Just as he was about to pull away the hand that was grabbing his clothes, Cecil tightened his grip the next second and tried to press his lips to Isri's ear.
Sehir loosened his grip on his lip, his voice trembling as if he had used a great deal of effort to utter a complete sentence.
"You haven't said yes yet!"
The warm breath lingered on his earlobe, and Isri shuddered. Then, with a soft laugh, Isri lifted Ceshir up by the waist.
Before Sesil could react, a muffled groan escaped his throat as he sat down again.
Sehir buried his head in the crook of Isri's neck, his hot breath constantly tracing the smooth skin of his neck, and the food in front of him looked incredibly tempting.
Isri chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming slightly as he reached out and pinched Cesil's chin. His voice was long and gentle as his lips moved.
"I promise you, young master, I will grant you any request."
Upon receiving Isri's reply, Cesil exhausted all his strength in that instant, collapsing limply onto Isri's body, softly exhaling gasps for breath.
"Young Master? Shall we continue?" Isri raised a hand and placed it on Ceshir's lower back.
Sehir's back was already damp with a light sweat, his clothes sticking to it. Sitting like this, he was getting a bit chilly.
Seeing that Sehir did not move, Isri reached out and took off his clothes directly from above his head. The sudden cool breeze made Sehir shiver slightly.
Isri put Cesil back on the bed. Strands of golden hair clung to his forehead, his nose was bright red, and his lustful eyes were staring at him unconsciously.
"Young Master~" Isri called softly. In the heat of the moment, the two words became a catalyst. Cecil tilted his head, frowning with some dissatisfaction.
Isri moved slowly, his fingers exploring every corner of Cesil's body, leaving an even deeper mark on the already lingering cheesy scar.
"Mmm...uh..."
A sharp pain brought Cecil back to his senses, and he realized that he was completely naked. He was glad that he had avoided all the light sources.
The hands that were originally meant to block their way eventually obediently fell to the side, allowing the person on top of them to run rampant.
_
I don't know when, but my consciousness had been completely taken over, and when I woke up again it was the next morning.
This time, it wasn't as serious as last time; at least I felt relatively refreshed.
Cecil lay peacefully on the bed, the outside light shining on his face, making his golden hair look as if it were edged with gold.
Even when Isri came in, he merely moved his body a little closer to the edge of the bed.
“Young Master, as I promised you, I will take you out today.” Isri draped the clothes in his hand over his arm.
Sehir glanced at it, then looked away and hummed in agreement.
Having received permission, Isri nodded and began to change Cesil's clothes.
Having not worn clothes outside for a long time, Cecil felt a little uncomfortable suddenly putting them on. He flexed his wrists and looked at the full-length mirror that had been pushed in.
The high-necked dress completely concealed the marks on her body. Cecil raised her hand, touching the lace trim at the neckline, somewhat lost in thought.
No one would have imagined that beneath such clothes lay a filthy body, a paradise for others to enjoy.
But this other person is Isri... Isri, Ceshir thought, his head bowed, his mind buzzing.
Isri, who was kneeling on the ground, placed Sehir's feet on his knees.
Cecil stared at Isri without moving. Just as he was about to tie his shoelaces, the hand with the rose ring reached out and gently lifted Isri's chin.
Isri raised his head with a slight effort, his phoenix eyes narrowing, a hint of allure flashing within them: "Young Master? Is there something you need?"
Cecil tilted his head, his face expressionless, and said in a soft voice, "What if I wanted to kill you?"
Upon hearing the question, the provocative look in Isri's eyes became even more pronounced. Isri stood up, took a step back, and spoke respectfully.
"Then, young master, what tool would you like to use?"
Cecil's eyes twitched, but he didn't say anything. He tried to get up from the bed, but his legs seemed to have no feeling, and he fell forward.
A flicker of panic crossed Sehir's eyes, and he instinctively grabbed the object in front of him, his forehead slamming into Isri's chest.
He put his arm around Sehir's waist, helped him up, bent down and scooped him up between his legs: "Is young master in such a hurry?"
"You didn't say this much before."
Sesil couldn't help but open his mouth and retort, knowing that the current position would only make him more uncomfortable.
"I understand, young master."
-
Cecil was still a little excited about what was happening outside. He had lost count of how much time had passed since he was locked in his house.
With his head held high, Cecil's eyes were squinting from the bright sunlight overhead, but he kept his head up as if he were seeing this kind of sunlight for the first time, feeling its warmth on his body.
The carriage started moving abruptly. Cecil immediately grabbed the handle beside him and stood there stunned for a long time before he reacted.
Cecil couldn't help but look at himself, so rude and flustered, that he looked like a child who had just seen the world, which made the outsiders laugh.
The market was crowded today. After spring arrived, all the fruits and vegetables were fresh, and people were scrambling to get in.
In the central square in front, people of similar age to him were holding the hands of children who had just learned to walk.
Her little feet swayed back and forth, and she would pause for several seconds after each step before smiling and looking at her brother.
Sehir leaned against the window, seemingly lost in thought, but soon the carriage turned a corner, leaving only the glass reflecting his image in the window.
