VBNWDW - Chapter 73
Chapter 73
It was only when the boar-bristle brush landed on its body that the Black Dragon realized something was amiss.
It flicked its tail blankly, sending up layers of spray. Its four claws were still paddling under the water, its gilded eyes dazed, possessing a strange, clumsy cuteness.
This was completely different from what it had imagined. Although the boar-bristle brush felt wonderful, it still wanted to practice the new tricks it had learned.
The little Black Dragon rolled over in dissatisfaction, floating with its four claws in the air. Just as it was about to express its displeasure, Metis grabbed its hind leg and pulled it right back.
The boar-bristle brush descended again, carrying the sweet osmanthus fragrance that dragons loved most, scrubbing down along its scales.
The little Black Dragon couldn't help but narrow its eyes, its claws instinctively splaying open as it revealed a satisfied expression.
No dragon could refuse such a pleasure; it was almost comparable to sleeping on a mountain of gold coins.
The water rippled, and the scent of osmanthus spread, mingling with the acrid smell of sulfur and softening it.
The Black Dragon began to grow drowsy again. Dragons were creatures that required a great deal of sleep. They didn't need to cultivate; sleep alone could make them stronger. It also allowed them to easily endure the long, tedious years, lest they be eroded by a million years of time and etched with an indelible mark of loneliness.
Metis looked down at the little Black Dragon. Even if she increased the pressure now, she couldn't stop the dragon's eyelids from slowly closing.
She suddenly spoke, asking, "Lord Yueqing, have you ever met the first queen of Roy Kingdom?"
The Black Dragon was a little dazed and answered purely on instinct, "No."
Metis pressed her lips together, but she didn't have the courage to ask any more questions.
Ever since the third king passed away, no one in the royal family had actively asked this question. After all, compared to a dragon, a human's lifespan was pitifully short. Unless one could master the rules, possess a divine spark, and attain eternal life, no race could escape the shackles of death.
The little Black Dragon, pulled by drowsiness, didn't notice the heavy turmoil of its contractor.
Ever since her first loss of control, Metis had been unable to avoid thinking about this problem. Even if she became a Magister, she would at most have a lifespan of a few hundred years—an amount of time the Black Dragon could easily sleep through.
Humans were indeed too insignificant.
Metis let out an unconscious sigh, and the pressure from her hands lightened considerably, losing its earlier meticulousness.
As the one enjoying the treatment, the Black Dragon naturally sensed that something was wrong. It lifted one eyelid and peeked at her.
To prevent a certain dragon from getting ideas, Metis hadn't completely undressed, leaving on a single, thin white chemise. Soaked through, it became semi-transparent, clinging tightly to her graceful curves and outlining them in detail.
Her golden hair danced in the water, her pale gray-blue eyes were downcast, and her thick lashes curled slightly, obscuring most of her inquisitive gaze.
This left the little Black Dragon unsure. Everything had been fine just a moment ago, so how had things suddenly become like this?
The Black Dragon pushed the brush away with both claws, its gilded eyes wide and round as it asked, "Metis, what's wrong with you?"
The other woman didn't want to answer. If it were something she could easily say, she wouldn't have been struggling with it until now. She could only shake her head and say evasively, "It's nothing."
The Black Dragon tilted its head, swiped a claw through the water to propel itself forward, and asked again, "Are you unhappy?"
Metis's reply was swift: "No."
The dragon stared at her for a moment. The space around it warped, and the silver-haired, dark-skinned beauty appeared in her arms once more, sitting sideways on Metis's lap and hooking an arm around the queen's neck.
"Metis, I don't like hearing lies," she began.
The distance between them was now extremely close. Yueqing pressed her against the stone wall, their warm breaths mingling as long, silver hair fell into the water, tangling with the ends of golden strands.
"I'm sorry, I…"
"And I don't like hearing 'I'm sorry,' either."
Metis apologized instinctively, only to be cut off by the dragon.
Her Majesty the Queen opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Yueqing spoke again. "Why don't you kiss me?"
"Ah?" Metis froze, not understanding how the topic had shifted to this.
