Childe X You - Blog Posts

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 tartaglia x m!reader — 3.8k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: amab reader, reader is a dom at first then switches halfway through, reader is mentioned to be wearing lingerie, light feminization (childe says pussy once), use of good boy amongst other pet names, light degradation, praise (for both reader and childe), childe sucks reader's dick, childe also eats reader's ass, cockwarming (childe can't take it LMAO), no aftercare written but it is given, childe licks ur fingers to clean them, mating press, dirty talk. lmk if i missed any!

KAI SAYS: almost 4k words of pure smut haha but like omg i wrote this so late at night with my tip so pls spare me AND!!! this is my return post so...

Tartaglia knows you’re doing it on purpose now, because how can you not be? He whimpers, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink as he feels you clench around him. “Baby, please.” He whines out, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I-I can’t—baby, it’s been thirty minutes.” Thirty minutes he’d been buried to the hilt in you; his dick hard and twitching as it stuffes you full.

Tartaglia whines. He could faintly hear the sound of you taking a deep breath, but that’s not what he was focusing on. No, he was focusing more on the way you squeeze him as you inhale. It was on purpose, he knew you couldn’t just be faking this.

With a deep breath, doing his best to steel his nerves, Tartaglia pressed his thumbs into the joysticks of his console again. “I…” He murmurs softly into the skin of your neck. “I don’ think I can beat this level.”

“No.” You coo in that sickeningly sweet voice of yours. “You can.”

Tartaglia nods his head, your encouragement helping lift his mood somewhat. But, true to his word, he dies yet again. Tartaglia lets out a pathetic whine when he’s greeted with the ‘You Died!’ Screen for the nth time tonight. This bet was made specifically with his torture in mind. You knew he would never beat this level, so to “motivate” him, as you put it, you would sit nice and still on his sensitive cock until he beat it.

“Can’t you move just a little, please.” Tartaglia begs, his dignity long gone. You’re evil for this, he thinks, but all of that is lost when you shift your hips slightly, his mind going blank at just the smallest friction.

He feels his tip bump your prostate, and Tartaglia knows he’s hit it when you moan out, your mouth right by his ear as his fingers press harshly against the buttons of his game console. “P-please!” He whines again. “I-I need you t’move, just a little, just a little, please.”

“Maybe, if you last another thirty minutes, I’ll consider it.” You hum, and Archons Tartaglia thinks he's losing his mind with the way your breath trickles over his ear. “But, if you make it through the level…” Your voice trails off, but Tartaglia knows what you meant.

If he makes it through the level, Tartaglia could finally fuck you. Push you against the bed, wipe that stupid smirk off your face, maybe make you sit on his face until you cry. The options, at least to him, are endless.

You trail your hand over the neck of his shirt, and Tartaglia’s eyes dart from the screen to you. You, all dressed up in your white lace panties and thigh highs, with your chest arched against his chest and here he was, still fully clothed.

Well, only thanks to you.

You, like the cruel man you are, wouldn’t let Tartaglia strip. You’d forced him to watch as you changed, stripping off your pyjamas and slipping on the lace lingerie while he sat there, half sure he was drooling. And then you’d gone and pressed him to the edge of the bed, forcing him to sit as you pulled out his leaking dick, not even bothering to pull his sweats all the way down. Then you sat your pretty hole on his dick, and Tartaglia couldn’t pull his eyes away from the way your ass practically swallowed him whole.

And then, began this whole ordeal of pure torture.

You’re sat on his lap, facing Tartaglia as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he looks over your body and behind you to the console gripped tightly in his hands.

Tartaglia’s eyes dart to you, and they widen as he watches you shift on his dick, your tip forcing its way over the hem of your panties, now drooling pre all over his shirt. Tartaglia squeezes his eyes shut. You press a kiss right under his ear and Tartaglia twitches inside you. You let out a lewd moan and he doesn’t think he can take it anymore.

Not another thirty minutes, or another five.

Tartaglia’s hands shake, and he’s forced to watch his in-game character die again. “Fuck…” He whispers, trying not to roll his hips into your heat. “I… You’re torturing me. Can’t take this.” He whines.

You shake your head. “C’mon, baby.” You coo, using the nickname Tartaglia always uses for you. It sounds almost mocking the way it slips from your pretty lips, but he doesn’t dwell on it. “You might wanna hurry up, or I’ll have to pull out my old dildo to help me…”

No! Tartaglia thinks, and he voices such thoughts with the aggressive shake of his head against you. I can do better than a stupid dildo!

“P-Please don’t.” he says weakly. “I’m trying, I’m trying.” Tartaglia starts to concentrate on his console once again, doing his best to ignore the squeeze of your ass and the warmth of your walls.

Your tip drools pre across his shirt, twitching gently against the fabric. Tartaglia’s mouth waters. He wants to taste you, wants to bury his face between your thighs and lick every drop up. It’s an indulgence he wants to become reality more than anything.

“Can I at least touch you, please?" he asks desperately, gaze not leaving your tip. Tartaglia wants to be closer to you, to have a hand on your soft skin, to play with your dick that was so close to the cumming. He’s ready to do anything in order to make you cum, to feel you pulse around his dick. He’s losing his mind, and the game was the least of his worries. Tartaglia wants you.

"Touch me before you finish the level, and there'll be consequences." You hum. "And trust me, if you think this is bad, just wait until you see what I have in mind." you press your lips gently against Tartaglia’s neck, trailing from his adam's apple to that sweet spot right under his ear. "I'm sure you'd deprive some sick form of enjoyment from that, though."

Tartaglia whimpers at the threat. He doesn’t know what would be worse: the current situation or the punishment you offer. Sick form of enjoyment… His mind echoes. He would most likely enjoy anything you gave him right now.

And like an answer to his prayers, you shift on his dick again. Tartaglia watches as your tip pokes above the fabric of your lace panties, even higher than before. The used-to-be white was now a dark grey with the way your pre had stained and wet through the fabric. Your panties were completely soaked through, the bulge from your dick covered in pre from your leaking tip, poking just above the hem.

Slowly, you tug your dick out of the panties, making sure to slather your fingers in your precum before pressing them against Tartaglia’s lips. "Clean them up." You whisper, and the sound of your voice almost makes him melt.

The instant your fingers press against his lips, Tartaglia is eagerly licking them into his mouth, his tongue swirling your digits around and coating them in his spit. He didn’t hesitate to continue sucking on your fingers, despite knowing they were already clean enough.

“Such an eager boy,” You murmur as you yank your fingers from Tartaglia's lips. There’s a string of drool that connects your hand to his pouty lips as he gives you another pleading look.

“Will you let me touch you now?” He begs, “Please, I’ve been so good for you!” Tartaglia licks his lips, savouring the faint taste of you. He wants more, he wants to grab you by the waist and bury his face between your thighs and suck you off until you’re nothing but a mess inside his mouth.

You bring your fingers back down to your dick, swiping them over your tip and harshly pressing them against Tartaglia’s mouth. “Suck.” You command in a harsh voice, completely ignoring his previous question.

Tartaglia’s lips go back around your fingers again. He doesn’t need to be told twice when you’re the one telling him. He easterly laps at your fingers, ignoring the drool that threatens to spill from the corner of his lips. You press your fingers down against his tongue and he chokes lightly, lifting his blue eyes to meet yours,

When you finally pull your fingers out of his mouth, Tartaglia buries his head into your neck about to ask to touch you again—only for you to beat him to it. “You get two minutes to touch me, but you can only use your hands.” You start. “And, we have to stay in this position. No pulling out or thrusting." You press a kiss against Tartaglia’s lips. "Think of it as... encouragement to finish the level faster."

Tartaglia nods happily at your words, pulling off your neck to get a better view of you. “Thank you—thank you, baby, needed this.” He slurs as his eyes rake down your exposed body before honing in on your sensitive cock. He wishes you’d let him lick that instead of your fingers, but you were clear on your rules for the two minutes.

Tartaglia has two minutes, a whole two minutes to make you feel good. There’s no way he’s let them go to waste.

He wastes no time when the game is finally paused. Tartaglia cups your balls gently, feeling the weight of them in his palm. He massages them slowly, his thumb rubbing up and down the underside of your dick, feeling the warmth and the leaking pre that slipps down your shaft. Tartaglia knows nothing can make you cum in this position, but he can make you squirm, he can tease you.

His other hand wanders up, his fingers ghosting over your skin, drawing circles around your nipples before pinching them gently. He wants to hear you moan, to see you writhe. Tartaglia needs to know he was pleasing you. He gazes at your face, waiting to see a reaction, anything to show that he’s making you feel good.

