"You say I've changed, but you're not much different from me."
“Young Master… I…” Isri lowered his head, somewhat relieved that it was dark around him, otherwise Cesil would have seen his pathetic side.
“Why don’t you try calling my name?” Sehir moved even closer to Islam.
Isri's hands were trembling from the tension; even in such a lucid state, he couldn't manage to face Ceshir.
Sehir knew Isri wouldn't dare, and chuckled softly, "Tell me, and I'll tell you what I think of you."
Isri paused for a moment, looked up, and met Ceshir's gaze. Ceshir's eyes were like jewels fallen to the bottom of the sea, looking at him.
“Se...Seshir.” Isri turned his gaze away and called out, his lips trembling.
Islam looked like he'd just stepped out of a hot pan; sitting on the bed felt like sitting on pins and needles.
A smile appeared in Cecil's eyes as he shifted his body and knelt up from the bed.
"Now I'll tell you my opinion."
Isri was both surprised and nervous, and he slightly raised his head to look at Sehir.
What would Cesil say? He wouldn't care what she said, Isri tightened his grip on his fingers, waiting patiently.
Raindrops pattered against the window outside. Ceshir tilted his head and carefully examined Isri. A second passed, and Ceshir hooked his finger and gently lifted Isri's chin.
Islam's heart beats even faster now that he's here.
But the next second, Ceshir's actions caused Isri's nerves to completely break down.
The slender body slowly moved up, her knees crossing over one of his legs and resting between them. Now Cecil knelt before him in a superior position.
Sehir twirled a strand of hair behind Isri's ear with his fingers, then leaned down and placed an imperfect kiss on Isri's lips.
Cecil spoke softly, turning his head to whisper in Isri's ear: "Isri, this is my answer."
The soft, golden hair tickled her neck, but Isri remained motionless, and the trembling in her body stopped for a moment.
Sehir moved away, looking at Isri with a smile that deepened and became somewhat seductive.
"You lost, you coward."
Yes, he lost. Cecil won the game, and won completely.
He understood that Cecil was unwilling to be outdone, and even if he was the one being surpassed, Cecil would not be content. He would do everything in his power to show you that he was the one in control.
“Young…Young Master…” Isri looked at Sehir, who had already sat back down, and turned his head away, which was stuck in his throat.
Cecil pulled the covers over himself and lay down, his back to Isri, his voice languid: "Sleep, I've given you my answer."
Hearing Ceshir's words, Isri finally recovered from his stiffness. The warmth from before still lingered on his lips, and unconsciously, Isri raised his hand to touch the corner of his mouth.
"Why doesn't the young master hate me?" Isri asked, looking at Ceshir's retreating figure, finally voicing the question that had been lingering in his mind for so long.
Sehir remained with his back turned, his expression obscured, but his voice still sounded languid: "Because this is my revenge on you, and I'll make sure you never forget it for the rest of your life."
In this lifetime...
Isri paused for a moment, about to ask another question, but Ceshir seemed to know what was going on and interrupted him.
"You want me to answer your questions all night?"
Only then did Islam realize what was happening, shut his mouth and stopped talking, his ear tips turning slightly red.
Today was undoubtedly Isri's most energetic day. Even lying in bed, the feeling on his lips hadn't disappeared. It was Cesil's own mark, though it was, as he called it, revenge.
Let them take revenge, let them keep taking revenge.
-
After the rain, the fog dissipated considerably, and the long-awaited sunshine pierced through the clouds.
After Bonal Irene became queen, the Greenland Church's plan to elect a Son of God was halted, and Cecil naturally succeeded her.
As a result, Cretis's power expanded, and the church was once again packed with people when prayer services were held again.
This time, Isri did not wait outside. He was also one of the believers, watching the holy son standing under the crystal light, the holy son who would ultimately belong to him.
Bonal Irene would visit from time to time, and some nobles were green with envy, but in the end they could only bow down to the powerful and wealthy.
Sehir always made up different excuses to brush it off. Although Bonal Irene said she didn't care, her unpredictable nature meant she would always change her plans at any moment.
Everyone was well aware of the feudal autocracy of this era, and everyone lived cautiously, constantly trying to improve their status, because only in this way could they effectively avoid being strangled in their own beds in the middle of the night.
The weather gradually turned cold, and snow fell again on the streets. The annual festival had arrived once more. Sehir tightened his cloak over his shoulders and stepped down from the carriage.
“Let’s go together.” Sehir looked at Isri and opened his mouth.
Islam paused for a moment, then bowed and followed behind Sehir. With each step up the mountain, Islam's heart beat faster.
This was the first time he had been allowed to come up, which meant that Sehir had accepted him, Isri thought, his eyes fixed on Sehir's back.
Chapter 136
The wind on the mountain was much stronger than that at the foot of the mountain. Ishri consciously stood in the wind and finally saw everything in front of him. The tombstone was not big, but there was only one, with only a simple sentence on it.
'Your souls will be buried here.'
Regarding the tombstone, Isri only knew one thing: there were no corpses here; those corpses had long since been burned to ashes in a fire.
Ishri couldn't help but feel sorry for Sehir, who was standing next to him.
But when he turned his head, Cecil's face was expressionless; he just stared blankly, letting the wind mess up his hair.
