Chapitre 55

He wanted to draw back the curtains; he wanted to see outside.

The curtains were right in front of him, less than a centimeter from his fingertips, but no matter how hard Sehir tried, he still couldn't reach the edge of the curtains, and his ankles were rubbed raw and red from the chains.

He wanted to wait for the wind to blow again, but it seemed that the wind was also working against him. No matter how much he prayed, the wind would not blow the curtains open.

After trying dozens of times, Cecil sighed and prepared to give up. Just as he was about to pull his hand back, suddenly, after a few sounds outside the window, a strong gust of wind blew the curtains up.

Sehir's eyes widened, and he hurriedly stretched his arm out of the cage, but before he could even feel happy for a second, an irresistible sound came from behind him.

"Young Master, what are you doing?"

The chilling voice made Cecil shudder instantly, and the curtain that was already on his fingertips slipped down.

Sehir turned around and looked at Isri, his lips turning from pale pink to white.

"I didn't do anything," he said somewhat guiltily.

Isri raised an eyebrow and continued with his usual actions, completely unconcerned about Ceshir's series of actions just now.

Yes, he saw it.

The little bird, imprisoned, had eyes full of longing for the outside world, but those bright eyes, refracted by the light, held nothing for itself.

Isri clicked his tongue inadvertently, and after setting out lunch for Ceshir, he turned and took out a few newspapers from the outer drawer.

This time, not only the broken section, but all the other windows were covered up piece by piece with newspaper.

As Sehir watched Isri's actions, he unconsciously tightened his grip on the fork. When Isri squatted down in front of him again, Sehir suddenly raised the fork towards Isri.

Sehir held the fork for a long time without moving, and Isri knelt motionless in front of Sehir.

Immediately afterwards, Cecil turned his head away, threw his fork into the plate, and said in a somewhat irritated tone.

"I'm stuffed."

Isri curled his lips into a smile, gathered the food plates together, and got up to pick up the iron chain that was placed next to the cage.

Seeing Isri's movements, Sehir panicked and tried to get up, but he lost his footing and his back foot got caught on the chain, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud.

Dressed in a black butler's uniform, Isri's cold, stern eyes swept over Cecil's entire body like a wolf, his desire radiating undisguisedly.

The figure kneeling before Cesil resembled a sculpture sculpted by the devil himself, its shadow behind it baring its fangs and brandishing its master's madness.

Isri loosened his tie, hooked his index finger around the middle of the tie, and gently tugged it off. The veins on the back of his hand bulged slightly, and he seemed to exude a wild air.

Sehir sat motionless, and Islam stroked Sehir's neck, pulling him close to his shoulder.

Then, Isri grabbed Ceshir's hands and pulled them behind his back, and the chains were mercilessly wrapped around them.

Isri's movements were far from gentle; his skin quickly turned red, and Cesil was stunned, trying to struggle.

But as soon as he moved, Cecil seemed to realize something and leaned against Isri's shoulder without moving, no matter how much he struggled, the result was the same.

The chains were locked very tightly, and Cecil thought that movement was almost impossible. Isri moved aside with satisfaction and took the tie that was placed next to him.

"What are you going to do!" Sehir asked, looking at the tie in Isri's hand with some fear.

Isri's lips twitched. He raised his hand to cover his eyes with the tie, tied a knot behind his head, and then slowly moved away, bringing his head close to Cesil's ear. After a while, those cool, thin lips came close again.

The gas was scorching hot, almost setting Cecil on fire. He gently bit his earlobe with a lustful gesture, rubbing it repeatedly.

Sehir was clearly startled, and the darkness made him even more sensitive, his body constantly resisting Isri's movements.

“Isri…” Sehir uttered.

Isri finally stopped what he was doing and whispered in Sehir's ear, "This is the punishment for what you just did."

"Just now?" Sesil paused, taken aback.

Whether it was the subconscious attack just now or her own act of trying to draw back the curtains, Cecil's mind was in complete turmoil. Isri's voice seemed to be coming from above, constantly echoing in her ears.

“Young Master’s eyes are too beautiful, but they don’t contain what I want.” Isri’s voice echoed in my ears again: “Then why not blindfold the young master and let him reflect on his actions?”

As he spoke, Isri got up and tried to walk away, leaving only the sound of chains being pulled behind him.

“I’m afraid of the dark…” Cecil blurted out.

Isri stopped in his tracks, turned around and chuckled softly, "I told you, young master, this is punishment."

Sehir shuddered, tentatively raising his blindfolded head, his voice trembling as if he were using all his strength.

"Why...why did you do this?" Cecil lowered his head. "Don't you have a lover?"

Sehir's sudden question made Isri pause in his tracks once again.

"spouse?"

Chapter Ninety-One

Faced with Sehir's sudden question, Isri was momentarily surprised.

He tilted his head and looked at the person in the cage: "Young master, I have no lover."