Your eyes roll back and your dick twitches hard against Tartaglia’s hand. “T-Tartaglia…!” You moan out, your back arching into his chest. Tartaglia’s fingers pull gently at you nipples, tweaking and twisting the nubs between his thumb and pointer finger. Your eyes roll back and Tartaglia whines at the sight, sliding his thumb faster up and down your dick, rolling it over your tip before sliding it against your slit.

He feels your hole clench around his dick, and Tartaglia has to squeeze his eyes shut in concentration to stop himself from bucking into you. He’s about to roll his hand again when it’s suddenly pushed away from your leaking dick. You yank his hands off your nipples too, panting as you do. “Two minutes have passed.” You mumble.

Tartaglia knows you were close from the way you sounded to the way you jerked your hips into his hand. “I’m sorry.” He whines, sounding like he’s carrying the weight of the world in his heart.

With a deep breath, Tartaglia focuses back on the game again, he hopes that this time he’ll finally beat the level. He’s determined, he wants to make you cum, to please you. He needs to win.

You slump against his shoulder, clearly needy. Tartaglia sucks in a breath. You were so close. He thinks. His focus turns back to the game, moving the joystick and pressing the rounded buttons as skillfully as he can manage with you taking his cock to the hilt,

Tartaglia feels you lean forward, your hands dipping under the hem of his shirt. “I wanna see you…” You whine and his face flushes. Tartaglia doesn’t have time to respond before the game console is slipping from his hands and you’re tugging his shirt off his figure.

Another eternity passes as Tartaglia picks up the console once again, doing his best to beat the level. He closes his eyes—just about to give up when the victory music blasts throughout the bedroom. “Finally—fuck, fuck, baby.” Tartaglia groans, tossing the console and pouncing on you.

His lips press against yours, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. Tartaglia is kissing you harshly, his lips flush against yours as your tongue gently swirls with his.

He pulls away after a minute, both of your faces flushed and panting. “I-I’m sorry it took me so long.” Tartaglia apologizes. He wants to please you, make you cum, see you lose control just because of him. He was desperate to feel you squirm against him, he wants to see the way your face would twist in pleasure when he fucks you just right.

Tartaglia slowly pulls out, hissing as he leaves your comforting warmth and is met with the harsh, cold outside air.

“Let me take you, please…” He begs, his eyes filled with desire and the need to have you. Tartaglia wanted you—no, needed you. His hand wanders back to your dick, wrapping his palm around your shaft and quickly jerking you up and down at a messy pace.

Tartaglia would do anything to have you come undone on his dick.

“Uh-huh.” You whine, and Tartaglia thinks it’s cute how all your confidence diminishes the instant you're offered some dick.

He watches you twist your body to lay flat against the bed on your back. Slowly, your legs splay into the air before you pull them back and bend them at your knees. Your ass, all empty and clenching around nothing, is now fully exposed to Tartaglia. Your hole is stretched already, from the much too long of a time you spent just sitting on his dick. Your own cock lays across your tummy, twitching and drooling uselessly,

Tartaglia sucks in a breath at the sight of your hole. His dick is throbbing at the sight, pressing angrily against his tummy, so hard and needy. He wants to do nothing more than bury himself inside you, to feel your warm muscle clench around him once more.

Slowly, he lowers himself into a kneeling position right in front of you. Tartaglia dips his head to your ass, pressing light kisses across the curve of your thighs. He trails his mouth down to your dick, taking the tip into his mouth. His eyes roll back at the feeling of finally having you in his mouth. Tartaglia sucks harshly, bobbing his head up and down your length. He runs his tongue over the underside of your shaft.

Tartaglia swirls his tongue around your overly sensitive tip, watching and depriving pure enjoyment of the way your hips buck into his mouth messily. You throw an arm over your face, trying to muffle your breathless moans and flushed face. Tartaglia gives you a harsh suck for warning, letting you know that if you don’t remove your hand now, things would get worse.

You, of course, comply, pushing your hand to the sheets and clenching them in your fist.

Tartaglia hums happily, the vibrations travelling across your shaft. He feels you twitch in his mouth and your legs thrash beside his head, squeezing and pulsing by his ears as he goes faster, making sure to let the drool spill from his lips as he moves his head.

Tartaglia pushes his lips down to your base bringing a hand to fondle your balls gently and you whine, your back arching off the bed. Your hand goes to tangle itself into Tartaglia’s hair, pushing your dick deeper down his throat. “I—holy shit—I’m c-close!” You whine, and that was enough of a signal to pull off your dick.

Tartaglia smears kisses across your ass, ignoring your desperate whines and cries, before eventually leading to your puffy hole, all nice and stretched for him. He’s quick to bury his mouth against you, already feeling his brain go mushy at the feeling. His tongue slips into you easily, and you whine at the feeling.

Tartaglia fucks his tongue into you with great fervour, not even caring for his hard dick. All he can think about is the taste of you on his tongue, the way your hole clenches down so nicely against his mouth and those sweet, sweet moans of: “M-More, please, need you so bad!” That slip from your lips and get his hips rocking his dick into the side of the mattress.

Tartaglia’s tongue pushes and prods into you, again and again until he hears you moan loudly. His eyes dart up, barely able to catch the way your back arches. Your legs shake around him yet again, your thighs squeezing around his ears, which only drives him to thrust his tongue into you further. Drool slips down his chin, but he doesn’t care, all he wants is to taste you again, and again, because, fuck, if he died right here, between your thighs, he would die a happy man.

“Right there!” You cry, Your legs threatening to squeeze tightly on Tartaglia’s head. He pushes his tongue in again, thrusting it in and out of your hole with a scary precision, making sure he hits your prostate every time.

“O-Oh, my—fuck, can’t take it!” You whine and he smirks against your tightening hole. “I need you, please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease!” You’re a complete mess, babbling nonsense as he eats you out, eyes rolling back and legs shaking in ecstasy,

All it took was him shoving a finger in, curling it in time with his tongue, for you to cum. Tartaglia eagerly pulls off your ass, watching as your dick twitches against your tummy and ropes of cum shoot from your member. He waits until you're finished before pressing his face against the mess you just made and licking it clean.

Tartaglia looks up at you from his position against your belly. “I….” He whines. “I’m still hard.” He gives an apologetic smile before going back to his first position in front of the bed, this time standing up. He lifts your collapsed legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he slaps his cock beside your limp one.

As quickly as he can, Tartaglia grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand and smears it all over his shaft. “Help me out, pretty boy.” He whines and you whimper at the nickname. Slowly, you push yourself onto your elbows just enough to push your hand to his dick and help him spread the lube.

Tartaglia doesn’t even bother to continue once you start, only throwing his head back with a loud groan. “That’s it, o-oh, archons you’re good at this.” His eyes squeeze shut and Tartaglia has to stop himself from cumming on the spot for the nth time tonight. He doesn’t even bother to lube your hole, only murmuring a sweet, “This pussies wet enough for me, right?” before he’s pressing a messy kiss to your neck.

“Not a pussy.” You slur, but he doesn't take any mind.

“D-Don’t worry, baby.” Tartaglia coos as he presses his thick tip against your weak hole. “Promise it’ll feel so good…” He wants to be inside you, to make you come again and again.

And suddenly, he’s halfway in, the thick of Tartaglia’s shaft being swallowed almost whole by your pretty ass was almost enough to make him cum right then and there. You whine lowly, back instinctively arching into him, forcing yourself deeper onto his dick.

“Fuck, baby, look what you do t’me.” He groans, pulling out so it’s just his tip stuck in your pretty, clenching hole. Tartaglia fucks his tip into you, watching it messily slide out then in, then out then in, over and over again until he can’t take it anymore and can’t help but want more.

Tartaglia—like the pathetic man he knows he is—can’t take it anymore. He pushes in fully, but just before he does, spits a large glob of drool from his lips to the tip of your spent cock watching it twitch under the feeling. He laughs, watching your dick twitch back to life. “And to think you get off to me spitting on you.” He murmurs, before finally thrusting in fully, in one, harsh movement.

The moan you let out is so pretty and high, and Tartaglia can feel his balls grow heavy at the sound. Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the lewd squelch of his dick pressing in, in, in and against your prostate, his tip knocking easily at it.

Tartaglia pistons his hips into you, basking in the moans and pleas for “more, more, more!” that slipped from your pretty lips. He’s pounding into you, and Tartaglia watches your head fall back against the pillow. Your hands shake as you desperately reach out to grab onto the sheets for leverage as he pushes your legs up, leaning down onto your body as he forces you into a mating press.

And, oh, Tartaglia feels like he just slipped so much deeper into you, and with the way your walls squeeze and clench and you moan his name like a mantra—Tartaglia is sure he’s just died and reached heaven.

His thrusts start to lose their rhythm, but they still manage to fill you up so much that, before Tartaglia can process what’s happening, you're crying out, your ass clenching so tightly against him he thinks he sees stars.