It seems that Sehir was indeed just a child, who hadn't had a chance to experience anything before he vanished without a trace.
It seems that only at this moment did Isri suddenly realize why Cesil didn't hate himself, why he didn't sell himself out, or even kill himself.
The reason is so simple that Islam couldn't even imagine it.
If he were to disappear, Sehir would have no one to rely on.
Hall had left the mansion long ago, and when they met again, he was more afraid of the powerful and wealthy. His so-called feelings were nothing more than lingering affection for the past.
Thinking about this, Isri felt like he was a despicable bastard.
Sehir had too many things he didn't want to express, which he ignored time and time again. Isri clenched his hands, his throat slightly choked.
Sehir stood there for a long time, and Isri stood there with him for a long time as well. No one knew what the two were thinking. Perhaps only at this moment were these two people who were so different from each other able to think most clearly.
At noon, Cecil slowly moved his feet, looked at the trees with green leaves still above his head, and gently curled the corners of his lips: "Let's go, let's go home."
Isri nodded and followed behind Sehir, watching Sehir's back as if this person would not belong to him in the next second, as if if he did not do something, this person would be taken away by someone else.
It wasn't until Sehir reached the carriage that Isri called out to stop them.
"Young Master!"
Cecil paused, turning to look at Isri. Isri didn't speak, but stepped forward, opened the door, and looked at Cecil.
Then, he pulled Sesil into his arms and placed him on the seat. Before Sesil could react, Isri leaned in, and then those familiar yet unfamiliar lips landed on his.
Isri held Cesil's head, and Cesil struggled slightly before giving up and letting Isri do as he pleased. Only after all the air in his mouth was taken away did Cesil start to struggle again.
Seeing this, Isri released Ceshir, whose pink lips had turned red from the kiss, and whose eyes were now flushed.
"Can't you be a little more mindful?!"
Sehir glared at Isri without questioning or hurling insults. Isri's eyes twitched, and a buzzing sound continued to echo in his mind.
Isri seemed to have lost his mind. He put his hands through Cesil's arms and placed him behind the seat. He then stepped into the carriage himself and closed the door.
At that moment, Cesil felt as if he had fallen into the jaws of wolves. He looked at Isri with a somewhat embarrassed expression and moved his body back slightly.
The carriage was not large to begin with, and after only two steps, it pulled up to the other side. Ceshir looked at Isri, unsure of what to say.
Isri waited until Sehir had caught his breath and regained his composure before pressing down on him again, holding Sehir tightly in his arms.
"Ugh..." Before Seshiel could even resist, Isri's mouth fell again, as if asserting its dominance, ruthlessly plundering Seshiel.
Cecil could only raise his hand and grip Isri's clothes tightly, feeling the air gradually draining from his head.
Each time, when he was almost suffocating, Isri would release Sehir. Sehir would unconsciously lean on Isri's shoulder, panting heavily, taking large gulps of air into his mouth.
Her lips had long been kissed until they were a deep crimson red, looking incredibly alluring.
For the last time, Islam did not kiss her, but instead gently placed his thumb on Cesil's lips, tilting his head to place the last kiss on his thumb.
"Young Master, I love you." Isri whispered, "I think I will never leave you."
Cesil opened his eyes and looked at Isri, his eyebrows twitching. He reached out and gently lifted Isri's chin with his fingertips, his voice slightly unsteady.
"Why don't you say this while calling my name?"
They were like lovers meeting in the shadows. The male protagonist was completely captivated by the beauty in front of him. Isri ran his fingers through Cesil's soft hair, his voice low and gentle.
"Young master, you're the one who tempted me..."
As they spoke, the last breath they were about to say became the second to last, and this breath was longer than any of the previous ones. Their breaths mingled together, and the surrounding air became hot.
Isri was enjoying the changes in his body, but he didn't take any action. It wasn't time yet; he had to wait for the day when Cesil would fully accept him.
Once again, after taking all the air from Sehir's mouth, Isri reluctantly moved his head away and rested it beside Sehir's ear, his voice as deep as a cello.
"Sehir, I love you."
Sehir shoved Isri aside and looked out the window: "Go home!"
Islam's lips curled slightly as he opened the car door and replied, "Yes."
Sitting in the car, Sehir calmed himself down for a while before pulling back the curtain to observe the outside.
Although Bonal Irene is now in power and her administration is more effective than that of the former queen, the fact that they are of the same bloodline and the significant difference in their approaches still worries Cecil.
The more you think about someone, the greater the chance of seeing them. As soon as Cecil arrived home, Bonal Irene was already waiting at the door.
When Cecil saw it, he felt as if he had recently stirred up trouble in the Queen's den.
Upon seeing Cecil, Bonar Irene opened her mouth and looked at Isrith, saying, "Could you please show Byrne around?"
Even the way he's being dismissed is so casual now. Cecil let out a breath and asked respectfully, "What does Your Majesty need me for?"
“Let’s go inside and talk slowly,” Bonal Irene said with a smile.
As Cecil followed Bonal Irene, he was surprised to find that Bonal Irene knew his home better than he did.
It wasn't until the two sat down that Sehir noticed Bonal Irene's complexion wasn't very good, which made Sehir's heart skip a beat.