The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis stirred awake, a comforting weight pressing against his chest. As his eyes slowly fluttered open, he found himself staring up at the sky through the canvas of their tent. It took a moment for him to remember where he was—far away from the castle, in the middle of a journey, stranded on a cliff ledge. The memories of last night came flooding back, and his gaze dropped downwards to see Cerys sprawled atop him, her body curled up against his in a way that was completely uncharacteristic of her usually stoic demeanor.

Her entire frame, toned and strong, was draped over his chest. Her arm, which was wrapped tightly around his side, held onto him almost as if she were afraid he might vanish at any moment. Mikhailis couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. The way she was cuddling into him, her expression completely serene, was downright adorable. Her red hair, always pulled back in a neat ponytail, had loosened in the night, splaying messily around her face and over his shoulder. He brought his hand up, gently brushing a few strands of hair out of her face.

He studied her for a moment, marveling at how different she looked without the usual guarded expression. He had never seen her this vulnerable—never seen her truly relaxed. She looked so peaceful, her lips slightly parted, her breathing steady and slow. It was hard to believe this was the same woman known as the Lone Wolf.

She stirred slightly, nuzzling closer into his chest, and his heart warmed at the sight. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead, unable to resist the urge. The gesture was tender, filled with affection. He closed his eyes for a moment, simply savoring the feeling of having her so close. He knew how rare moments like this were for her—how difficult it was for her to let her guard down.

She's so cute like this.

But of course, that was the exact moment that Rodion decided to make an appearance.

<Good morning, Mikhailis. Allow me to congratulate you on yet another extramarital entanglement.>

The tone was utterly neutral, but the sarcasm was impossible to miss.

Mikhailis sighed, a slight frown forming. He glanced around, knowing Rodion's voice was only for his ears.

Great timing as always, Rodion. He thought, rolling his eyes inwardly.

Rodion continued without pause, as though unaware of Mikhailis's internal frustration.

<It is truly impressive, Mikhailis, how you continue to accrue affairs while being married to Queen Elowen. I am particularly intrigued by the fact that, despite the sheer frequency of such encounters, you have not yet sired any offspring. One would almost consider it fortunate.>

Mikhailis blinked, a deep frown forming. He hadn't thought about that.

It was odd, wasn't it?

With the number of times he had… been intimate… why had there been no children?

Even with Elowen?
Experience more tales on My Virtual Library Empire

He hadn't really questioned it before, but now that Rodion mentioned it...

Why is that, Rodion? He thought, feeling a genuine sense of concern bubbling up.

<It is highly probable, Mikhailis, that the root of this issue lies with Queen Elowen's heritage. As you are aware, Her Majesty possesses a faint lineage of dark elves. The elven races are well-known for their challenges in terms of conception, requiring specific rituals or favorable circumstances for successful procreation.>

Rodion's explanation was devoid of emotion, though there was something almost clinical about his phrasing.

Mikhailis frowned, still processing the information.

Rituals? Like what?

<Elven rituals for fertility are ancient practices, often involving specific incantations, sacred locations, and, at times, alchemical assistance to facilitate successful conception. It is not uncommon for elven couples to require decades before conceiving even a single offspring. Moreover, Your Highness, there is also the possibility that your own lineage complicates the matter further. You too possess traces of dark elven blood, albeit faint. This might exacerbate the difficulties you and Her Majesty face.>

Mikhailis's frown deepened, worry beginning to take root.

So you're saying there might be something wrong with me too?

<It is a possibility, Mikhailis. If you desire, I could perform a complete diagnostic scan upon our return to the castle, to determine whether there are any other factors contributing to this issue. I assure you, the process is entirely non-invasive.>

Rodion's tone was professional, but there was an unmistakable hint of dry humor.

Mikhailis sighed.

Thanks, Rodion. You're really putting me at ease here.

<You are most welcome, Mikhailis. My intention, of course, is solely to serve.>

Mikhailis shook his head, focusing on the moment rather than the conversation. He shifted his gaze back to Cerys, who still rested peacefully against him. Rodion seemed to take that as his cue to move on.

<On a more pressing note, Mikhailis, I have an update regarding the deployment of the chimera ant soldiers. As per your previous directives, a contingent of 100 chimera ants is stationed around your current perimeter, ensuring security and safety. Furthermore, I have taken the liberty of providing you with some materials and ingredients, should you require them. Additionally, a trap I set using the chimera ants has managed to capture a Vyrechick—a domesticated magical beast resembling a large chicken, notable for its vibrant plumage. I have concluded that it may serve well as your breakfast.>

Mikhailis chuckled softly.

A Vyrechick, huh? How convenient. It does sound like a great start to the day. He paused, then added, By the way, doesn't the name sound awfully close to Vyrelda's name?

<That observation had not escaped me. I assure you it was not an intentional allusion.>

Rodion responded, sounding almost amused despite the monotone delivery.