“I—I’m close, ‘m so close!” You cry and Tartaglia can’t help but bury his face into your neck as he thrust into your ass.

“Me too, baby.” He whimpers out. Tartaglia reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his much larger ones, before letting out a loud moan. “Together, please, baby, cum together.”

And you’re eagerly nodding your head, a mix of “yes” and “please” leaving your lips. Tartaglia isn’t even pulling out anymore, just knocking his hips against yours—no rhythm or pattern, just instinct as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Cummin’ o-oh—fuck!” You whine and Tartaglia instantly does too, feeling the way your dick spurts thick ropes of white onto your chest and his only drives him to the edge. He buries himself as deep as he can before collapsing onto you, pressing his full weight onto his hips. Tartaglia shoots a thick load of his seed into your awaiting hole, whining in content as he feels you milk his cock, squeezing down on him.

You’re panting, laying on the bed with Tartaglia pressed on top of you. His arms snake around your waist, tugging and twisting your connected bodies so that he’s spooning you, his chin resting on top of you’re head.

After a minute of rest, Tartaglia’s arms squeeze around your waist. “Love you, so much.” He murmurs tiredly.

“Promise?” You giggle back, despite the feeling of your exhaustion weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“Always an’ forever.” Tartaglia whispers sweetly. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer as the two of you bask in the afterglow in each other’s arms. “I’ll love you, always and forever.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

—༉‧₊˚. “ Whatcha watching? ”

featuring. Childe from Genshin impact MAU | kink. peeking

synopsis. You were heading toward your friend childes dorm room to give him some college hw he missed out on in one of your early morning lectures. When you go to his place however he doesnt respond leaving you no choice but to let yourself in.

authors note. I think I hate this one…but that may just be me…

You knock on Childe's apartment door, waiting to drop off his college homework. After minutes later of no answer, you reached out for the door handle to find out the door was unlocked. Since the two of you knew each other for a while you thought it wouldn’t be that much of an invasion of privacy letting yourself in his apartment without him knowing.

Opening the door, you step inside and head towards his bedroom. As you approached, you heared moans coming from some type of device.

Peeking around the corner of the halfway opened bedroom door, your eyes widen as you saw Childe sitting on his bed, pants around his ankles, stroking his hard cock while watching porn.

The video plays on repeat, showing a girl who looks exactly like you in a skimpy outfit, moaning and pleasuring herself. Childe's eyes are glued to the screen, completely absorbed in the lewd scene. His hand moving rhythmically along his shaft, squeezing and stroking it with increasing intensity.

You watch him for a few moments, mesmerized by his focused expression, the way his muscles flex with each movement. How his orange hair falls messily over his forehead, and how his blue eyes shine with lust as he continues to touch himself.

Noticing your presence, Childe jumped, startled. His face flushed red with embarrassment as he quickly closes the laptop. He scrambles to pull up his sweatpants, trying to hide his still-hard member.

“[Y/N!] What are you doing here? I didn't hear you come in...”

He stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in such a compromising position. His blue eyes dart around nervously, unable to meet your gaze.

“It's not what it looks like, I swear! I was just...uh...researching for a project...”

As he spoke, you noticed a wet spot forming on the front of his pants, betraying his obvious arousal. The sight made you feel all warm and you find yourself getting turned on by what you just saw.

You decide to play along with his story, not wanting to make him feel too uncomfortable.

“Oh, research? That's interesting. What kind of project could possibly require that kind of research…”

You asked with a playful smirk, watching as Childe squirmed under your scrutiny. His cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red, as he fidgets with his hands.

Childe shifts uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze as he tries to come up with a believable excuse. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, messing it further.

“W-well, you know how I've been working on that short story for my creative writing class? I was just trying to get some, uh, inspiration for a particularly steamy scene...”

He trailed off, his voice wavering slightly. His eyes flicker towards you briefly before darting away again, as if he's afraid to look at you directly.

You raise an eyebrow, amused by his state. A mischievous idea began to form in your mind, and you decide to have a little more fun with the situation.

“Oh, I see. Well, since you're in need of inspiration, maybe I could help you out. After all, I am your muse, aren't I?”

You take a step closer to him, your voice taking on a teasing lilt. Childe's eyes widen, and he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly in his throat.

“Y-you? My muse? What..makes you think that?”

Despite his words, you notice his gaze lingering on your curves, taking in the way your clothing hugged your figure in just the right ways.

“Come on, Childe. You know Im not dumb..”

“If you have a thing for me just say it already.”

You reach out and trail a finger along his jawline, feeling the heat of his skin. Childe shudders at your touch, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I... .. fuck.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you press closer to him, your breasts brushing against his chest.

Childe's breath became faster now, his pupils dilating with desire. He seemed to be fighting against his own urges, torn between his shame and his growing need for release.

“What's wrong with a little harmless fun? I promise, it'll be just like in the porno you were watching earlier.”

You let your hand slide down his chest, tracing the contours of his abs through his shirt. Childe's muscles tense under your touch, and a low groan escaped his lips.

“We shouldn't...”

But even as he protests, his body betrayed him. His erection strained against his pants, making it so he can no longer hide his arousal. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face, as he grapples with his desires and his sense of propriety.

Sensing his weakness, you decide to push him further. You lean in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper.

“Don't you want to know what it feels like? It’ll help tons..with your ‘research’ ”

You nipped gently at his earlobe, Childe shudders, a soft gasp escaping his lips. His hands come to rest on your hips, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating as he gives in.

“ God, [Y/N]... I want you so bad...”

He finally admits, his voice thick with lust. You smile triumphantly, knowing that you've broken through his defenses. You pull back slightly, your eyes locking with his as you both acknowledge the raging desire between you.

“Then why don't you show me what you've learned from all that research? I'm sure you can teach me a thing or two...”

With that, you press your lips against his in a passionate kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth to taste him fully. Childe responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body as he explores every curve.

You break the kiss, panting heavily, and start to undo the buttons of your shirt. Childe's eyes widen as more and more skin is revealed to him, and he licks his lips in anticipation.

“You're so beautiful.”

His voice is filled with awe and desire, and it sends a thrill through your body. You finish unbuttoning your shirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and skirt.

Childe leans in, his lips trailing hot kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts from their confines. He groans appreciatively at the sight, his eyes dark with lust.

“Touch me, Childe...”

You guide his hands to your breasts, encouraging him to explore and caress them. Childe doesn't need any more encouragement, and he begins to knead and squeeze your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

As he continues to worship your breasts, you reach down and start to lower his pants, freeing his rock-hard erection. You wrap your hand around it, stroking him slowly as he groans in pleasure.

“Oh god, [Y/N]... That feels amazing...”

He thrusts into your hand, his hips moving in time with your strokes. You can feel the heat emanating from his member, and it only fuels your own desire.

*You release him from your grip and push him back onto the bed. Straddling him, you grind your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressing against your clothed sex. Childe's hands grip your hips, helping you move against him.

The friction between your bodies builds as you grind against Childe, your clothed sex rubbing against his hard length. Moans of pleasure escape both of your lips as the sensations become more intense.

“Fuck, [Y/N]... You feel so good... I need to be inside you.”

His voice is rough with desire, and you can feel his hips bucking up against you, seeking more contact. You reach down and unzip your skirt, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in just your lacy panties.

Childe's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze focused on the damp patch on your underwear. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them aside, exposing your wet folds to his hungry gaze.

You position yourself over him, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto him, inch by inch, until he's fully sheathed inside you.

A deep moan tears from your throat as you feel him stretching you, filling you completely. Childe grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights the urge to thrust up into you.

“Oh fuck, [Y/N]... You're so tight... So perfect...”

He starts to move beneath you, his hips rising to meet your downward motions. The rhythm building between you, growing more intense with each passing second.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you ride him harder. Your breasts bounce with each movement, and Childe reaches up to cup them, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples once more.

The combination of sensations is almost too much to bear, and you feel your climax building deep within you. Your inner walls start to flutter around Childe's cock, and he moans in response.

“I'm going to cum, Childe... Don't stop...”

Your words spur him on, and he thrusts up into you harder, faster, his own release approaching. With a final, powerful thrust, you both reach your peaks, crying out.

As your orgasm crashes over you, your body trembles with the force of it. Wave after wave of pleasure washes through you, and you cling to Childe, your nails digging into his chest as you ride out your climax.

Childe's grip on your hips tightens, and his body goes rigid beneath you. With a guttural moan, he releases inside you, his hot seed filling you up. The feeling of his essence pulsing within you sends another shockwave of pleasure through your body, prolonging your orgasm.

For several long moments, you both remain still. Finally, Childe loosens his grip on your hips, and you collapse onto his chest, both of you panting heavily.

