vision was blurry, and he had circled back to the starting point several times. Cecil frowned and stood there, unconsciously pulling open his collar to let in the cold air as quickly as possible.
Suddenly, a chilling sound came from behind him, startling Sesil.
"Young Master, are you feeling unwell?" Lin Ge asked in a teasing voice.
Sesil abruptly turned his head, his pupils dilating in shock. The amused look on Linger's face instantly heightened Sesil's disgust.
Without saying a word, Sehir turned and ran. In a place like this, all those ridiculous rules among nobles were just for show; it was better to just run faster.
Linger was in no hurry at all, leisurely stepping on the leaves as he followed behind Cecil.
That face, stained like rouge, coupled with that defiant expression, was truly irresistible.
Ling swallowed the liquid that had come out of his mouth, his eyes filled with an even stronger desire to hold onto Cecil.
He had never seen anyone so beautiful. The bright golden hair was rare, an eye-catching color, but on Cecil, it was a work of art, a work of art favored by God.
Sehir felt a heavy pressure in his chest, as if the air was stuck in his nostrils, and his throat was dry and uncomfortable, but he couldn't stop. What was Linger anyway? He could just treat him as a playful person.
Thinking it over, Sehir turned and went into a thicket of bushes. The grass there was very tall, so Sehir pulled his hat down even lower, bent down, took a few steps, and squatted down in the grass.
He was almost fainting from the heat, and he was afraid that if he continued walking, he would end up back where he started.
"Young Master?" Lin Ge stepped into the bushes and walked very slowly.
Sehir shrank his body even lower and covered his mouth tightly with both hands.
"Stop hiding, I'll find you." Ling tilted his head and chuckled a few times. "Your Grace, the red wine today is quite good, isn't it?"
Sehir could already hear the rustling of the grass around his ears, and his whole body trembled even more violently.
As Linger drew closer, Cecil's heart pounded harder and harder, her long eyelashes clenched tightly together, her body trembling.
Suddenly, the sounds around me stopped, and Ling Ge's voice also came to an abrupt halt.
Hearing that there was no more movement around him, Cecil swallowed the liquid in his mouth, slightly moistening his dry and astringent throat.
Sehir exhaled a breath of stale air, swayed as he stood up from the ground, and Linger, who had been so close, had vanished without a trace, leaving only the rustling of the wind around him.
Sehir gripped the silver notes in his pocket again, and was about to step out of the bushes when a dark figure flashed past him, carrying a faint fragrance, and instantly pulled Sehir into his arms.
"Young Master, where do you want to go?" A chilling voice came from above.
Islam!
Sehir's pupils trembled violently. He was about to shout when Isri tightly covered his mouth.
Rather than that, let's just grab him. Sessil's eyes welled up with tears of excitement as he struggled in Isri's arms, trying to escape the cage-like wrist.
Isri's amber eyes flashed with a cold light as he led Sehir deeper into the jungle, ignoring the fierce struggles of the person in his arms.
Only when he found a tree with a relatively wide trunk did Islam lean against it and stop moving.
Sehir's breathing grew increasingly labored, and oxygen was gradually draining from his head. Some of the tears that welled up in his eyes soaked through Isri's white gloves.
“Young Master, falling into Linge’s hands means certain death. You choose.” Isri’s voice was calm, but it sounded like a threat.
Cesil finally stopped struggling, began to understand Isri's words, and finally put his hand down, indicating that he had made his choice.
Isri curled his lips and placed Sehir on the ground. Instantly, Sehir's legs went limp as if bones had been removed, and he collapsed to the ground in the next second.
Fortunately, Isri reacted quickly and stepped forward to pull Sehir into his arms.
Sehir was somewhat delirious and could only lie comfortably in Isri's arms, panting.
The soft, panting sound that reached Isri's ears was like adding fuel to the fire. Isri frowned slightly, picked up Ceshir, and sat him down on a pile of dead leaves.
