The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 89: More than Acquaintances

Two pages of poems had been finished in restless unease. The quill still twitched in his hand as he scribbled the lines in his head down on the parchment.

A knock on the door made him freeze in his tracks. The candle beside him wavered as he set down the quill.

"Come in." He called out.

A guard opened the door, ushering the person in.

He didn’t need to look up to know exactly who it was.

And for once, she was on time. Had she been anticipating the evening as much as he had been, or was she punctual because duty demanded it?

"Your Grace."

He looked up. Then he wished he hadn’t.

Yeren didn’t recognise the dress she was wearing. Had he sent such a beautiful dress without realising it? Or had someone gifted it to her? The latter thought made him shift in his seat.

The only man he knew that was wealthy and bold enough to offer her such a gift was Lord Bronan’s son.

As if the necklace was not enough, he scoffed inwardly.

His eyes trailed from her hair which was pinned up in a style he wasn’t familiar with, to her exposed neck, to the blasted necklace that begged to be ripped off, to the creamy top of her cleavage...

Since when did she start dressing so... enticingly?

"Forgive me for asking, but do you intend to go somewhere else after seeing to my needs?"

Her throat worked as he said the word ’needs’. What needs did she think he was referring to? He was talking about wine, of course. Except...

"No, Your Grace. I came as you asked."

He leaned back in his chair, a smug smile replacing his slightly sour expression.

Her gaze kept darting to the window that had been replaced, colouring each time she noticed he was watching her.

"I intended to replace it." She said at last, her shoulders tense.

Did she? With what coin?

He could smell her bathing oils and fragrances from where she stood. Yeren couldn’t help wondering how she’d smell up close.

"You seem to enjoy standing there like a statue to be admitted, Miss Stenly. Would you like me to pour you some wine instead?"

Claire shook her head and rushed towards the table. When she realized the pitcher was on the decanter in the other end, she did a full swirl and rushed towards it, blushing the shade of a ripe cherry.

Yeren couldn’t help but smile.

Slowly, he folded the parchments containing the poems he had been writing and stuffed them into his drawer.

"Pour yourself a goblet too."

Her hands shook as she tipped the pitcher over the rim of his goblet. "I’d rather not drink any wine, Your Grace."

"Why not?" He knew her reason perfectly, but nothing seemed better than hearing it from the horse’s mouth.

"I can’t handle my liquor very well." She muttered.

Why was she being so guarded but dressing so alluringly? Wasn’t that very unfair to him?

And gods, the way she smelled...

"I can teach you."

The wine she was pouring spilled on the table as the goblet was over-filled.

"Pardon me." She reached for a cloth to wipe the mess and tipped the pitcher in her haste.

He watched his expensive wine spill across the table, dripping to the floor like a small, red waterfall.

Claire picked the pitcher up when it was too late.

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace."

Why was she so clumsy?

He had seen enough. Yeren rose from his seat and went towards her.

"Pout yourself some wine. You need it more than I do."

She shook her head. "Wine makes me... loose."

"Which is exactly what you need." He picked up his goblet and handed it to her.

She took it from him hesitantly, pausing before she pressed the rim to her lips.

The way the candle light caught on her hair... and skin made his blood rush.

Slowly, he reached out and took the dusting cloth from her slender fingers. He felt warmth course through his arm as their fingers brushed.

She wasn’t wearing gloves, he realized.

She took a small sip at first, sighing at the sweet taste of the wine, and began gulping the rest down swiftly.

Yeren watched her through the corner of his eyes as he bent to wipe the surface of the table.

He only had to do what he could - the maids would have it cleaned properly the next day.

She watched him quietly, holding the empty goblet tightly.

"Can I have more?"

He dropped the cloth and fixed the heavy weight of his gaze on her.

"No. I shouldn’t have even allowed you to drink so much."

She tilted her head. Her shoulders had lost their tense look, softening as did her whole body.

"Why do you drink so much wine, Your Grace."

Yeren stood to his full height and looked down at her.

"When we’re alone, I want you to call me Yeren. I don’t tolerate formality from women I’ve stolen several kisses from."

She had the grace to blush.

"I don’t want to initiate any more intimate familiarity with you, Your Grace." The way her lips curved as she said the entitlement made it clear that she was trying to test him. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"The intimacy has already been established, like it or not, Miss Stenly." He stressed out her name as well, his eyes glinting with an unspoken challenge.

A full smile curved her lips.

"Intimacy? I’m not too naive to not know what that means. It means-"

"That we’re well beyond just being male and female acquaintances."

He heard her breath catch softly.

"So what are we?"

Her smile was blinding him to all else.

The bed was just a few metres away from where they stood.

"Two people who want each other."

She closed the space between them.

Yeren stiffened slightly.

Was it the wine or... did she do that of her own will?

"What makes you think I want you... Yeren?"

He wasn’t letting her escape this time.

"This."

He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers.