Chapter 61. Kiss on the Lips

It was over a week ago when Grand Duke Delta received news.

The Crown Prince—Dimitri Von Arthur—had found the last traces regarding the robbery of the Book of Revelation.

This had made Grand Duke Delta's blood race.

He wished to get revenge for what had happened three years ago! Seeing that his birthday was coming up, the Grand Duke purposely hosted a birthday banquet for himself—even though he usually wouldn't. Slowly but gradually, he lured the fish to catch his bait... then reeled it up to his trap!

Why didn't any of the guards stop Gira from entering?

They could tell that her identity was fake—her black dress was enough for any noblemen and women to tell that she was not who she said she was. However, pertaining to Grand Duke Delta's orders, the guards allowed her inside... she was trapped in a manor where all the Royal Knights awaited for her.

It was over for this thief.

"LET GO OF ME!" Gira screamed, trying her best to tear her hands away from the Knight's sharp grip. Instead, it remained firm on her wrist.

"We'll detain you for the robbery of Book of Revelation three years ago, and also the attempt at murdering Grand Duke Delta." Azalea spoke calmly.

Meanwhile, a head of golden locks shone brilliantly in the manor.

"Oh my, Grand Duke Delta." An elegant hand dressed in white glove had been placed out. Dimitri smiled, his handsome face akin to an endearing moon amongst a starless night. "You are dirty. Shall I go help you change clothes?"

Seeing the spilt wine over his white suit, Grand Duke Delta sneered. "Yes, Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince."

He whipped his old head back, glaring at the struggling "noblewoman".

"Take good care of my guest," Grand Duke Delta huffed. "I want to make sure that she spends a... great time in prison." He turns away, heading upstairs to change his clothes.

"NOOO!!!" A high sob wailed across the dance floor. Gira thrashed against Azalea's heavy grip, her figure flailing in multiple directions. However, no matter how strong she pulled, she could not escape from the white-haired handsome knight.

Gira gritted her teeth, "...you..." What kind of training did the male lead go through to become so strong now? Three years ago, when we faced off against each other, he was never this strong...!

The reincarnator wanted to cry. How did this happen... things weren't supposed to be like this.

"Nineteen! Help me, Nineteen!" Gira screamed.

Azalea's eyebrows scrunched, a trace of disbelief flashing before his eyes.

"Don't fall for her bluff," by his side, a companion knight offered, "We already know that she is the last robber and hasn't made any contact with other individuals! There is no person known as 'Nineteen' that is associated with her."

Azalea wore a small smile. "You're right..."

Meanwhile, Lucilline blinked his eyes innocently.

It turned out that this birthday banquet was merely a trap for Gira, whose traces had already been found by the Crown Prince.

But... He grew hesitant. What is the relationship between Gira and Nineteen? Does she know of Farrah? Or perhaps... she knows of the demon Nineteen that Farrah mentioned?

"And to think that I was preparing so much for this night." Lucilline stopped thinking about it. He gently caressed his own hair, a trace of helplessness winding on his lips. Percival couldn't help but pause, his gaze falling onto the black-haired nobleman's helpless face.

The brown-haired nobleman apologetically sighed. "My apologies. I didn't think that you were so serious about this banquet."

The two noblemen watched the commotion downstairs dissipate. Azalea and the other remaining Royal Knights had officially arrested Gira, escorting her away from House Delta's manor, and bringing her inside a secure-tight carriage. She will be placed in prison, behind the bars and wrists cuffed.

Meanwhile, Dimitri had escorted Grand Duke Delta upstairs to change.

Having seen everything happen, Lucilline sighed in relief.

"At least everything has died down." His delicate appearance was smooth like a blanket of snow. It made others want to caress and pet him.

Percival gently chuckled. "Then I suppose we could officially enjoy the night."

The music returned, the string section harmoniously playing as a group. The noblemen and women resumed dancing, their noble steps and strides filling the entire dance floor. Their dresses swayed to the beat, and their happy smiles overwriting the night.

Percival led Lucilline back to the balcony, as the two noblemen continued reminiscing the past in S Academy, and how much more fun there was to await.

*****

"I'll be heading to the restroom and freshen up," Lucilline dismissed himself. He withdrew his hands from braiding and brushing Percival's long locks of brown hair.