Sehir shifted his body, making the sound of pulling on the chains more noticeable, and settled himself into the most comfortable position possible.

Hearing what Isri said, Sehir gritted his teeth and spoke his mind.

"If you don't have a lover, then you've gone out to have an affair. Since you're going to have an affair, then go ahead and do it. Why are you treating me like this!"

As Cecil spoke, his voice became somewhat unsteady. In the darkness, he couldn't see Isri's expression, or even what Isri might do next. He had no idea what to do.

Isri was initially confused, but eventually he pieced together Sehir's words to the time he stole from the red-light district, and guessed that he had picked up some perfume from outside.

Isri frowned slightly, walked to the cage, squatted down, and reached out to brush the hair that was blocking Sehir's face back.

"Young master, you're overthinking it. I'm not like that."

Sehir was startled by Isri's sudden movement and flinched back. Before he could recover, Isri's deep and gentle voice rang out again.

“My dearest young master Cecil, I love only you, and I cannot live without you.”

Sehir stood frozen in place, his lips trembling slightly: "This is impossible, the West Asian continent will not allow it..."

Before Sehir could finish speaking, Isri interrupted him, his voice seemingly colder than before: "You can't get out now, can you?"

Islam exhaled: "You are locked in a cage now, and you can't get out. You will always belong to me alone."

“But I am your master!” Cecil opened his mouth again, trying to be defiant.

Isri's eyes twitched twice, but he didn't pull Cesil to his side. Instead, his voice sounded as if he had been relieved.

“You are my master, but aren’t you the one begging for mercy right now? My great Kritis… master.”

Isri stood up, chuckled softly, like a demon emerging from the earth admiring the angel he had raised.

When Isri closed the door, Sehir collapsed onto the blanket, his body going limp.

He was at a disadvantage from beginning to end, and had no power to resist in front of Isri.

For the entire afternoon, Cecil lay sprawled on the ground, his heart pounding wildly like a broken string of beads, realizing that his butler actually liked him.

It's not the kind of simple liking; it's a more complex, more desire-driven liking—a butler's lust for his master.

Sehir kept his head down, and he could still smell the faint mixed scent of his tie.

Even though it was early spring, it was still a bit chilly outside. Ishmael was adding firewood to the fireplace, and it was already completely dark outside.

"Knock knock knock".

There was a knock on the door. Sehir remained lying there, knowing that in the end, he would be sent away by Isri.

Isri frowned slightly, put down what he was holding, came down from the second floor, and looked at the door that was still being knocked on.

He hadn't intended to open the door, but the knocking continued, so he had no choice but to open it a crack.

Upon seeing the door open, the person knocking outside stopped, took a step back, and raised their voice.

"Hello, we are the Queen's Royal Guard. The Queen has come to visit Duke Cretis tonight."

Isri paused for a moment, opened the door, bowed respectfully, and spoke.

"I'm sorry, young master had to go out yesterday."

Upon receiving the news, the Royal Guard turned and ran back to report to the Queen. They then saw the Queen being helped down from the carriage and walking to Isri.

Isri gave a standard smile and bowed: "Good evening, Your Majesty."

The Queen glanced inside the door and opened her mouth: "You're the only servant in the house?"

"yes"

The Queen nodded and walked through the door, followed by two royal guards: "Did the Duke go out without you?"

Islam followed behind the Queen, his voice flat: "The young master said he wants to go out alone."

The Queen found a seat and sat down. Even with a veil on, her voice still sounded like that of a young girl: "I have received a request from the people. When will the Holy Son return to the church?"

Isri lowered his head, his voice neither cold nor indifferent: "Young Master hasn't been feeling well lately, and may need some more time."

The Queen looked Isri up and down, but her voice left no room for argument: "Since His Majesty the Duke is unwell, how about we elect a new Holy Son?"

Isri suppressed the smirk that was playing on his lips and bowed deeply: "Everything will be done as the Queen wishes."

He couldn't be happier.

The queen smiled; she was the true ruler of the West Asian continent, and people should worship her!

Just as the Queen stood up, preparing to leave, a clanging sound of chains suddenly came from the quiet house.

Sehir could hear the commotion below. The guards had been making a lot of noise, and the second floor could hear it clearly. He shifted his body and slammed the iron chains tied behind him onto the cage.

Since the Queen is alive, Isri shouldn't die, but there's only a 50% chance. Yet, subconsciously, Cecil still wants to take the gamble.

"Bang!" Another sound rang out. Isri's eyes were dark and gloomy, like a wolfhound poised to pounce.

What was that sound?

The Queen looked towards the second floor with some confusion, and the Royal Guards were ready to rush upstairs.

Isri smiled again, looked at the Queen, and his voice was completely calm.

"Sorry, we have a large pet on the second floor. It's been a bit disobedient lately, so we've chained it up."

The Queen looked somewhat embarrassed and glanced at the second floor again: "So the Duke has this quirk. Well then, I won't bother you any longer."

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