You giggle softly, nuzzling into his neck. Childe wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he catches his breath.

“Round two?” Childe joked suppressing a laugh.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

Gosh. When are we going to marry Childe?

Chapter 6: The Final Day

📂 – pairing for this chapter : scaramouche x reader and abit of childe x reader

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📂 – author’s note : all credit goes to their rightful owner! I do not own anything unfortunately

📂 – word count : 8.7k

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The Empress’ demeanour was as remote and as cold as a glacier. Childe stood dazed as he looked at her profile. Her low, gentle voice captivated his ears but her icy voice even more so. How would it sound if she said his name like that?

Childe swallowed dryly as his imagination made his head spin. He wanted to kneel before that overbearing empress and pour kisses on her hand. He wanted to hear her speak in that cold voice and issue commands to him. How would it feel to obey her orders and then to rebel?

It had started out as curiosity. He was curious about the empress of Inazuma, and so he travelled as far as the palace to see her. Despite rumours that she was made of steel or ice, she was surprisingly soft and charming towards birds.

The rumours weren’t exactly wrong, however, he was surprised to see another side of her. He felt sympathy for the way she put up a strong front while she cried in secret. He heard her talking to herself while trying to hold back her tears. If the people had seen this side of her, they would think she is not the emperor’s beloved empress. 

But to him, she was incredible. He had thought that beneath her strong appearance was a vulnerable figure, but he realised that soon enough that it was false.

The feeling of curiosity and attraction turned into anxiety after actually meeting her. Why did she ignore him when he tried to make himself known? Why did she pretend not to know him? Why wasn’t she trying to look for him? Why didn't she stop Lumine when she was impersonating her? Were the comforts of the letters, the jokes that they had been shared, simply a one-sided feeling? Or perhaps it would hurt her pride if someone were to take care of her.

But as Childe drew closer to her, he became even more angry. He didn’t like seeing the things that burdened her or caused her pain. He knew from experience that controlling one’s reputation was difficult, to the point that he had almost gotten in a fight about it in the past.

“Are you jealous of Lumine, by any chance?”

As the Empress’ jaw hardened at Scaramouche’s insult, Prince Childe was overcome with an even more violent impulse than in the dining room. The frozen empress was charming, but the things that made her that way were definitely not. He could hear Diluc’s voice in his head, repeatedly telling him to not cause an incident involving the Emperor of the Inazuma Empire. It irritated Childe so much that he could not officially stand up to defend the Empress' honour.

“Your Majesty the Emperor. You must be more discerning.”

Eventually, Childe spoke. He knew Diluc would be furious when he found out about this. Their king was bedridden so the court affairs were in chaos. Did he really want to antagonise the Emperor of the Inazuma Empire? Despite this, Childe couldn’t help but speak up.

“This doesn’t concern you, Prince Childe.”

“I’m a witness. How can I keep my nose out of this?”

Childe added a grin as he stood next to the Empress.

“Your Majesty, do not worry. I will be the one to spread rumours about the truth. Your reputation will not be tarnished by this mistake.”

Things could have gotten worse if it were not for Diluc, who came running to Prince Childe’s side and stole him away.

“I heard you say something about reputation. Are you changing course?”

Childe walked in silence to the southern palace as Diluc started to nag at him again.

“Do what you usually do, Prince. Don’t fight from the front, fight from behind instead. Why were you trying to start a fight with someone and with the Inazuma Emperor no less? That could have potentially broke our political affairs with the Inazuma Empire? At this rate, us spying on the Inazuma Empire will be exposed soon enough.”

Diluc’s nagging got worse as soon as he closed the door, yet Childe ignored him and pulled up a chair.

“What are you going to do with the chair? Are you going to hit me?”

“Sit down.”

As Diluc sat down, Childe touched his head and forced some of his delusion into him. With a cry, Diluc had turned into a red bird and the clothes he had worn, tumbled to the ground. Diluc’s eyes widened in confusion when he saw Prince Childe taking out a piece of letter from his desk and tied it to his leg.

 -?

“Deliver this to Ayato.”

– …

“I won’t get myself in trouble, so go and deliver it. I’ll fight from behind, just as you said.” 

.

.

.

“Prince Childe seems to be a completely different person than the rumours suggest.”

Countess Jean, who was playing chess nearby, turned her head at my faintly spoken words.

“Hm? What did you say, Your Highness?”

I turned my book upside down and placed it on my lap. Could I tell them this? Would it sound strange?

My ladies-in-waiting knew I was the real letter friend, and so there was no need for me to say anything more. However, I thought it would be helpful if I could change any of the rumours about Prince Childe with my own words…

“Prince Childe. He seems better than I thought.”

I spoke nonchalantly as I picked up my teacup from the table and took a sip. Yoimiya, who was playing opposite of Countess Jean, surreptitiously changed a horse’s position while the Countess was not looking.

“Right. And he knew that the maid and the slave didn’t write those letters! Ah—that was wrong. Anyway, he found out quickly. Even though he’s a womaniser, he’s more faithful than other nobles.”

Countess Jean had slapped Yoimiya on the back of her hand and restored the horse’s original position on the board.

“Yoimiya is right. Though he may seem like a carefree person, he’s not frivolous.”

A lady-in-waiting sitting comfortably on an armchair gave a vindictive laugh.

“Even more so, I liked it when the slave’s lie came to light.”

Other comments from the other ladies-in-waiting started to spring up as well.

“Did you see how his blood pressure went up when she lied to him so shamelessly?” 

“The foreign nobles who mingle with her must have come to their senses by now.” 

However, Beidou, who was silently standing by the door until now had immediately thrown cold water into the situation.

“I don’t believe so.” 

At Beidou’s certain tone, the ladies-in-waiting all turned to her with questioning expressions. The knight nervously scratched her cheek, as if overwhelmed by the beautiful ladies looking at her all at once.

“Baron Thoma is responsible for Miss Lumine’s affairs, and the way he talks about her is…different.”

“Different? How so?”

Yoimiya's eyes were wide as she questioned her. In curiosity, I had set the now empty cup back on the table and had also turned to look at Beidou .

I knew Baron Thoma—he was Scarmouche’s personal secretary, and quite a brilliant man. Moreover, if he was extremely fond of Lumine, it would only be beneficial for her when Baron Thoma comes forward and turns the rumours around.

“Because of Miss Lumine’s beauty and charm, some say that the Emperor and Prince Childe are fighting over her.”

When two conflicting rumours spread, there would at least cause a commotion between people who believed one story or the other. Baron Thoma had definitely planned this out carefully.

Yoimiya shut the chessboard in frustration.

“I absolutely despise her!”

“Watch your mouth, Yoimiya. You are now a lady-in-waiting of the Empress, and offensive language will only hurt Her Majesty’s image.”

“I am careful with my words in front of others, Countess Jean. Yet still…I have no other way to express my emotions!”

Then, as Yoimiya cried out her frustration, there was a tap on the window.

“Queen!”

It had been several days since he came here last, and I quickly got up and opened the window to let him in. I was so happy to see him after such a long time that I held him tightly.

– !

Queen tried to embrace me with his wings, and Yoimiya had finally calmed down and gave a giggle.

“That bird is so sweet. Look at how he holds Her Majesty. Maybe he’s actually not a bird.”

– !

I scolded the ladies for teasing Queen, then I gently placed him on my lap and stroked his head.

Queen's large purple eyes closed as he started to doze off, but he occasionally got startled and looked at me.

“I missed you.”

I confessed my feelings frankly to him, and he peered at me as if he understood me.

“…”

Strange. Why did this bird remind me of Prince Childe? Well, perhaps it was because Prince Childe was the bird’s owner.

“Ah.”

I almost forgot to check the note on his leg. I took the piece of paper from his leg, and opened it while setting Queen aside .

– I had wagered my identity. Why didn't you want to participate in the bet? 

Did Prince Childe know that I was the letter acquaintance or not? A few hours ago, I told myself that the writer was Prince Childe, but I didn’t even have the time to ask him because Scaramouche and I immediately fought…

I hesitated before writing my response.

– Please keep our friendship by letter only. 

Queen watched me patiently as I wrote. As soon as I lifted my hand from the paper, he checked the contents, then made strange noises and started jumping up and down.

– Gu! Gu! Gu!

He seemed to be criticising me on behalf of his owner.

“Don’t be so upset, Queen. I prefer it this way.”

– Gu!

“If your master and I meet each other, we will be the Inazuma Empress and the Snezhnaya Prince, not as friends that are able to speak casually to each other. We would have to be careful about how we behave with each other in front of other people.”

– …

“I have become a source of entertainment because of Scaramouche and Lumine. Under these circumstances, the rumours will worsen if it’s discovered that I’m exchanging letters with a womaniser.”