Percival nodded, "Understood. I'll stay here." His eyes longingly looked towards the horizon, watching the moon with his softened expression.

After exploring the manor, Lucilline entered a restroom and felt himself gently slump against the door.

He sighed, gasping in exasperation. As expected, public events are still scary.

The black-haired nobleman pulled at his collar, revealing his slender collarbones, exuding a mouthful of fresh cologne. His long ponytail of black hair was untied, releasing the entire locks to splash across his back, resembling a crash of water against a straight paper.

Lucilline slid his coat off, only wearing a white shirt with a black waistcoat.

The waistcoat outlined his slender waist, and his tight pants showed off a pair of long thin legs, the curvatures unveiling in visible sight.

"...I'm exhausted." Lucilline felt drowsy.

He wished to go back home and fall sleep—and forget any of the schemes that Grand Duke Delta came up with. Having danced with multiple dance partners, Lucilline was almost at his limits.

The black-haired nobleman inched up closer, nearing the sink.

He splashed cold water over his face, his soft and delicate skin glistening underneath the layers of transparent liquid. Droplets hung down from his strands of long hair, drooping from his fringe.

Lucilline lifted his head, staring at the mirror—

"You!" In an instant, the black-haired nobleman froze. Behind him was the figure of a handsome knight; short shoulder-length white hair like the first snow, and a pair of amethyst purple eyes, contorting in melancholy and yet fondness.

Lucilline whipped back, facing the Royal Knight with a helpless smile.

I didn't even hear him come inside. Now that I think about it, I don't remember the door opening or closing... and I'm sure that I've locked the door.

"Hey there, Lucy." Azalea gently waved.

"Mn," Lucilline firmly nodded, "Has the business with the robber been dealt with?"

"Yes." Azalea walked closer, his firm muscles visible underneath the tight suit he wore. His heels clicked across the marble stone floor, deafening to the hammering heart of Lucilline.

Raising a sceptical eyebrow, the handsome knight inched side by side to the black-haired nobleman. Their shoulders gently touched, instantly alerting Lucilline. The third Young Master shuddered at the touch, as if electricity ran up his arms.

"Do you mind if I wash my hands here?" Azalea asked.

His expression was gentle, but the look in his eyes made Lucilline feel as if he was looking at... prey.

"Mn," Lucilline stepped away, allowing Azalea to wash his hands in the white porcelain sink. He watched the sink spray water over the Knight's calloused hands. Those pair of hands must be extremely stable when holding a sword... strong and powerful...

They were indeed very attractive when grasping on Gira's wrist... preventing the thief from moving a step further. Those hands belonged to a Royal Knight—the most protective knight.

Lucilline imagined those hands caressing someone else...

That person must be lucky...

His mind strangely wandered to the male lead and the heroine. It was said that after the main plot in the novel, Azalea and Daphnne married and became a greatly celebrated couple.

That meant that the two main characters would be doing... naughty things...

Lucilline's face flushed.

What am I thinking? He shook his head. Azalea and I are friends now... in the future, he will marry Daphnne and they will live happily ever after. I am already lucky that he does not intend to execute me... and that I am not a villain anymore.

"What are you thinking, Lucy?" A serene and gentle voice brushed upon the black-haired nobleman's ear, probing his sensitive and delicate earlobe. "You are getting distracted... not by me, are you?"

Lucilline tensed up. Since when did he get behind me...?

A pair of cold hands snuck to caress his waist, rubbing small circles on both sides of his hips. The slender and delicate feeling was cherished underneath Azalea's palms, as the handsome knight whispered, "Do you think I am attractive, Lucy?"

The third Young Master blushed.

His white earlobes burned cherry red, and he did not dare to look at Azalea in the eyes. Lucilline pursed his lips, his own hands grabbing at Azalea's wandering ones. "..what are you doing, Azalea—"

A pair of soft lips covered his own.

Lucilline's eyes widened, those pair of golden irises reflecting a dreamy purple. He clutched at the Royal Knight's forearms, feeling the strenuous muscle and soft skin underneath his palms.

Without knowing, the black-haired nobleman sunk under the strength of those lips.

