VBNWDW - Chapter 92
Chapter 92
Clouds of mist tugged at the sunlight, dyeing the endlessly flowing river a dazzling color. In the distance, cattle and sheep ran freely. With the creak of a door, the city of Anthelia finally awoke.
Sparrows landed on the balcony, chirping incessantly. A breeze swept through the window that had been left open all night, pulling the sunlight into the room.
The two people sunk in the hollow of the bed slept in an embrace. At the foot of the bed was a small nest holding the dragon egg, which had been kicked into the corner by the Dragon Lord.
As a beam of sunlight fell upon her, Yueqing frowned and burrowed deeper into Metis's arms.
Metis unconsciously held her tighter, patting her head to soothe her.
But it had little effect. Yueqing kept her eyes closed and let out a dissatisfied hum. Her scattered silver hair half-concealed her face, obscuring her expression, but one could see her thin lips press together, as if she were nursing something.
The response was a soft hiss from Metis. It seemed the person in her arms had touched something she shouldn't have. The hand at the back of Yueqing's head couldn't help but press down, an incorrect move made unconsciously.
Even so, Yueqing didn't open her eyes. Perhaps because dragons were good at holding their breath, she didn't resist, allowing herself to be buried in a stretch of porcelain white.
Then, the familiar sound of swallowing began, along with a faint, wet noise, like a toddler deliberately smacking its lips while drinking sweet water to show how much it was savoring the taste.
Although they had tried their best last night, this was the most troublesome time. There had been nothing left, yet this morning, there was plenty again.
Like a perfectly ripe peach, its juices flowed with the gentlest bite.
The cumbersome quilt was pulled away. Yueqing drank eagerly, almost brutishly.
She was a dragon, after all, impossible to ever fully sate. If she had to rely on food to fill her stomach, half the creatures on the Chryse Continent would have gone extinct.
The hand at the back of her head tightened, slender fingers digging into her hair and tugging gently, as if taming a wild horse. The consequence of not using force was that the horse seized the initiative, not only refusing to stop but growing ever more demanding.
Metis arched her back, trying to pull away, but the dragon held her fast, even pressing the top of her foot against the sole of Metis's. The hand around her waist gave a tug, and the small gap that had just formed between them closed once more.
Vicious and domineering, she perfectly fit the human stereotype of a dragon.
And she had no intention of changing.
But dragons were not reckless fools. She knew she couldn't go too far, or her prey would be frightened away, and she would be left with nothing.
After quenching her thirst a little, she eased up slightly. Playfully, she scraped her sharp canines over the flushed area, then enclosed it again before Metis could feel a sting, enveloping her in soft, wet warmth.
Metis's brow was still furrowed, but a trace of mist had gathered at the corners of her eyes. Her hand slid down and tugged on Yueqing's earlobe, as if that could possibly threaten her.
But rebellion was written in the dragon's very bones. Far from being threatened, she simply started anew.
The dragon egg, kicked to the foot of the bed, huddled in its thick little nest in the corner. The sleeping dragon cub had no idea that the food meant for it had been stolen by another, more vicious dragon.
The quilt rustled, nearly sliding off the edge of the bed. Fortunately, Yueqing noticed and quickly pulled it back.
Metis was simply too tired. She was the one who needed rest the most during this time, but her duties as queen and the provocations of an enemy nation forced her to remain on the throne, discussing and planning, preparing for the army at the front, considering every detail to be their most reliable support.
So she had been exhausted these past few days, and after last night's exertions, she refused to open her eyes, even as Yueqing continued her antics, drifting in and out of a light sleep.
Outside, the sky was bright, and warm sunlight enveloped the entire city.
The calls of vendors echoed through the streets and alleys. Someone hurried past, chewing on a piece of bread, an anxious look on their face.
The moss in the corner of the wall was, as always, unhurried. A small white flower swayed its head, as if watching something.
No matter the creature, once fed and watered, they were bound to get mischievous. Without wiping the milky white liquid from the corner of her mouth, Yueqing began to slide downward, her head disappearing under the thin blanket, which now tented up into a large mound.
The sunlight outside was glaring. Metis couldn't help but turn her head and bury her face in the pillow to escape the annoying light. But before she could fall asleep, her breath hitched for a moment.
Beside her, a corner of a crumpled dress peeked out, discarded there for some reason and now cold to the touch after a long night.
"Don't…" Her sleepy voice was hoarse, but it carried a soft, gentle tone that tickled the heart.
Metis reached a hand under the blanket, intending to pull the troublemaker out, but she only found a furry head.
The dragon was too far down.
Hot, moist breath traveled from her undulating stomach to her flat abdomen, leaving faint red marks, as if wanting to pour the just-tasted liquid onto her, to make her smell the same.
Metis's palm pressed down on her head, trying to push her away, but it only made her go lower.
The corner of the blanket could no longer hide her. A smooth, well-defined calf emerged, the gold chain on her ankle tangled. Unconsciously, she kicked the cub's little nest again.
Metis clutched the corner of the pillow, her expression unseen, her face completely buried.
Although certain things were not possible, there were always other ways. As long as it wasn't too much, it was allowed.
Outside, the guards changed shifts. After confirming they were their own people, the handover went smoothly.
The morning dew gradually evaporated into the air. The green leaves grew more vibrant. A small insect that had crawled up early was about to take a bite when it was snatched away by a bird that had long been waiting nearby.