"What did the young master eat?" Isri raised his hand and unbuttoned a few buttons around Sehir's neck.
Sehir gripped Isri's sleeve tightly, his eyes bloodshot: "You've been drinking..."
Sehir murmured unconsciously, "Isri smells so good, a very light yet captivating scent."
Isri pulled his hands out of his gloves and brushed the hair from Cesil's forehead.
Cecil's skin is now extremely sensitive; even a light touch with her fingertips makes her tremble uncontrollably.
Isri was also taken aback, and his throat began to feel hot: "Young Master, would you like me to help you?"
Sehir felt a chill on Isri's body and frantically pulled at Isri's clothes with both hands. After a few seconds, Isri's clothes were all crumpled and bunched up.
"What is the young master doing?" Isri's voice had become low.
For now, we'll forgive the young master for his escape today.
Cecil rested his head against Isri's chest, the cool iron ornament making him feel even more comfortable.
He murmured, "I'm a little hot, Ishri, you're so cool..."
Isri raised his head and looked up at the tree trunk above.
Young master, you really have no sense of danger.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sehir huddled in Isri's arms, his panting breaths spraying onto Isri's chest.
A glint of greed flashed in Isri’s eyes. He grabbed Sehir by the waist and lifted him up to sit on his lap.
"Young master, do you need my help?" Isri asked again.
Having left his comfortable place, Sehir's expression turned displeased, and he commanded, "Isri, put me down!"
Sehir spoke with a delicate, soft, and gentle tone, without a trace of coercion.
Isri pulled him back into his arms and gently unbuttoned Ceshir's collar, but considering it was winter, Isri's movements were not very large, only opening one collar.
The cool breeze instantly dispelled the irritation in Sehir's head. As Isri loosened his grip, Sehir nestled into Isri's arms.
“Young Master, you were the one who went too far first,” Isri said to himself, taking off all his gloves and setting them aside.
As Isri took off his coat, his gaze remained fixed on Ceshir until he draped the coat over Ceshir's shoulders, at which point Isri's gaze shifted.
Sehir was wrapped in clothes, which naturally created a small space between him and Isri.
“Young Master, you look beautiful today.” Isri raised his hand and slowly unbuttoned Cecil’s collar.
The confused Sehir could only feel that he was much cooler, and for a moment he did not resist, but obediently followed Isri's actions.
The desire in Isri’s eyes intensified, his pale amber eyes filled with the image of Ceshir.
Her skin, tinged with a faint pink, was slowly revealed to the air. This stunning beauty was breathing, rising and falling with each breath. Isri placed his hand on that burning skin and slowly slid it down along the lines of her body.
Isri's movements were unhurried, and when he pressed on her lower abdomen, Ceshir, who had just propped himself up, suddenly collapsed back into Isri's arms.
"Isri, what do you want to do!" Stimulated by the cool breeze, Sehir's mind cleared up considerably, and he looked up to question Isri.
Isri met Cesil's eyes, his gaze revealing no fear, but rather a hint of amusement.
"Is the young master awake?" Isri's voice was seductive as he brazenly moved his hand down Cesil's abdomen.
Sehir's eyes were red-rimmed. He was somewhat more conscious, but the effects of the drug on his body had not yet worn off. Stimulated by Iris, Sehir trembled and fell back into Iris's arms.
Sehir helped himself up, a cold glint in his eyes: "You'd better not be presumptuous!"
Isri's lips curled upwards, and he raised his hand to tighten the robe draped over Cesil's shoulders: "Then, young master, explain where you intend to escape to today?"
Immediately, Sehir fell silent, swallowing the saliva stuck in his throat, and his mind cleared up several degrees in an instant.
In a moment of panic, Sehir's momentum suddenly weakened, and he dared not look at Isri.
"I……"
Before Cecil could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Isri: "However, I will not do anything to the young master today, so there is no need for fear."