The Third Prince Of Darkness

After ensuring Roxanne was satisfied with my touch and presence—considering she was now pregnant—I gently escorted her to her room. While I might not be an expert in this field and can't recall every precaution to take during pregnancy, I do remember from my previous life that sexual intercourse during pregnancy could potentially harm the baby.

Thinking about it now, I've rarely reflected on my past life since arriving in this world. I suppose it's because I had no one of importance in that life to truly hold on to. Growing up in an orphanage, I never knew my parents.

As I grew older, I became more withdrawn, likely because of the numerous traumatic experiences I endured. Still, I eventually made a few friends, though the sole reason I even sought friendships was to alleviate the boredom of my everyday life.

At an early age, my teachers noticed my potential. They often claimed I would grow into a great man someday. But I despised the idea. I hated responsibility, wasting time on meaningless endeavors, and, above all, being in the spotlight.

Now, looking back, it's ironic how the very things I despised in my past life have become sources of joy and fulfillment in this one. Perhaps the problem in my previous life wasn't me, but the life itself. There was no reason to take responsibility, nothing valuable enough to invest my time in, and no desire to stand out because I didn't value my existence.

Maybe that's why I was so drawn to books, novels, and, most importantly, history. After all, the greatest void in my heart, the deepest pain, came from not living the life I yearned for.

Though I've said it many times before and will say it again without hesitation: I am grateful to the god, power, or entity—whoever or whatever they are—that brought me into this world.

After tucking Roxanne into her bed, I quietly left her side. She drifted into sleep; her face a picture of blissful exhaustion, as I wandered the dimly lit corridors. My footsteps echoed faintly on the stone floors, but my mind was far louder—filled with the ceaseless back-and-forth of thoughts between my past and present selves.

Roxanne's pregnancy unearthed a long-buried anxiety within me: the weight of raising a child. In this life, no matter what I might lose, this child would carry on with my legacy. I would leave a mark, something I was once too afraid to even consider. Now, that very idea both fascinated and unnerved me. I already had two children, and it seemed that number would only grow.

At the end of the corridor, I pushed open a large wooden door and entered my study. The room was a chaotic shrine to my ambitions, filled with books, documents, and maps that marked my personal victories. The weak glow of the fireplace in the corner cast trembling shadows across the walls. Leaning over my desk, I examined a map. Two locations were marked prominently—one, the capital of my kingdom, and the other, the heart of my brother's territory.

When I came into this world, I swore to myself that I would never be weak. I buried the powerless child from my past life and was reborn as a ruler. But this title was no mere name; it meant carving my own path, winning battles, crushing enemies, and securing a future for my family.

Liam. I had to defeat him, not just with strength, but with cunning. My love for history had taught me that wars weren't won solely with swords, but also with pens, words, and strategies.

Of course, defeating Liam would mean bloodshed. Every move I made from now on would carry the risk of violence. I didn't live in a world of pink skies and prancing unicorns. A ruler must spill blood when necessary.

I turned my attention back to the reports on my desk. They detailed how Liam had recently held a funeral ceremony for my father, Richard. It appeared that Alpshar had intentionally sent Richard's body to Liam, acknowledging him once more. This gesture would likely restore some faith among Liam's supporters, strengthening their allegiance to him—or so it seemed to me.

It's clear I need to accelerate my efforts to sway Liam's supporters to my side. Yet, even when war comes, Liam will undoubtedly command a formidable army. Reflecting further, I realized that Liam's strongest backer, Duke Fernnard, might already suspect that some nobles had defected to my side.

If that's the case, then war may come sooner than I anticipated. I studied the map and reports again. Timing was the most crucial factor now. Liam was powerful, but I knew swords or soldiers did not solely measure that strength. True strength lay in knowledge, fear, and the ability to manipulate human nature.

I picked up a quill and began marking small notations around Liam's territories on the map. These markings represented the paths to his heart: trade routes and political ties. Before the war even began, I needed to destabilize his infrastructure and support systems. Hunger, distrust, and fear—these three were enough to bring any people to their knees.

However, every strategy carries its risks. Especially with someone as dangerous as Duke Fernnard involved. While Fernnard may seem loyal to Liam, he, too, had weaknesses. Weaknesses are the most effective weapon against enemies. I needed more information about Fernnard—his desires, fears, and hidden ambitions. Knowing this could be the key to winning this war.

Suddenly, there was a gentle knock at the door of my study. When I granted entry, Kayle stepped in.

Her presence sent a subtle ripple of tension through the room. Her golden hair gleamed like flames in the firelight, and her crimson eyes held traces of an untamed passion. After closing the door behind her, she walked in silence, each step resonating like a graceful melody against the stone floor. Yet, beneath that melody lay a barely concealed intensity.

"Ethan," she said, her voice a blend of submissiveness and deep yearning. "Forgive me for disturbing you at this hour, but... I needed to see you."

I lifted my gaze from the map and met hers. Her trembling lips and conflicted eyes spoke of an inner struggle—wanting to speak yet afraid to do so. Understanding Kayle's emotional turmoil was often like predicting the direction of an oncoming storm. Remaining calm and collected was always the best approach for her.

"What's wrong, Kayle?" I asked, keeping my tone steady and gentle.

Kayle suddenly leaped into my lap, clasping my face between her hands. "I need you... I don't know why, but tonight I feel strange. I know I should be patient, and I shouldn't disturb you while you're working, but I can't help myself."

Her touch, the warmth of her fingertips against my skin, hinted at a passion burning deep within her. Her crimson eyes pulled me into their depths like a raging sea, revealing the storm she carried inside. As she sat on my lap, her breathing grew heavier, each moment steeped in an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

"Kayle," I said, taking a deep breath. I was accustomed to her impulsive actions, but tonight felt different. There was a sharper, deeper emotional intensity. As I tried to figure out how to handle her uncontrolled desires, I fixed my eyes on her face. "You don't need to push yourself this much. Is there something you want to tell me?"

Kayle's eyes filled with tears, but she stubbornly held them back before they could fall. "Ethan... I don't know... It's just..." Her voice trembled, her lips struggling to find the words. "Sometimes, even though I'm by your side, it doesn't feel like enough. It's as if... as if I can't fully belong to you."

Her voice trailed off, but her gaze begged for an answer. Her lips parted, her breathing quickened. She leaned in closer, her breath brushing against my lips as her hands gripped my face. She whispered, "Ethan, I don't know what I should do. But I need to get closer to you... now."

Without further hesitation, she pulled me to her. Her lips crashed onto mine with the force of a hunger that seemed suppressed for years. Kayle's intensity showed the boundaries of her passion as her hands moved swiftly from my face to my neck and then to my shoulders. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Her kisses were deep, fervent, and unrestrained.

When I gently placed my hands on her waist, she pulled back slightly and looked into my eyes. Her crimson eyes now burned brighter, like a volcano erupting within the fire. "Don't push me away, Ethan," she said, her voice a perfect blend of determination and passion. "I want to belong to you completely tonight. Every part of me."

Instead of responding with words, I found her lips again. This time, I wanted to take more control, but Kayle wouldn't allow it. Her hands tangled in my hair, her lips constantly in motion. Between kisses, she murmured my name. "Ethan… Ethan…"

For a moment, she pulled back, breathless, but her eyes still burned with that same unrestrained passion. "I'm afraid I won't be enough for you," she said, her voice trembling but full of emotion. "But no matter what, I will love you with everything I have. Even if this love consumes me."

Rather than answering, I wrapped her tightly in my arms. "Kayle, whenever you think you're not enough, I'm here for you. Calm down," I said, softening my voice to soothe her. But Kayle ignored my words, drawing even closer, as if she wanted to pull me entirely into herself.
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Her hands moved from my shoulders to my chest, then slowly traced my face with her fingertips. Leaning closer to my ear, she whispered, "Tonight, I want you to belong only to me, Ethan. Only me."

Kayle's overwhelming passion had completely overtaken me. When I met her lips again, she didn't hesitate for even a moment, deepening the kiss instantly. Her fingers gripped my hair tightly, her body pressed fully against mine. She was so fervent and relentless that I wished this moment could stretch into an eternal storm.

As the flickering flames of the fireplace cast dancing shadows on the walls, Kayle's consuming passion turned this night into something unforgettable.