Maybe it was because Queen had seemed so intelligent, but before I knew it, I was confessing my true feelings.

Queen’s beak opened as if in surprise. I closed his beak shut and hurriedly added an explanation.

“I know your master is not as bad as the rumours say. I think he’s a good person, in fact. Hm? Ha ha, why are you embarrassed?”

.

.

.

Lumine laid down on the bed in a thin lavender nightgown, hugging a cushion. Lying next to her was Scaramouche, who was running his fingers through her soft blonde hair.

“Prince Childe is known for his cruelty and for being a womaniser. Don’t trust people so blindly from now on.”

 “Lumine didn’t know…”

“It’s alright. Anyone can make mistakes. Just don’t make that same mistake in the future.”

“But this isn’t Lumine’s fault, right?”

“Of course. It was that man who had caused a disturbance.”

Lumine leaned her head against Scaramouche’s shoulder.

“But I’m glad His Majesty protected Lumine.”

“I’m glad too. I hope you’re feeling better.”

“Tomorrow is the special banquet! Let’s just relax and socialise with people! I want to be friends with Princess Amber.”

Lumine smiled and patted the cushion like a drum. Scaramouche, who normally would have smiled at her adoorable behaviour, was suddenly as stiff as a stone.

“What’s wrong, Your Majesty?”

“You…”

“Your Majesty?”

“Lumine, you won’t be able to attend the special banquet tomorrow.”

Lumine stared at Scaramouche with wide eyes. He felt sheepish after giving her the unexpected news, except that was not the way it should be.

“What? Why not, Your Majesty?”

“There can only be twenty special guests.”

“Can’t I be one of them?”

“The Empress and I had invited ten people each, and we’ve already sent out the invitations…”

“You can be flexible and add one more…”

“But Lumine , the moment we are flexible, the special banquet becomes less special.”

Lumine made a shocked, unblinking expression at his refusal, and Scaramouche felt forced to explain.

“As I said, it’s only for those invited. I don’t know why you would think it would suddenly change.”

“Lumine is your concubine. Your lady. Lumine thought she could go without being invited…You should have invited her too.”

Lumine’s face was red as she whimpered.

“Oh goodness, Lumine.”

Scaramouche took out a handkerchief and patted away the tears that had sprung up in her eyes. But the tears gathered again, and the handkerchief was useless.

“Do you really wish to go?”

“I told everyone at the dinner that I would go to the special banquet.” 

“…”

Scaramouche frowned.

“You should’ve asked me.”

“It’s strange to ask. Besides, His Majesty took Lumine to dinner with the special guests, so of course Lumine thought…”

“It’s my fault.”

Scaramouche sighed and rubbed Lumine's shoulder, but she kept crying, waiting for Scaramouche to change his words. However, no matter how long she waited, it did not happen.

“So in the end, you’re not taking me.”

Lumine wept like a child, and Scaramouche clenched his jaw at the innocence of it. Having only seen the court nobles cry silently, he was amazed whenever Lumine expressed her true feelings honestly.

“I’m sorry, Lumine. Don’t cry.”

“You saw what happened today. If Lumine doesn’t go, Prince Childe will say something to the guests. He said he was going to spread rumours.”

Lumine had a point, and Scaramouche sighed again. However, many of the guests consisted of foreign royal family members and powerful nobles, and were considered the most important people of the year. To set aside an important guest to allow a concubine could cause an international problem.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there. I won’t let Prince Childe say anything strange.”

Lumine’s expression was still morose. After stewing on the subject, Scaramouche finally let out a sigh.

“I will ask the Empress if she can spare a seat. Some of the guests are subjects of this country, so we won’t have to worry about an international problem.” 

.

.

.

The morning sun shone through the thin curtains, casting shadows on the floor in the shape of the window frames.

I yawned and raised myself from the bed. My heart wasn’t heavy despite the incident from yesterday. Perhaps it was because of Prince Childe and Queen…

I patted my face to wake myself up, then went to the bathroom to wash my face. Behind me, my ladies-in-waiting prepared the bathtub with petals and salts. My clothes were removed and I sank into the warm water, allowing my muscles to relax. I closed my eyes and leaned against the bathtub as the ladies-in-waiting massaged my head with careful hands. 

After the bath, I put on a robe and went into the bedroom. As it was the last day of the New Year’s celebration and the day of the special banquet, the dress selected for me was extravagant, but not overly so, and simultaneously captured a sense of calm and elegance.

After getting dressed, I placed on my diamond earrings and crown. The crown wasn’t made for ceremonial purposes, and wasn’t too large and heavy. I looked over my notes on the special guests while the ladies styled my hair to match the crown.

However, before they could finish, one of Scaramouche’s secretaries arrived. As I was already dressed, I allowed him in, and the secretary had conveyed Scaramouche’s words with great embarrassment.

“Your Majesty, the Emperor would like a word with you.”

“Now?” 

“Yes, it’s about the special banquet, so please come quickly—”

It had to be urgent if it was about the special banquet. I nodded and ordered the ladies to quickly finish my hair.

“We’ll put it back together when you get back.”

“Is that alright? I don’t want to bother you twice.”

“It’s fine.”

“Then you may have your breakfast first while I’m gone.”

Various scenarios about the guests ran through my head when I had followed Scaramouche’s secretary to the eastern palace. Did someone suddenly declare war on our Empire? Have one of the foreign guests complained about the country or did one of them offend us? Has anyone suddenly announced their absence?

“What’s going on?” 

I immediately questioned Scaramouche as soon as I entered his room. Lumine was sitting on the bed, but I pretended not to know her. However, I did notice her staring at me—no, staring at the crown on my head, to be more exact.

I frowned in discomfort, but Lumine continued to stare with a bewitched expression and did not look away. Scaramouche was the first to speak.

“Can you make room for one more person?”

“Is something wrong? Are there any reports that Secretary Sucrose or the Chief Magician Albedo are able to attend?”

The secretary and the chief magician were those who originally had reservations. They were invited by Scaramouche, but they did not attend the New Year’s ceremony because they had declined as they were both busy.

“No, it’s not them.”

“Then…?”

Who on earth were we supposed to set up a seat for? I studied Scaramouche closely, who seemed caught in an awkward silence.

“I want to take Lumine with me…”

“…”

“Can you do that?”

“…”

“Empress? Why won’t you talk to me?”

I was going to apologise, but quickly shoved it down my throat as I felt it was not something I should be apologising for nor was it my fault.

“No, Your Majesty.”

Scaramouche’s brow furrowed at my flat refusal.

“One seat is fine. There is surely one or two people the Empress can ask.”

“It’s possible to ask for consent if they agree. But if Secretary Sucrose or the Chief Magician Albedo came, they would be offended by the sudden cancellation of the invitation…for your concubine.”

Scaramouche’s expression turned even colder.

“I have an idea on what your words mean, Empress.”

“The answer would have been the same if it had been my lover, or even if it had been another concubine that was not Lumine.”

“Then why don’t we exclude people such as Duchess Ningguang?”

“Unlike you, I do not wish to hurt the people I cherish, Your Majesty.”

“!”

I could tell that Scaramouche believed that I was a heartless person. It was clear as day by the lines between his brows were more obvious than usual, and the narrowing of his eyes.

“The empress is cold.”

“As I should be.”

“What?”

An international embarrassment could happen if Scaramouche disregarded his guests, and the blame would fall to him. But if I set aside a guest for Lumine, I would be blamed for doing something as simple as this to impress both Lumine and Scaramouche. A similar rumour had already spread after Scaramouche gave Lumine gifts under my name. While that incident was disgraceful on a personal level, disrespecting guests would directly be judged by society.

But Scaramouche’s behaviour wasn’t a mistake. Even at this moment, he was smart. He was forcing me to act this way to protect himself and soothe Lumine’s heart.

“I’m not intentionally being cruel. Lumine is your concubine, not mine. I don’t know why you’re trying to force me to do things even you, the Emperor, cannot do.”

I was too angry to explain it further to him, so I deliberately turned away. Scaramouche’s jaw was clenched and Lumine glanced at me with a frightened look, but I wasn’t feeling any better at all. I gave my farewell as etiquette as I could, and then left the room with a stately walk. 

.

.

.

When I arrived at the western palace, I found the ladies anxiously waiting for me.

“You should have eaten without me.”

“How could we? We wondered if something terrible happened again.”

“You don’t look good whenever you see the Emperor these days.”

After calming them down, we ate breakfast together, but after that meeting with Scaramouche, all my appetite has vanished. However, I managed to slightly fill my stomach with some soup and pudding. 