But the person in her arms had a casual expression, as if she didn't find it abrupt at all. Seeing no reply, she repeated, "You've never initiated a kiss with me."
If anyone else had said this, it would have sounded either pitifully aggrieved or flirtatiously frivolous. But coming from Yueqing, it carried a casual laziness, as natural as holding out a hand for a butterfly to land on.
Her eyelids trembled slightly. The shimmering water made her eyes appear all the more bewitching, and within them, Metis's own features were reflected.
Metis didn't know how to answer. The memories were tucked away in the farthest corner of her mind, and she couldn't recall any trace of having taken the initiative.
Dragons were not a patient species. Asking twice was her limit; she much preferred to use actions to seek results.
Cool knuckles brushed over the round bone at the nape of her neck. The temperature, which might have been overlooked before, felt exceptionally clear after being soaked in the scalding hot spring water.
Yueqing leaned in closer. Her deep, stunning features, paired with skin a shade darker than wheat, combined to form an aggressive kind of beauty. It brought to mind a blazing bonfire, the sound of ancient songs in one's ears—sacred and passionate, with the jingling of a dancer's ankle bells.
And the goddess they sang of was right here in Metis's arms, using a tantalizing distance to deliberately seduce her.
A droplet of water slid down her curves, falling into an unseen ravine. Her cascading hair half-concealed the view, making it difficult to see clearly, but it was enough to make Metis turn her head, lower her eyes, and call out in a trembling voice, "Lord Yueqing."
"Hm?" The lazy tone, steamed by the hot water, transformed into an even more alluring sensation.
A tail, having appeared from nowhere, slid across her waist.
Metis's back tensed, pressing tightly against the cold stone wall.
Soft lips brushed across her cheek. Though they maintained a millimeter of distance, a tingling numbness had already spread.
Strands of hair slid over her shoulder, their graceful curves pressing together. Metis could even feel the slick sensation on her leg as Yueqing playfully moved.
"Lord Yueqing…" Metis's breath hitched, her voice tinged with a plea.
Yueqing lifted her head and smiled lightly at her. It was as if a spring breeze lingered at the corners of her eyes, dyeing them with a thin layer of crimson.
This was a tug-of-war without any visible tension. The rope was easily pulled to the other side, and Metis could only watch as the line in her palm grew shorter and shorter, leaving her standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering precariously.
The person in her arms was in no hurry at all, even swinging her legs. Her calf, stirring the water, brushed against the back of Metis's leg—whether it was intentional or not was anyone's guess.
Metis pressed her lips together, but just as she was about to speak, she was interrupted.
"Metis, I want to eat a grape," Yueqing said, gesturing with her eyes toward the fruit platter nearby.
Perhaps that day's dinner had stirred the consciences of the various lords, as the palace's expenses had inexplicably increased. For instance, the fresh grapes by the hot spring—Metis hadn't asked for them, but someone had taken the initiative to place them by the pool.
Metis wasn't sure what she was feeling—was it relief, or sudden irritation, or perhaps both? She frowned slightly, not moving to get them immediately as she usually would.
Yueqing didn't make a fuss. She released her hold on Metis, intending to get them herself.
The distance between them widened slightly. The weight on Metis's lap lightened, but the frustration in her heart grew heavier.
A grape was pinched between slender fingers, still dotted with residual water droplets. The dragon didn't ask if Metis wanted one, simply biting into it herself. The thin skin split, revealing the crystalline flesh inside.
Her slightly narrowed eyes showed an expression of pleasure. One couldn't help but wonder just how sweet that grape must be to make her so satisfied.
—Snap.
Metis heard a string break. She paid it no mind, reached out to wrap an arm around that slender waist, and pulled her forcefully into her embrace. Then she tilted her head up and leaned in, taking the initiative.
It was, indeed, incredibly sweet.
The grape juice dripped, and the cool flesh split, giving the person soaking in the hot spring an exquisite sensation.
Metis had been curious before. When the maids chatted idly, they would always repeatedly mention things like taking a hot bath and eating a couple of pieces of pickled radish to relieve their fatigue, exaggeratingly claiming it was a divine pleasure that even the gods couldn't refuse.
