“Oh…” Julian muttered, his smirk widening as he paused. “The King stayed here, huh? Not bad.”
He turned around, his eyes sweeping the hall again before landing on Shayla. “It’s luxurious, sure, but I don’t see anyone… interesting.”
Shayla and Vigg exchanged confused glances, her composed facade faltering for a moment. She quickly masked her confusion and stepped forward with a calm smile.
“Your Grace, I don’t understand,” she said, tilting her head, though the spark in her eyes suggested she knew what he meant.
Julian approached one of the golden chairs and sat on it, one leg crossing over the other. “You know what I mean, Lady Shayla,” he said, leaning back, his eyes locking onto hers.
“What can a man never tire of…?”
He paused, drawing out the silence.
“Women,” he finally said. “I don’t see anyone here.” His smirk widened, a playful challenge as he swept his gaze over the massive but empty hall, then settled on Shayla.
Shayla exhaled in relief, her pounding heart finally calming down. She had thought he was dissatisfied with the room’s grandeur or some other slight, but it was merely a matter of women. She smirked inwardly. So even the great Archduke is not above lust. Seriously, all men do is think with their dicks and it seems he’s no different.
“Oh, Your Grace,” she said, her voice slightly seductive as she stepped closer. “Do not worry. Women can be easily managed. Our castle hosts women of every age and every type. You just say how you want it, and they will be present before you.”
“Hmm, nice,” Julian murmured. His gaze then shifted to Vigg, who was glaring at him as if he were waiting for the perfect time to lunge at him.
The moment Julian made eye contact, Vigg quickly turned away in fear, his hands trembling at his sides.
“Vigg, right?” Julian said, his voice cutting, startling the younger man.
Vigg froze in a moment of panic, unable to mutter any response. His eyes darted to the floor, fear and dread mixing with the initial want of revenge.
Shayla nudged Vigg gently, her smile proud as she stepped in to smooth the tension. “Yes, Your Grace, he is Vigg, my son.”
“He is a handsome young man, sure to be a great leader,” Julian nodded, making the young man flinch even further.
She bowed slightly, her smile widening. “Thank you, Your Grace. Your words mean a lot to him and to me.”
Julian gave a single nod, his eyes flicking back to Vigg, who still avoided his gaze. “So, Vigg,” Julian said, his tone teasing, almost taunting. “Tell me, what kind of woman do you like?”
Vigg’s face flushed, his eyes snapping up to meet Julian’s for a fleeting moment before dropping again.
“I… I don’t—” he stammered, the question catching him off guard. His mind raced with the images of Aryl and Shayla, their maternal body a subject of sin to his mind.
Shayla chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that masked the unease in her eyes. “Oh, Your Grace, you are embarrassing him,” she said, her voice warm and teasing, though her smile tightened slightly as she turned to her son. “Go on, dear, answer His Grace.”
Inside, her heart raced, worry filling her chest. She had heard Vigg’s raw confessions before—his possessive obsession about them—and now she feared he might expose that dark intensity in front of the Archduke.
Vigg glanced at his mother, her urging gaze steady but laced with unease, then at Julian. He swallowed hard.
“I… I like older women, Your Grace,” he muttered, his voice low and hesitant. His hands trembled at his sides, the memory of Shayla’s touch in their family’s twisted rituals burning in his chest.
Julian laughed, leaning forward with a nod of approval. “Yes, yes, I understand you, Vigg,” he said, his eyes darting between Vigg and Shayla. “Older women are my favorites as well.”
Shayla’s face lit up, a sigh of relief flashing in her eyes as she saw how masterfully Vigg navigated the Archduke’s question. She seized the moment to steer the conversation, her smile regaining its usual charm as she leaned slightly toward Julian.
“So, Your Grace, what kind of women should I call for you?”
But Julian was not done yet; his eyes glinted with mischief as he savored the chance to tease and torment further.
“Hmm…” he said thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the armrest. His gaze roamed the hall before settling on Shayla. “Someone like you, Lady Shayla,” he said, his voice low and velvet-smooth, catching everyone off guard.
His smirk shifted to a grin, a predatory edge to it as he glanced at Vigg, noting the younger man’s barely restrained fury. Yes, tremble more… he thought, relishing the chaos he had ignited.
Shayla’s breath caught in her throat, her composure faltering as a faint gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes widened for a fleeting moment before she masked her shock with a tight smile. She tilted her head, forcing a light chuckle, though her cheeks flushed faintly.
“Your Grace, you flatter me,” she said, trying to regain control.
Vigg bit his lips, his eyes blazing as he fought to calm himself. Julian’s words echoed over and over in his mind, eating him from the inside. His breathing quickened, his body trembling with the urge to lash out, but Shayla’s earlier warnings and Julian’s overwhelming presence held him back.
This fucker’s toying with me, Vigg thought, his eyes narrowing as Julian’s grin burned into him. The next moment, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. I can’t afford to lose my composure and fall for his trap.
Julian’s grin widened, but he turned his attention back to Shayla. “So, tell me, Lady Shayla, do you have anyone like yourself?” he asked playfully.
Shayla shifted uncomfortably, struggling to find a reply. “Umm… I will see to it, Your Grace,” she said, her flush turning deep as she forced a smile.
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