Afterwards, the ladies-in-waiting went to prepare themselves for the party, so I sat alone at my desk to check the schedule after the New Year’s celebrations. Firstly, I had to see off the foreign guests, as well as accommodate those that wished to stay longer. I had to also handle any reports of incidents thoroughly such as if any foreigner had a legal problem, it had to be settled before they crossed the border.

The day had passed quickly, and it was time for the feast. I took another look of myself in the mirror, and also saw that each of my ladies-in-waiting were splendidly dressed as well.

“Will you come to the party after the special banquet?”

“I don’t know. I have to check the time…what’s wrong, Yoimiya?”

“Ayaka—no, Lady Ayaka is ill and cannot go to the party. If neither you nor her come, I’ll just show my face and leave quickly.”

Yoimiya, who preferred to mingle with her peers, did not seem very interested in socialising with the other noblewomen.

“I’ll be there if you wait for me, Yoimiya.”

I gave her my promise, and Yoimiya smiled with excitement and quickly went to the grand hall for the party. The other ladies-in-waiting also followed suit, while I went to the Red Rose room for the special banquet.

Lively music filled the air, and the special guests were gathered together in groups of three or four. I walked towards Princess Amber, with a casual nod to everyone else, when I came across Grand Duke Dainsleif first, who was holding a champagne glass. A large statue holding a flower basket and sword and a servant carrying champagne bottles stood symmetrically on either side of him, leaving no other way to pass.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A nod wouldn’t suffice as he was right in front of me, so I smiled and spoke to him. Before I bowed in greeting, it occurred to me that he ignored both me and Lumine yesterday.

“…Your Majesty.”

Fortunately, Grand Duke Dainsleif did not turn a blind eye to me this time. He didn’t answer my question, however.

“Does the food suit your taste?”

I gave him a small bow for the second time without realising it. Instead of answering me, he stared at me again. His long, sharp eyes were something fierce.

This was Grand Duke Dainsleif’s first invitation to the banquet, and I had never interacted with this man until last year. I had little knowledge of his character. All I knew was that he was a grand duke from a desert country, and had graduated first from a magical academy.

As I waited for his reply, Dainsleif asked me his own question out of nowhere.

“Is this the state of the Eastern Empire?”

“What do you mean?”

“In Khaenri'ah, the King’s and Queen’s emotions are one. ”

“The king and queen as one… That’s amazing.”

” …You know what it means?”

“Not enough to say I’m fluent. Only a few basic words.”

When I lifted my eyebrows, he opened his eyes in surprise and continued.

“If the King’s lover is in front of her, she would be killed immediately.”

“!”

“Are you not able to do that, Your Majesty?”

“I’m afraid that in this great empire I cannot kill a person for no reason, even if I am an empress. A trial must be held first.”

“Foolish that you cannot eat soup out of your own bowl.”

Was he saying that I didn’t have proper control of the Lumine yesterday? However, just as there were the laws in the country of Khaenri'ah, there were the laws of the Inazuma Empire. In my country, concubines were legally approved. And if an empress ever killed an emperor’s mistress? There was the strong possibility of the empress being thrown into prison.

Then what did that leave me? My whole future I had prepared for my whole life, thrown away just for a little excitement? Would I bet my life just to kill a runaway slave that stole my husband? Before giving an answer, however, Grand Duke Dainsleif left with his glass of champagne.

I gave a relieved sigh. He probably thought of me as pathetic.

‘How strange. It was Scaramouche that made Lumine a concubine, so why am I the pathetic woman?’

Unfortunately, Princess Amber seemed to have moved elsewhere in the room. I shook my head and looked around to find another person, when my gaze landed on Duchess Ningguang.

“Queen.”

There was a low voice from behind me. As soon as I turned my head, I found Prince Childe right before me.

“How are you—”

Before I could ask him how he was, he spoke again.

“I’d like to talk to you for a moment.” 

.

.

.

Prince Childe’s expression was a mix of both serious and sad. He didn’t have his usual smile or proud bearing. I motioned for him to speak, remembering that he had helped me.

“It’s alright.” 

Prince Childe picked up two champagne glasses from a passing servant, and with his eyes pointed towards a spot where the music was loudest and would cover our conversation. The open area left no room for the other guests to misunderstand, even if I was with the much-gossiped-about Prince Childe. He was a surprisingly thoughtful man…

As I admired him, Prince Childe extended to me a glass of champagne, which I accepted. He didn’t drink his, however, and simply fiddled with his glass, while I still stood and waited for him to speak. Finally, he carefully opened his mouth.

“I had read your message, Your Majesty. You want to keep our friendship only by letter.”

“You know that it’s me?”

All I had said yesterday was that I knew it was not Lumine. How did he know it was me? When I looked up at him, Prince Childe hurriedly waved his hand and gave an awkward smile.

“Don’t be alarmed. You did not make a mistake.”

“Then …?”

“Both Lady Lumine and her maid knew the contents of the early letters, but not the later ones. So I had thought about it. I found out that a lady-in-waiting named Viscountess Mona had recently transferred from the Empress to Lady Lumine.”

So that’s how he figured it out…

But I was still surprised. Rumours had it that Prince Childe was a womaniser, a cruel man, a person who kept bad company. I had never heard a rumour that he was exceedingly intelligent, and I smiled a little.

But the prince still looked forlorn, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was disappointed that I was the letter acquaintance, even though I’d rather not have it revealed in the beginning. It would be less embarrassing for the both of us to ignore it. So why was his face so stiff?

“Are you alright? You don’t look very happy.”

Prince Childe sighed as he stared at me.

“How can I be happy? I imagined us as good friends, but you want to pretend not to know me in real life?”

Was that really as coldhearted as it sounds? I would have thought he was exaggerating, but the way he looked so forlorn made me swallow my protest. He downed his champagne glass in one smooth motion.

“In fact, I don’t have many friends to share my thoughts with.”

Prince Childe set his empty glass down on the statue pedestal and continued, his voice thick.

“I know. It’s unexpected, isn’t it? Am I popular? Yes. I have many friends. I always have people around me, so you may think I am not lonely.”

“?”

“But that is only what you see. In fact, I’m very lonely. It’s not that I hate my friends—I have many good ones. However, as the prince of the Snezhnaya, I cannot honestly share my thoughts, and always have to be conscious of others.”

“!”

I looked at him in surprise. Those were almost my exact same thoughts. It was as if—as if Queen listened to me and delivered those words straight to Prince Childe.

“It’s not a problem about the people, but my own, so there’s no way to improve it…”

I stared steadily at Prince Childe, as I realised I wasn’t the only one with those thoughts. I had always believed Prince Childe behaved without regard to what other people thought of him, but it was all an act too…

“I loved being able to talk to someone without them thinking of me as ‘Prince Childe or ‘Crown Prince.’ Our conversations weren’t long, but I was happy to have someone exchange lighthearted letters to.”

“…”

I felt just the same. I became a princess when I was young, and this was the first time since with my family that I felt I could open up my heart. Not because there weren’t good people, but because “a good person” and “a person I can reveal my innermost thoughts to” were not the same.

“I’ve always looked forward to those letters. Honestly, I was even happier when I knew that my letter acquaintance was you, Your Majesty. And I had thought you would feel the same but instead you seemed reluctant and inconvenienced.”

Prince Childe sighed, his eyes becoming moist. As I faced those eyes, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I sympathised with everything he said, and felt further shame.

“We had the same thoughts, but different conclusions.”

Prince Childe looked at me with those wet eyes and sighed again, his mysterious violet irises glistening like jewels under the chandelier’s light. There almost seemed to be resentment in his expression. I could either be his friend, or I could end it like this.

“I understand what you feel, Prince Childe.”

“But you still only want to exchange letters?”

“I enjoyed them.”

“Outside of letters, it will be even more enjoyable.”

“…”

“You can just tell me that Scaramouche is a bitch.”

“Keup!”

I choked when Prince Childe tossed all dignity out of the window. Everyone stared at me as I coughed, and Prince Childe lowered his voice once again and whispered, “Scaramouche is a bitch.”

What kind of person…

Prince Childe raised his eyebrows and gave a silly grin.

“There is nothing more funny than watching someone suppress a laugh. Just laugh if you want to. ”

“…”

“If you don’t laugh, your heart will ache.”

Ache? Did he have experience in this?

His smile faded, as did his voice. For a moment, Prince Childe stared at the floor, his forehead furrowed in thought.

“Then, can you do something for me? I’ll keep it a secret you, my Queen, are my letter partner. And I’ll also keep it a secret that we are friends.”

“Are we friends?”

“Don’t you know that we’re friends, Queen?”

He gave a strange smile, then he pressed his lips together and continued.

“Instead, it can be like now. If we meet by chance, please don’t ignore me. And if the two of us happen to be alone, don’t avoid me.”

His voice was playful and the smile around his mouth looked light, but his gaze was serious. It sounded like a joke, but I knew it wasn’t.