His golden eyes gradually closed, his eyelids shutting, a curtain of eyelashes delicately fluttering at the weird clasp on his lips. He wanted to gasp for air, but that only made him reciprocate to the kiss—their lips meeting closer and deeper to one another.

Lucilline felt his head go dizzy, as if air had been sucked out of his soul—

"Mhhh!" All of a sudden, the black-haired nobleman recoiled in pain. Azalea smiled, withdrawing from the kiss. However, that smile no longer held a gentle spirit to it. Instead, it contained malice—undeniable malice. It was so strong... enough to overwhelm Lucilline's senses, forcing his legs to soften in weakness, slumping against the wall.

His pupils dilated in pain. Slowly, his own slender hands peeled away from Azalea's forearms... then clasped at his abdomen.

Gradually, he felt the exposure of sticky liquid staining his palms. Red liquid. Blood.

「Gore warning」

Azalea stabbed his dagger further inside of the black-haired nobleman. The latter felt all of his strength sucked away, all his warmth seeping from the fatal wound at his abdomen.

Lucilline collapsed, his blood gradually extending to stain his entire waistcoat. The smell of blood was nauseating—the metallic taste permeating the air. On the ground, the black-haired nobleman wanted to puke, but the pain forced it back down his throat, his face paling in an instant.

"...Azalea...?" Meekly, he raised his head to look at the Royal Knight.

Those pair of amethyst purple eyes were void of light. A dark purple flame sparked in those pupils, darkness consuming them in a span of no time.

"Villains do not have the right to talk to me." Azalea deadpanned.

He rammed the blade deeper into his body, flesh overflowing from the wound. Warmth spilled out of his body, just like the sticky dark red blood leaking onto the floor.

Gradually, a sickly smile arose from the Royal Knight's lips.

He laughed gleefully, "YOU SHOULD DIE! DIE! DIE! You are the reason why Lydia Kingdom is doomed from the demons...! You are the one who brought the demons inside my kingdom! Inside my home!" The blade continuously purged inside the body, flesh spilling out uncontrollably, like the waves of the bloody red ocean... currents spanning over the seashore.

Lucilline's eyelids shut. Am I... going to die?

All that was left for him to hold onto... was the maniacal laughter sounding by his eardrums.

*****

"Lucy! Lucilline! Lucilline Rubius!" The shaking and the harsh grasp on his shoulders had woken him up. His curtain of delicate eyelashes fluttered open, and his eyelids gently peeling open.

The black-haired nobleman woke up.

Before him was... Azalea...!

"No!" Lucilline could not control the urge to jump back, his back hitting the wall. In an instant, he suddenly clutched on his abdomen, his black waistcoat outlining his slender waist. His long and fair legs were curling close in a panic, his knees pressing against his chest.

Azalea was puzzled. "...Lucy?" Are you okay-

Those words remained unsaid, as Lucilline came back to himself. "Ah, I'm sorry." He felt his abdomen once again. There was no wound from earlier. There was no blood on the ground either...

Was it all... just a hallucination?

His long and thin fingers clenched, his knuckles paling as white as a ghost. His hands were cold, with drizzles of sweat sliding down his forehead. "...It must have just been a nightmare." It's not from the dream demon who haunted my dreams... after all, it is confined back at home. Could it be... a new demon?

Lucilline wanted to apologize more and reach out to the male lead.

However, once he saw Azalea, the subconsciousness of his body lurched in fear and nausea. The black-haired nobleman couldn't help but recoil, wanting to puke.

"Give me some time..." Lucilline clutched his stomach, unable to control his nausea.

Azalea wanted to comfort him, but didn't know where to start. "...I... I will get you a glass of water! I will be right back!" His dashing figure raced away, closing the bathroom door behind.

Lucilline's fingers drew deeper at his stomach.

Although his abdomen was perfectly fine, he still curled in pain—as if he really was stabbed to death. All of a sudden, he felt a piece of paper fall out from his waistcoat. Lucilline was stunned, opening the unknown slip of paper. "What is this...?"

A message was written across it.

"Come to the deserted castle in Ubel Kingdom. I will be waiting for you with the Book of Memory. If you want the Book, then trade in exchange for our Princess."