The Dread of Damned

True Ruler



"So, the man who's taken an interest in me—what do you wish to know?" Yelena asked, her tone laced with a hint of challenge, testing me.

"Well," I replied smoothly, leaning back, "since we've been discussing essence, do you know which organ of a male nocturnal releases the purest essence?" My tone was suggestive, making her eyebrow arch in mild surprise.

"That's quite a shift in topic," she commented with a raised eyebrow. "You could risk breaking the moment." Her gaze fell slightly as she added, "And yes, I know all about it."

"Not at all," I said, a slow grin forming. "I think it's the perfect continuation—considering your expertise in essence." I shifted slightly, widening my legs to give her a view of the outline beneath my silk trousers, the subtle movement deliberate.

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering before she met my eyes again. "Then, in keeping with the theme," she mused, her voice softening with intrigue, "how many women have tasted that essence?"

"Two or three," I admitted, leaning forward slightly, my eyes locking with hers. "Though I'm inclined to increase that number soon." My intent was clear in my gaze, the air between us thickening.

"Does that mean you've shared it in its purest form... or through other means?" she asked, her words hinting about penetration.

"Only through other methods," I replied, my voice growing huskier. "I was taught after my initial awakening that indulging too much, such that taking the final step before the true awakening isn't harmful, but it's not nearly as rewarding as doing it after one awakens."

"True," she agreed, her tone becoming more instructive again, though still intimate. "After the awakening, the essence you share becomes much more potent, and you can draw from others at the peak of its purity. The first time is the strongest... especially if your partner retains their purity and innocence, the built-up desire refines the essence." Her explanation, though clinical, made the memory of Elara flash briefly in my mind.

"I thought we were getting to know each other," I chuckled, shifting the mood back. "Not another lesson on essence."

Yelena's lips curved ever so slightly. "Well, as you said, I do teach essence—and you did choose an intriguing topic."

"Does that mean I get a reward?" I asked, my fingers brushing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, lingering at her earlobe, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. Her body trembled just enough to betray her composure.

She composed herself quickly, though her eyes glinted with a mix of intrigue and control. "That depends on the result of your awakening... whether you'll be a king or a disappointment."

"Does that mean you only reward those destined for kingship?" I inquired, my voice teasing but probing.

"Not typically," she responded, her fingers casually grazing my thigh. Her touch was deliberate, her gaze rising to meet mine again. "But I could make exceptions... for special cases."

"Will you be teaching me some practical lessons after my awakening, then?" I asked, leaning closer, my lips just inches from hers.

She smiled faintly, the first true crack in her stern demeanor. "I might just free up some time for you."

"It would be a delight," I murmured, making the intensity in my eyes just enough to support the moment.

Yelena stood, turning her back to me as she walked toward the door, her heels clicking softly on the stone floor. "Best of luck with your awakening... smooth prince," she said over her shoulder, her cool tone betraying a hint of warmth, or perhaps, anticipation.

"Thank you for your well wishes, Miss Stern Yelena," I replied, my voice playful but there was no smile on my lips now, my eyes cold, glinting with purpose as I watched her leave.

she couldn't see me or the glint in my eyes, the faintest blush creeping across her cheeks as she exited, her composure momentarily slipping.

I also got up and left after a moment.

"Did he also fail to meet your expectations?" a calm voice echoed through the air as Vasen's figure highlighted himself in the room seemingly appearing form no where.

A composed voice responded, filled with wisdom and age, "No... he's doing well."

Vasen's eyes narrowed as he looked toward the place where I had just left. "But I thought you wanted the king to be ruthless, twisted, unwavering in his decisions."

The ageless figure of the Head materialized beside Vasen, his voice filled with quiet authority. "A True ruler isn't defined by cruelty or kindness alone. Either extreme leads to ruin and chaos. A true king must assess the moment, understand the needs of his people, and adapt accordingly. He must give freedom—or at least the illusion of it—before tightening the leash."

Vasen studied him for a moment. "And you think he has that balance?"

The Head's gaze darkened, watching the door I had passed through. "He's more twisted than you realize. He didn't force himself upon her—he gave her the illusion of choice, of freedom. But when the leash tightens, she won't even realise it's happened... until it's too late."

Vasen nodded in understanding as the Head's figure dissolved into the air once again, silver light outlining itself where he stood before darkness took its place again.

"Lets see then" Vasen whispered before vanishing himself, leaving the room once again bathed in silence.


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