Farther away, Mo Wen was muttering something to the Bald Eagle.
Though she tried to suppress her look of disgust, the little knight still held up the fake feathers in her hand.
The Purple Cloud Eagle had a mournful look on its face, squawking about how such common feathers were unworthy of its magnificent self, but it still extended a bald wing for the knight to help glue them on.
The room grew quieter. The thin blanket was tented up, a work not of Yueqing alone. Metis had unconsciously raised her legs, clamping them around the other's head.
The wet sounds started again, much louder than before. It was hard to tell if it was intentional, but the smacking and slurping was endless, noisier than a toddler.
Metis, her face buried in the pillow, could hear everything clearly. She tried to kick the woman, but her ankle was caught and lifted higher.
The business under the covers showed no sign of stopping. Who knew where the dragon had learned such things—perhaps from the experience of last night and this morning. Gentle bites, slow grinds, and the occasional suckling drew a series of sounds from Her Majesty the Queen, which, though muffled by the fabric, still escaped in fits and starts.
The thin blanket slipped further down, revealing the slender back beneath her golden hair. Because she was arched, each pale vertebra was distinct, and her shoulder blades trembled slightly, the shallow dimples of her lower back faintly visible.
After an unknown amount of time, Metis suddenly went rigid, clutching the corner of the pillow tightly. Then came ragged breaths, as if she had just run for several kilometers and was utterly exhausted.
Her forehead, neck, and wrists were flushed in shades of red, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
The person beneath her finally emerged, only to be pulled into a tight embrace by Metis.
Yueqing was very considerate at times like this. She didn't complain, but gently rubbed Metis's back, helping her catch her breath.
But Metis suddenly grabbed her wrist and said urgently, "Again… there's more…"
"Quickly…"
Her voice was a flustered mess. Before the dragon could react, her head was pushed down to the food Her Majesty the Queen personally offered to her lips, as if rewarding her for her earlier hard work.
And so, milky white traces were added to her moist, red lips.
It was just like this at this time; some things were unavoidable. Fortunately, the dragon's appetite was not small, and she could drink one meal after another.
A servant, having prepared breakfast, came and knocked on the door. After several knocks, a voice finally responded, telling her to leave the tray outside.
The servant had no choice but to comply. As she turned away, a puzzled expression crossed her face. She felt the queen's voice sounded strange, like a forced composure.
She scratched her head, but after a few steps, she put the matter out of her mind.
In any case, with Sir Mo Wen and her seventh-tier Purple Cloud Eagle present, nothing could possibly happen to Her Majesty.
A while later, the sunlight was no longer so intense, and the temperature became comfortable, making one feel drowsy and unwilling to move.
It was the same for the two inside. The dragon was half-sprawled on Metis, her face buried in the queen's neck, the picture of lazy satisfaction after a full meal. Metis paid her no mind, her half-closed eyes still glistening with moisture, hazy, as if she hadn't yet returned to her senses.
The thin blanket, which only covered them to the waist, was about to fall off the bed again, but neither of them cared, too lazy to bother with it.
After another moment, someone finally spoke. "You kicked Wodaixina into the corner."
The queen protested in a weak voice, finally remembering the dragon egg she had worked so hard to produce and lodging a complaint with the other mother on its behalf.
Yueqing lazily lifted an eyelid, then hooked the poor dragon's nest with her foot and nudged it closer. "It didn't fall off, did it?" she said nonchalantly.
Yes, in a certain dragon's eyes, not falling off was quite good enough. And if it did fall, it wouldn't break. She could just pick it up and dust it off.
Metis was helpless. She patted her again and said, "Wodaixina will be angry."
Wodaixina was the name she and the dragon had previously chosen for the little dragon cub. It meant Little Rose.
Hearing this, Yueqing suddenly laughed and said, "Metis, I want to give Wodaixina a nickname."
"Hm?" The queen was intrigued by the topic and looked at her.
"How about Poached Egg? Isn't there a folk saying that the more common the name, the easier the child is to raise?"
Yueqing nodded to herself, looking very satisfied. "Wodaixina sounds too fragile. A poached egg gets broken and then fried—that sounds very tough."
Metis's eyelid twitched as she listened. If her legs weren't so weak, she would have kicked this person off the bed.
What did she mean, broken and then fried? What kind of mother said such things about her own daughter?
"You are not to call her that," Her Majesty the Queen refused decisively.
Yueqing readily agreed. "Alright, then how about rose-flavored Poached Egg? Doesn't that sound delicious?"
"Yueqing!"
"We can't call her Stir-fried Poached Egg, can we? She's a dragon, after all. If someone were to press her down…"
Yueqing clicked her tongue twice. "If she really likes it, I'd agree. I think we should be very open-minded mothers, not the type to get angry over such things."
The next second, Her Majesty the Queen made the most correct choice and raised a hand to cover her mouth, preventing her from saying anything else strange and outrageous.
The dragon egg beside them remained silent, unaware of the bizarre name its unreliable mother had bestowed upon it, or the fantasies she was already having about its distant future.
The sound of laughing chatter gradually faded. When afternoon arrived, the dragon who had rushed back overnight hastily departed from Anthelia once more.
Other than Her Majesty the Queen, no one knew she had ever returned.
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