He gazed at me with those earnest eyes, and I felt a strange sensation of my heart being squeezed lightly with fingernails.

.

.

.

‘They must be talking about me…’

Lumine stared anxiously at the doorway, where inside was the special banquet. It should go smoothly with Scaramouche there, but she was still apprehensive.

Would Prince Childe say anything strange to anyone? The Empress seemed unlikely to spread rumours, but Lumine couldn’t say the same about Prince Childe. Lumine bit her lip and sighed again.

“You look blue today. Are you feeling well?”

Baron Thoma appeared by her side and smiled at her teasingly.

“In truth, I’m not.”

“You’re very honest.”

Lumine smiled and nodded. After Scaramouche, Baron Thoma was her favourite person in the palace. He did not prejudiced her, and when rumours of her and Prince Childe had spread, she had heard that Baron Thoma stepped up to defend her honour. Lumine couldn’t help but like the older man.

“Rest assured, no matter how unruly Prince Childe is, he has no choice but to yield to our Emperor. Although the Snezhnaya Kingdom has been growing in power, it still cannot eclipse the Inazuma Empire.”

“Yes…”

“I will do whatever I can to protect Lady Lumine’s honour, so go enjoy the last day of the celebrations.”

Lumine nodded, and her mood lifted as she smiled. Those who did not scorn her gathered around her in ones or twos, and before long she was surrounded by people who were close to her or who wanted to be close to her. She preened at their attention, and whether because they were being thoughtful or not, no one asked her why she did not go to the special banquet. Lumine sipped wine that was surely five times older than herself, and happily accepted the praise that the nobles lavished on her.

“The contrast between your silver hair and your dark eyes is so enviable.”

“It gives off the feeling of purity, like a lily-of-the-valley.”

“Duchess Ningguang might need to defend her current reputation.”

Duchess Ningguang wasn’t present, as she was likely attending the special banquet, so today, more and more people approached Lumine instead.

‘Today, I am the butterfly of the social circles.’

Lumine was feeling pleasantly tipsy. Even before she became the emperor’s concubine, she knew beauty could be a poison. It was only after much trial did she learn how to use her own beauty as a weapon, but even then she found herself walking a precarious tightrope, always in danger.

But it was different here. Everyone praised her and loved her. Her protector was the most powerful man on earth, and no one could lay a hand on her.

“But didn’t you say you were going to the special banquet? Why are you here now?”

However, it was only less than half an hour later that someone brought up an uncomfortable question.

Lumine stared at the woman who spoke. She was not a memorable aristocrat, and did not have large possessions or had duties important in the Imperial Palace. This was the first time this particular noblewoman mingled with them. The other nobles turned silent at the question, but despite their curiosity, they did not speak up.

“It’s…”

Lumine quickly arranged her thoughts and made up a story.

“It’s because Lumine said it was alright.”

“Oh, Miss Lumine?”

“Important foreign guests usually go to the banquet. Rather than having Lumine attend, she thought it would be better to have someone who would benefit our country. ”

The nobles were delighted over her answer.

“Miss Lumine is so smart for a concubine.”

“Indeed. Many of the previous concubines only spent money and idled away, and held no interest in international affairs at all. Miss Lumine is certainly different from them.”

Lumine smiled shyly and lowered her eyes. Their admiration was as intoxicating as a drug.

“Lumine should help His Majesty.”

Lumine murmured that she wanted another drink, and a number of noblemen quickly offered her a variety of wine glasses. Lumine chose a flute with a light purple liquor, and the face of the young man she had accepted the drink from lit up.

Suddenly, Lumine caught a glimpse of someone over the young man’s shoulders. Someone who should not have been there.

The flute slipped from her hand, and the glass shattered on the floor.

“Miss Lumine, are you all right?”

“What happened?”

Lumine was unable to answer, and quickly jerked her head. But the one who surprised her was not there anymore.

‘Did I see it wrong?’

Lumine forced her heart to calm. Perhaps it was the effects of the alcohol.

‘I drank too much.’

While the servants placed the broken glass on a tray and wiped the liquor off the floor, Lumine repeatedly glanced back to where she had seen the man.

“What’s wrong, Miss Lumine?”

Baron Thoma noticed her strange behaviour and turned towards where she was looking, and she quickly caught the hem of his robe to stop him.

 “Baron Thoma. I have a question.”

“?”

“For the New Year’s celebrations, if a nobleman doesn’t come on the first day…can they come on the last day?”

“Of course. Some may not be able to come to the festivities immediately.”

Lumine lowered her voice.

“Do rural aristocrats come to the New Year’s celebrations? Rural aristocrats with small estates? Do you not help choose the guests?”

“Yes, I help choose them. And even the nobility of a small estate can be invited.”

“Even if they haven’t attended for years?”

“Even if they haven’t attended for a long time, we still send invitations for that reason. We don’t leave them completely alone.”

Lumine’s lips started to quiver, and Baron Thoma’s expression darkened.

“Miss Lumine, what happened?”

Lumine shook her head, then took in her surroundings again and pushed her glass towards him.

“L-Lumine’s going inside. I think I’m drunk.”

She answered unsteadily and waved her hand to get out of the crowd. There was nothing to worry about if she made a drunken mistake, but if not—it would be dangerous.

That man…Viscount Lawrence. The lord of the estate where she was a slave. He knew Lumine’s face.

As she was leaving, a loud voice behind Lumine proclaimed, “What? Am I seeing right?”

Goose flesh erupted on Lumine’s back. Her face paled, and her eyes darkened in fear.

Lumine was reeling, and Baron Thoma hastened towards her.

“Miss Lumine?”

Baron Thoma called out to her anxiously, but she didn’t answer.

 “‘Miss’ Lumine?”

The loud voice grew closer, dripping in mockery.

“What is this now? Have you changed your identity?”

The surroundings became deathly silent.

“The world is getting better isn't it? A runaway slave gets treated like a lady now? Hm?”

.

.

.

“So you stopped looking for your letter friend?”

“Yes. If they haven’t revealed themselves by now, then they never will.”

“But you wanted it badly enough to go public…”

“I don’t want to make them feel uncomfortable because of me.”

Prince Childe kept his promise. I awkwardly cut a piece of cake across the table where he was talking to a noblewoman. From time to time he looked at me, and I just smiled and nodded, hoping it wouldn’t seem odd.

‘He’s a good man…’

Scaramouche would have cut off Prince Childe if he said anything strange, but the prince said nary a word about Lumine at all.

The conversation went from Prince Childe’s letters to Grand Duke Dainsleif’s Kingdom, his magic, and how it worked in war. The grand duke offered only a few words, and did not speak about magic though he had graduated from a magical academy. He was equally silent on other topics, but my attention turned towards the door when it opened and someone came in. It was the captain of the guard.

‘What’s going on?’

Our eyes met, and he bowed towards me. Scaramouche still hadn’t noticed him, as his eyes were on Prince Childe.

“Your Majesty the Emperor.”

The moment Scaramouche turned his head, the knight delivered his message.

“You need to come to the grand hall.”

His tone sounded serious. There were only twenty people in the room, so everyone could hear what he said. All the guests’ eyes and attention were on him.

“Why is that?”

The captain seemed reluctant to answer in present company, but Scaramouche picked up on it and went outside with the knight.

‘What’s going on?’

I considered following them, but decided against it. If I was needed, then the knight would have spoken to me as well, and I wouldn’t be required if it had to do with Lumine or anything like that.

‘I don’t need to leave.’

I made up my mind and turned towards the guests again. When the time came, I left the Red Rose room and went to the grand banquet hall. I had to check on the other guests as well, and when the sun went down I had to inspect the fireworks.

‘I also made a promise to meet with Yoimiya.’

However, the atmosphere at the grand banquet hall was livelier than I expected.

‘Did something happen?’

People are usually tired out during the last day of the celebration. However, everyone would dress up for the last day, yet the energy was usually not the same as the first. From the entrance, I saw people talking and laughing, and the noise grew louder as I went in. I looked around confusedly, and Yoimiya ran over to me.

“Your Majesty, Her Majesty, did you hear?”

“Did something interesting happen? I’ve been in the Red Rose room, so I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Something very interesting happened.”

Yoimiya said in excitement, and she moved me to a suitable place for conversation. Nearby, there was a spread of crispy fried seafood, small dishes of pumpkin puddings, and milky coffee.

“You can listen while you eat. It’s an appetising story!”

“What happened?”

Yoimiya pushed a mango pudding and a fork towards me.

“Thank you, Yoimiya.”

“Do you remember Lumine?”

It was not a topic I was fond of. I grimaced slightly, but Yoimiya continued, despite knowing that I didn’t like talking about her.