“Isri,” Sehir called out, “I want to get off.”
Islam paused, then pulled the car over to the side of the road. After the bumpy ride, his legs had regained their strength, and Ceshir helped Islam down the steps with his arm.
Sehir walked very slowly. At first it was fine, but as time went on, he could feel countless eyes staring at him.
Those contemptuous and disgusting gazes were falling mercilessly upon him.
Chapter 104
Sehir looked up. Everyone around him was busy with their own things, and only occasionally would a glance fall on him, but it was just a fleeting look.
"An illusion?" Sehir tried to reassure himself, but when he lowered his head again, the gaze was even more intense than before, as if it wanted to tear him apart on the spot.
Sehir frowned slightly, a wave of nausea rising in his throat, and stood motionless.
"Is there anything I can do for you, young master?" Isri asked, bending down as he walked to Sehir's side.
Cesil's face paled slightly as he looked up to meet Isri's gaze: "Is someone following us?"
Isri's eyes twitched, he straightened up, and after a long while, he finally opened his mouth to reply, "No one is with you, young master."
Sehir pulled his hat down a bit, covering most of his face: "It's okay, go back."
On the way back to the carriage, Cecil felt as if a dozen burly men were twisting inside his stomach, causing him nausea.
The gazes around him grew increasingly intense, staring intently through his clothes at his unclean body.
The sounds of slander, insults, and mockery seemed to fill my ears, and they hurled rotten vegetables and garbage at me without mercy.
Within seconds, cold sweat broke out on Cecil's back, and he began to have difficulty breathing.
"Dear Duke! This is today's new newspaper, delivered to you."
Suddenly, a newspaper vendor standing next to Sehir shouted at the top of his lungs.
Suddenly, Sehir seemed to be startled, staring wide-eyed at the person standing next to him in horror.
The newspaper vendor was startled by Cecil's sudden action, thinking he had offended a nobleman. He quickly lowered his head, his voice trembling as he spoke.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I'm so sorry..."
The man had an incredibly loud voice, which made Cecil panic and worsened his nausea. He quickly grabbed the newspaper the man offered, turned around, and walked toward the carriage parked in the distance.
Isri followed behind, glancing at the newspaper vendor. Their eyes met for a moment, and the man's light gold eyes seemed to pierce through him.
The newspaper vendor quickly bowed several times and ran away as fast as he could.
Back in the carriage, the feeling seemed to lessen a bit, and the newspaper in my hand was now crumpled into a ball.
Sehir looked out the window; the pedestrians were all hurrying about their own business, and no one noticed that the people in the carriage were watching them.
But was that gaze, Cecil looking down at his still-cold palms, really just an illusion?
Once his body warmed up a bit, Sehir remembered that he was still clutching today's newspaper in his hand. Out of curiosity, he unfolded the crumpled newspaper.
The questions above were mostly trivial and irrelevant, the biggest being the selection of the Holy Son. Cecil glanced at them, but his emotions didn't change much.
This situation was expected, so it's not surprising that a new election is being held now. Sehir raised an eyebrow and turned the page of the newspaper.
There was nothing wrong with it, but on the otherwise pale paper, a dark gray spot stood out starkly.
After bringing the newspaper inside, Cecil felt as if the blood in his body had frozen, and his body, which had just warmed up, instantly plunged into an ice cellar.
In the narrow margins of that long newspaper, a trivial news item was mentioned only briefly.
"An unnamed child was tragically run over and killed by a noble car."
A simple sentence, accompanied by a somewhat blurry photo. Sessil remembers it clearly; the child in the photo is the same child who used to sit in front of his house.
The deep red sweater was so eye-catching that it only appeared as a dark gray dot on the newspaper.
Sehir's voice was choked with emotion. In the photo, the child was pinned under the car, still holding the unopened bottle of milk.
A feeling of nausea and unease welled up inside me again, my nerves were on edge, and my gaze finally fell on Isri sitting in front of me.
No, Isri promised himself.
Sehir was about to brainwash himself when he suddenly remembered that the child had jumped on him before and even clung to him tightly, a scene that Ishri had witnessed.
The more Sehir recalled, the more he felt a chill run down his spine. Even when he glanced at the animals outside, Isri would chase them all away.
Sehir's pupils dilated slightly, and he gripped the newspaper tightly in his hand. But Isri had promised him, so why!
His throat was sore and blocked, and the only air he could get was forced in through his throat. Cecil clutched his collar, trying to gag but nothing came out of his stomach, and his eyes were bloodshot from holding it in.
No matter how much you try to brainwash yourself, those scenes and the events that unfolded are destroying this fragile promise.
Isri will not release him, so even if the child dies, he will not know. His appearance today is just a coincidence. Isri may not even know that the newspaper has reported on this matter.
It was all planned!
He was his pet, a pet imprisoned. Ceshir stared at Isri's back, his anger growing stronger.
That child was already mentally challenged and wouldn't spread rumors or cause trouble if he went out, but even so, this madman was unwilling to let him go.