<Additionally, Mikhailis, I must report on the condition of Lady Lira and the others in Vyrelda's group. Your personal maid, whom you seem particularly… attached to, was understandably distraught by your fall. She was seen shedding tears. In fact, both the merchant, Estella, and her bodyguard, Rhea, were visibly distressed. To alleviate their concerns, I took the initiative of utilizing the flare that was packed in your supplies. I instructed the chimera ants to shoot it high into the sky at an optimal time, ensuring visibility to Lady Lira and Vyrelda. This action was prompted by my observation of both Lady Lira and Vyrelda gazing toward your current location.>

Mikhailis felt his lips twitch upwards in a smile, the thought of Lira worrying about him warming his heart. Rodion's sarcasm aside, it seemed like things were under control. Thank you for taking care of that, Rodion. You really saved the day.

<Merely fulfilling my programmed duty, Your Highness. Shall I continue to monitor both your group and Lady Vyrelda's contingent?>

Yes, please. Keep me updated.

Rodion's presence faded, leaving Mikhailis alone in the tent with Cerys. Just as he settled back down, enjoying the warmth of Cerys's body pressed against his, he felt her begin to stir.

"Mmh… Your Highness…?" Her voice was soft, her eyes still half-closed as she looked up at him.

Mikhailis smiled, his gaze softening at the sight of her disheveled red hair and sleepy expression.

"Yes, it's me. Good morning, Cerys."

She blinked up at him, then smiled—a warm, genuine smile that touched Mikhailis deeply. He realized, in that moment, that he had never seen her smile like that before. It was unguarded, vulnerable. Beautiful.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep.

She nuzzled closer, closing her eyes again, seemingly content to stay where she was.

Mikhailis watched her, a soft chuckle escaping him.

She's gotten bold, hasn't she? He thought, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against her lips.

The kiss was tender at first, soft and careful. He could feel her responding, her lips parting slightly as she kissed him back. Slowly, the kiss began to deepen, and Mikhailis felt a surge of emotion flow through him. He moved his lips against hers, savoring the softness, the warmth, and the taste of her. The way their lips fit together felt perfect, natural, like they were made for each other.

Cerys's lips parted wider, inviting him in, and he took the opportunity, letting his tongue slip into her mouth. He felt her gasp softly, but she responded, her tongue meeting his in a hesitant yet eager dance. Their tongues moved together, tentatively at first, brushing against each other as they explored the new sensations. Mikhailis could taste her, sweet and intoxicating, and he felt her shiver in his arms as the kiss grew bolder.

Cerys's hand came up, resting against his cheek as she tilted her head, allowing the kiss to grow more passionate. Their tongues intertwined, sliding and caressing, deepening the connection they shared. They kissed each other with a sense of urgency, yet also with care, each movement filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of what they couldn't put into words. Mikhailis felt her fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn't bear the thought of letting go.

Their breathing grew heavier as they lost themselves in the kiss, the world around them fading away until there was only the two of them. Mikhailis could feel her body pressing against his, her warmth seeping into him, grounding him. He could hear the soft, muffled sounds she made as their mouths moved together, and it made his heart swell with affection.

The kiss wasn't just about desire—it was about trust, about vulnerability. It was about the walls they were both tearing down, piece by piece. They kissed as if trying to convey everything they felt for each other, all the fears, the hopes, the unspoken emotions. Mikhailis could feel her melting into him, her body relaxing, her barriers crumbling. He held her close, his hands caressing her back, feeling the tension leave her as she surrendered herself to the moment.

Eventually, they broke apart, their foreheads resting together as they both caught their breath. Cerys looked at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, her eyes filled with a mixture of emotions—fear, hope, and something else, something deeper.

"We should… probably stop," she said, her voice shaky, though there was a smile playing at her lips.

"Before things… go too far again. I don't think I'd be able to stop myself."

Eventually, they broke apart, their foreheads resting together as they both caught their breath. Cerys looked at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

Mikhailis smiled, brushing a thumb against her cheek.

"You're right," he said softly, though he couldn't deny the desire still simmering inside him. He watched as she slowly sat up, raising her body off him. She stretched, her muscles flexing as she moved, and Mikhailis couldn't help but admire her.

He followed her lead, getting up and stretching as well. Together, they began to prepare to leave the camp, gathering their belongings and ensuring everything was in order. As they stepped outside, Cerys's eyes immediately landed on the trap Rodion had set, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Is that… a Vyrechick?" She asked, her voice filled with excitement. She turned to Mikhailis, her eyes sparkling.

"We caught a Vyrechick?"

Mikhailis chuckled, amused by her reaction.

"Looks like it," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I guess we're off to a great start."

He moved over to inspect the trap, nodding in satisfaction.

"Let's begin with a good breakfast," he said, glancing back at Cerys.

"What do you say?"

Cerys smiled, her earlier shyness completely gone.

"I'd say that sounds perfect."