Metis had once found it strange and had secretly laughed at them for a long time.
Now, soaking in the pool herself and biting into a sweet grape, she finally understood that there was no exaggeration.
The wind rustled the layers of white curtains. The clamor outside the city walls continued unabated.
Children laughed and ran through the crowds, ignoring the nagging of their parents behind them. Intimate couples walked hand in hand, stopping at every stall.
The water's surface rippled as golden and silver hair intertwined.
Metis was like a child who had never tasted sweet fruit, desperately plundering the remaining sweetness.
She suddenly understood why the dragon was always so eager, so frantic to occupy every inch.
Just as her mind wandered, the dragon easily reversed their positions.
Another grape disappeared from the fruit platter. As if they had found a special kind of fun, the two of them ate one after another.
The fruit juice dripped into the water, spreading a sweet scent.
The rest of her memory became a blur. All that remained were the waves stirred up again and again, and reddened knees.
Yueqing was especially greedy at times like this, coaxing and promising that this would be the last time, only to quickly go back on her word with a wicked, triumphant smile.
She didn't know how much time had passed before she was carried back to her room.
Perhaps due to extreme exhaustion, Metis slept very soundly that night, dreaming of a childhood she hadn't thought of in a long time.
Those memories, sealed deep within and thought to be forgotten, all came rushing back, clawing at her and dragging her into a nightmare.
Yueqing was not the first dragon she had known. In her ignorant, tender years, her father had also signed a contract with a dragon. It was a dragon covered in red scales. Whether because it was male or two thousand years old, it was more robust than Yueqing. When it lay sleeping, it looked like a great mountain with no visible peak.
Although it also slept all day and had a lazy personality, whenever her father helped it wash its scales, it was willing to open its eyes and exchange a few words. When it was in a particularly good mood, it would even do him a small favor.
Because of this, her father possessed a little more power than the previous kings. He successfully married the commoner queen whom the noble families of the Council had vehemently opposed. The number of people washing the dragon's scales went from one to two, and then one more was added.
Metis still remembered a sunny afternoon when her father lifted her over his head so she could use a wet towel to wash a higher spot. Her mother, sleeves rolled up, stood smiling beside them, and the red dragon let out a huffing sound from its nose.
It was a very happy childhood.
Metis would climb on the red dragon's back to gaze at the distant lands beyond the city walls, and she would hide under its wings to watch the rain.
And dragons, when dealing with cubs, always had a bit more patience and tolerance. Even when Metis drew a turtle on its scales, it would only huff a few times and then use its claw to push away the king, who was angrily about to spank her.
So when her parents died unexpectedly, she had subconsciously sought the red dragon's protection.
But no matter how she cried and screamed, she couldn't stop a dragon that wanted to leave.
The princess had lost her king and queen, and she no longer had a dragon's protection.
She was locked in the palace by the ambitious members of the Council. The empty palace was like an inescapable prison, and everyone inside was an executioner who watched her with cold eyes, using their indifference as a blade for a slow, slicing death, carving Metis into the shape they desired.
Don't be naive and innocent; be sensible and obedient, preferably listening only to the Council and the Temple.
Don't be too smart; be disciplined like a believer who only knows how to worship the God of Light.
You must not awaken your magical talent; that would be too dangerous.
Only after they were certain she was a harmless pet with its teeth pulled did they dare to drape her in a magnificent robe, place a crown on her head, and say: You may now inherit the throne and go see your subjects.
The greatest pain was not being beaten, but slowly sinking into an inescapable swamp. Metis struggled, even as she was being dragged down.
Sweat dripped down, soaking the pillowcase.
On the other side of the bed, the dragon rolled over. Beneath her was a small mountain of gems and gold coins, which clattered as she moved.
Night swept over the entire city. Darkness filled the room, creeping up the side of the bed and enveloping Metis within it.
Until someone pulled her up, drenched in sweat, and called out repeatedly, "Metis, wake up."
"Metis."
"Metis…"
She woke with a start, clutching tightly to Yueqing's collar. Her pale gray-blue eyes were filled with an unconcealable fear and anxiety as she asked in a hoarse voice, "Will you leave me?"
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