[author]NSFW[/author]
By the time Janus finally returned, dusk was already creeping in, painting the sky in tired shades of blue and gold. The heavy, suffocating heat of summer had clung to the house all day, only now giving way to a shy breeze drifting in from the sea. It was so stifling that we ended up herding the twins and Teresa down into the cool shadows of the wine cellar, seeking relief among the old barrels and stone walls. For a moment, I found myself wondering if I had made a mistake choosing healing magic over water or air. Maybe then I could have conjured a little comfort for us, instead of just enduring the heat and waiting for night to fall.
Other than that, my day drifted by in a haze of small joys and little disasters. I spent most of it curled up with the twins, letting their soft babbling fill the quiet, or chasing after Teresa before she could tumble down the stairs. There were a few stink bombs to deal with, but nothing I couldn't handle. Parenting, it turned out, felt almost gentle when you had help and enough coin to smooth the rough edges. In my old life, the thought of even one child had seemed impossible—too much responsibility, too little time, even though I always longed for it. Now, surrounded by all this, I almost believed I could handle five, maybe even eight, and still find room in my heart. I remembered how my mother used to sigh and say she wished she'd been a little more reckless, that she should have had four instead of just three.
Even the awkwardness I initially felt started to fade, although slowly, as the kids and I got more used to each other. If only this godforsaken heat wasn't there the day could have been perfect.
Janus, somehow, managed to keep his spirits high despite the heat. When Emma finally took over and we were left alone in our bedroom, the air still thick and sticky, I couldn't help but ask how things had gone.
“Did the meeting go well?”
Janus glanced over at me, and I realized I was wearing little more than a thin, damp dress, the heat making modesty impossible. My nipples showed through the damp fabric, and he tried to hide a smirk as he peeled off his own sweat-soaked clothes, tossing them aside until he stood bare in the fading light.
“I got to say what I wanted, and the King sided with us, so you could say it went as best as it could.”
I tried not to let his little show get to me, but it was hard not to feel the heat rising in more ways than one. I slipped out of my dress too, letting my skin breathe at last, and tried to focus on the conversation instead of the way his eyes lingered.
“But?”
Janus just blinked at me, either confused or too distracted by the beads of sweat sliding down my neck and disappearing between my breasts. I’d gotten pretty good at noticing when a man’s attention wandered, and right now, I was sure it wasn’t confusion that had him so quiet.
“Huh?”
Finally, he stopped his mountain gazing, so I asked again,
“Come on, where is the but?”
“No buts really. It's just Duke Winslow and Duke Solaris. But they are always like that, so I got used to it.”
“They are like what?" Come on, you can tell me. I have to meet them eventually, so I'd rather be prepared.”
Janus let out a long and audible sigh before saying, “Fine, you won't like it though.”
For the next hour, Janus shared every insult and bit of scheming the Yuwen family had suffered over the years. We lay side by side, naked and still, letting the rare cool night air drift in through the open window. Even the thought of moving, let alone anything more, felt impossible in the heavy heat.
From Janus, I learned that Duke Winslow has always been overly insecure about his status as a Duke, since his house had only received the title a mere decade ago, earning the ire of many noble houses. He used his economic position and riches to bully “lesser” noble houses especially us since we rank right beneath him. He redirected trade routes and spread bad rumors. He also seemed a bit paranoid, constantly worried he might lose the newly gained title, so he was easily shut up by the king.
Duke Solaris, on the other hand, was even more arrogant than the king himself. His dislike for House Yuwen seemed more like a matter of pride than anything personal—at least for now.
Listening to Janus, I felt anger simmering beneath my skin. I made a silent promise to keep my distance from those men and their circles, though I knew their reach was wide.
“But at least the King was on your side. He sounds like a good ruler.”
“Ehhhhm I… I'm not so sure. He is a bit… special.”
“In what way?”
“You know this is his first and only son, right?”
I nodded; after all, how could I forget the reason I was experiencing this boiling hell right now?
“But it's not his only child. In total, King Henry has nineteen children, with eighteen of them being daughters.”
“What Nineteen!?”
Raising children as a noble had its comforts, and I loved my own fiercely, but nineteen? Even I had to draw the line somewhere. That was far too many, no matter how much help you had.
"Yup. His first wife, the queen, gave him four daughters and now his first son. His second wife gave him three daughters, and his third and fourth wives gave him one each. The rest of his daughters are all illegitimate from either prostitutes, Courtesans, mistresses, or the occasional maid. Some rumors say he has even more children, and there have been cases where the King took other nobles' wives as his mistresses. All in a pursuit to have a male heir.”
“Ew. I take back what I said.”
The king sounded utterly revolting, but Janus brought up something I hadn’t even thought about.
“When he had forced other noble wives to be his mistress, they always had lots of sons from their own marriage, but with him, they always only had daughters. But now, after his son is born, you shouldn't be worried. Even when he tries, you can just point at all his other children and his son.”
Janus looked calm and unbothered on the outside, clearly meaning not to worry me, but beneath the surface, I could see that, for the king to live a long and healthy life, he had better not even so much as look at me.
The only eyes I wanted on me were Janus’s, and I caught him sneaking another look at my chest, which had only grown fuller since I started nursing. The heat between us was electric—each glance, each brush of skin sparking something reckless and raw. When I finally gave in to the hunger in his gaze, he surged over me, his hands greedy and desperate, fingers tracing the slick, salty path of sweat down my body. I arched into him as his mouth found my breast, suckling gently at first, then more urgently, my breath catching as pleasure rolled through me. His tongue flicked over my nipple, teasing at the taste of milk, and I gasped, clutching at his hair. Our bodies tangled, sliding and pressing together, the world reduced to damp sheets and fevered touches—his mouth everywhere, his hands kneading, coaxing. Steam rose from our skin, the night air thick with our scent. As his member pierced me relentlessly, at the last moment, Janus pulled away just like last time, leaving his mark across my heaving chest as I lay there, breathless and spent. Drops of yellowish breastmilk trickled from its tips, merging with the beige bedsheets, my thighs still trembling with aftershocks.