“Do you remember the rumour that she was a runaway slave?”

“Yes, but are we not allowed to speak of it?”

Scaramouche had said he would punish those that did. Could they speak about this in a crowded place? I was worried, but Yoimiya shouted out before I could stop her.

“She really is an escaped slave! Viscount Lawrence arrived at the party for the first time, and he recognised Lumine!”

“Viscount Lawrence?”

“She was his slave, then she ran away!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. If the Emperor was here he would’ve stopped him. Not only that, the viscount had only been in the capital for a few hours so he didn’t know about the rumours about Lumine or the order not to talk about her. That’s why he openly said Lumine was a slave in public!”

“Ah…”

“Lumine said she was not, but everyone believed him. She looked mortified.”

Yoimiya snorted.

“All the nobles who came up to Lumine must have seen it now.”

“And where are they now?”

“When Lumine fainted, Baron Thoma carried her to her bedroom. Then the captain of the royal guard came and took Viscount Lawrence.”

So that was why the captain was looking for Scaramouche. For a moment, some foreign feeling welled up inside me. Was it…vindication? Yes. It must be. Scaramouche was furious when he suspected I spread false rumours about Lumine as a runaway slave. The resentment and sorrow I felt now turned to satisfaction.

However, there was a small corner in my heart that didn’t feel thrilled. What is this uncomfortable feeling?

“…”

I couldn’t figure it out so I decided to leave it be for now.

Now that I think about it, did Scaramouche not realized Lumine was a runaway slave when he had rescued her? Although, even if he did know, I doubt Scaramouche would hate her. After all, he had brought her here because she was pitiful and that he had a powerful desire to protect her. Whether he fell in love with her then or not, it was their first meeting. And whether Lumine was a commoner or a fugitive slave, Scaramouche would still love her. He would try to protect Lumine from mockery of others.

I didn’t know what would happen nor what is happening, but I did know that whatever it was, I did not want to get involved. 

.

.

.

As usual, it was useless trying to avoid getting entangled with Lumine. Each time, it was either her or Scaramouche that got me involved with them, it was as if they were taking turns to do that to me. However, this time, it was Scaramouche. 

As some of the foreign guests would return to their countries and the rest would stay longer at the southern palace. I returned to the western palace, leaving behind those who wanted to stay up for the drinking and revelry. I wanted to take a warm bath to relieve my fatigue of the day. My ladies-in-waiting also seemed exhausted, so instead of having them follow me, I sent them away to take their rest.

However, before I could even finish drawing the bathwater, Scaramouche’s captain of the guard came to see me. I had a sinking feeling the moment I saw him. For nearly a month, all the times Scaramouche summoned me out of the blue had been unpleasant encounters.

What on earth did he want this time? My mood dropped the more I walked through the long corridors, but I managed to control my expression. I hoped I could maintain it in front of my husband…

Finally, I entered Scaramouche’s bedroom in the eastern palace. Scaramouche was seated on a chair by the bed, and I also noticed that Lumine was on the bed with a towel on her forehead. I turned back to Scaramouche again, who had his eyes fixed on me.

“…I’ll take my leave now.”

The captain closed the door, and the atmosphere became even more oppressive. Scaramouche slowly opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you have anything to say to me?”

His voice was cold.

“Why exactly did you call me here?”

I spoke to him just as bluntly.

“Is that the only thing you can say right now?”

“That’s what I’m most curious about now.”

“You don't even blink at this situation.”

The first thought that came to mind was, ‘I must be doing a good job of controlling my facial expression,’ and the corners of my mouth must have tipped upwards as Scaramouche seemed even more offended.

“Are you happy that everyone thinks Lumine’s a runaway slave?”

“Are you going to take your anger out on me?”

 “Empress.”

“I heard about Miss Lumine at the grand hall. I know you’re upset, but don’t take it out on me.”

“Did you think I called you to vent?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why did you call me in the first place?”

He did not call me to be angry at me, yet his remarks and tone at me says a lot. He probably assumed I was happy that Lumine was discovered to be a runaway slave.

Scaramouche silently watched Lumine’s sleeping form. The ticking of the clock echoed in the room. Only after some time passed did Scaramouche speak.

“Did you really want to prove that Lumine is a fugitive slave?”

“That story again?”

“The Empress was born with a silver spoon. She had a great aristocratic family, enormous wealth, great power, a beautiful mansion, and a natural wit and beauty. But in spite of that, she still wants to be on top of everyone, including the less fortunate.”

It wasn’t a compliment in this situation. I looked at Scaramouche with narrowed eyes, and he sighed.

“Yet Lumine had nothing. She became a slave and had no memory or her parents or family. No property, no power, no home. She is just like the Empress who is smart and beautiful, she just doesn’t have opportunities for her.”

“…”

“And then she met me, and she had been trying to get these by herself. The chance to be loved, to eat a warm meal, to relax on a comfortable bed, to learn something.”

She also took my husband, but I didn’t say this because my pride was injured. I wanted to ask if he wanted me to sympathise with Lumine, but the words were stuck in my throat. So I just stared at him without a word. I couldn’t understand why he was talking so much—was he asking me to take care of Lumine's problems because she was in trouble? 

“I don’t need you to understand Lumine. But you have the smallest compassion…can you give it?”

“Compassion?”

“The compassion the Empress shows here and there—for example, towards the orphanages, elderly homes, medical centres, shrines, scholarship centres. Why can't you spare that compassion for Lumine instead!”

Scaramouche exploded at me, but then he stopped himself and collapsed back into his chair. Lumine reached out with a groan, and he quickly took her hand. I noticed that she was wearing a shirt with wide sleeves that looked similar to the shirt I had given to Scaramouche for his birthday last year. I didn't want to admit it, but seeing Lumine wearing the shirt I had bought for Scaramouche and that my husband is treating his concubine better than his wife, made me clenched my fist.

“Lumine is your concubine, not mine, so you should take care of her. I’m not looking after her because she’s not my responsibility.”

“Who said you had to look after her? Ha. Don't make me laugh! I don’t want you to take care of her, so please leave her alone! And Don't even come close to her”

“Have I ever provoked her?”

“Yesterday in front of Prince Childe, when he insulted Lumine. Out of the two of them, Prince Childe and Lumine, you should have sided with Lumine if you don’t know who’s telling the truth! You should stand by your subjects!”

“As I said, I knew the truth, and sided with Prince Childe accordingly.”

“So you are saying Lumine lied?”

“It is you who believe in her innocence, not me. And everyone knew she lied so why bother defending her, Your Majesty?”

“Well, that was yesterday. How about today? Why were you trying to undermine her today?”

“You know I never spoke to Miss Lumine today.”

“You didn't. You didn't talk to Lumine herself, but you called Viscount Lawrence from behind her back.”

The air seemed to tense when he made the accusation. I knew it wasn't true, but he made it sound like it. I glared at Scaramouche.

“What are you trying to imply?”

“You wanted to prove that Lumine is a runaway slave, and so you brought Viscount Lawrence.”

“…I invited the viscount because of Miss Lumine?”

What kind of ridiculous assumption was this? I was dumbfounded as Scaramouche let out an exhale.

“Ever since I said that Lumine wasn’t an escaped slave, didn’t you want to prove me otherwise? Were you so offended by everyone loving her?”

“You’re speaking nonsense.”

I forced my voice to sound calm, but I felt ready to burst. Scaramouche stood straight up from his chair, his eyes flashing threateningly.

“Who knows the guest invitations better than the Empress? You must have been working hard. You even invited Viscount Lawrence.”

“Yes, I know the invitations very well because it is my job. However, I invited him weeks before Lumine even came to the palace.”

“He’s not an important guest, so why did you invite him to the celebrations?”

“As I said before…I’m not interested in every single thing concerning Miss Lumine. And you were confident that she was not a runaway slave. Under these circumstances, why would I not send an invitation to Viscount Lawrence? Adding on to that, how was I supposed to find out she was his slave?”

It was true, I didn’t even know that she was his slave. The only connection I knew was that Scaramouche had found her on the hunting grounds near Lawrence’s estate. Since then, I had never heard mention of it, and if Lumine was commoner, then Lawrence’s attendance was irrelevant. Yet somehow, Scaramouche thought I calculated Lumine was Lawrence’s slave? Me? I was dumbfounded. Does he think I'm not busy at all to find out about useless things?

“If you have any consideration—”

“You should take care of her yourself. You can’t expect me to look after her, even if I didn’t know she was Lawrence’s slave.”

“…You’re so heartless.  A woman who has been living in poverty her whole life now wants to stand straight, and you don’t want to see it? You don’t wish to be tarnished? The Empress is such a horrible woman.”

"Maybe this Empress is sick and tired of you blaming her for every bad thing that happens to Lumine."