Elena’s wrist lay gently ensnared within Kennard’s large, powerful hand, rendering her incapable of movement. The contrast between their appearances was stark. Elena’s wrist appeared fragile, her translucent skin allowing her veins to peek through, while Kennard boasted a sun-kissed complexion with prominent veins tracing the back of his hand.
With delicate precision, Kennard’s calloused fingertips danced along the path of Elena’s exposed veins, leaving her trembling with an unexpected surge of warmth. The sensation was electrifying, sending a tingling ripple from her fingertips to her toes and causing her hair to stand on end. Gradually, Kennard’s touch ascended, moving from her wrist towards her elbow, eventually stopping just shy of her shoulder.
“Your Highness, why…” Elena began, attempting to free her arm from his gentle grasp, but Kennard’s grip remained unwavering. He applied no pressure, choosing instead to study her with his other hand.
In an instant, Elena’s breath caught in her throat, startled beyond words. Kennard’s hand encircled her neck, gently lifting her chin with his other hand. Elena’s head tilted backward, and her lips parted involuntarily. She tried to regain control, but Kennard’s fingers, once holding her chin, now lightly brushed her lower lip.
This sensation diverged from the embarrassment she’d felt earlier in the day when she’d opened her mouth in front of Serin. As Kennard peered into her mouth, Elena found herself at a loss, unsure of where to fix her gaze. Her body seemed to cringe with embarrassment and bewilderment, as if wishing to vanish into the earth beneath her.
Elena’s cheeks flushed like a delicate petal as she gazed at Kennard’s face, now so close that it seemed their breath might meld. His hazel eyes held an unusual depth, resembling the tranquil sea before a storm.
“Your Highness?”
Kennard’s eyes, previously studying her mouth, lifted to meet her call. Their gazes intertwined in the air, and Kennard emitted an undeniable magnetism that seemed to envelop the surrounding atmosphere, casting a palpable weight upon it.
By this moment, Cura, who had been standing alongside Elena, was equally taken aback, her hand reaching for her forehead as she slumped in disbelief.
Elena, too, found herself in a dizzying haze, courtesy of Kennard’s potent pheromones, her vision clouded as if veiled by mist.
Desperately, she turned her gaze to Kennard, silently pleading for him to release his grip. Yet her regret was swift, as his hazel eyes blazed like a fire in the midst of a frigid forest, their intensity threatening to consume her.
Struggling to maintain her fading consciousness, Elena snapped her lips shut. The instant she did, her rigid body twitched in surprise.
With a rough, yet oddly gentle touch, Kennard’s hand traced down Elena’s chin and neck.
“Ah, Your Highness,” Elena’s voice quivered, her neck still ensnared in Kennard’s grasp, rendering it near impossible for her to turn her head.
Unrelenting, Kennard continued his exploration, descending past her collarbone and progressing toward her shoulder. As his touch descended, one side of Elena’s robe slipped down, revealing the delicate straps of her undergarment and the curve of her slender shoulders.
Though aware of the alluring silhouette that now lay exposed beneath the thin fabric of her undergarment, Elena found herself paralyzed by a crippling fear, unable to summon the courage to cover herself with her robe.
Her heart raced, threatening to burst from her chest, and her breath caught. Her entire body remained as unyielding as stone, and the world before her eyes seemed to blur into oblivion, to the point where she nearly forgot to breathe.
“Your Highness, please, that’s enough…” Elena pleaded with Kennard, the words escaping her lips taking all the strength she could muster. But she knew that if she allowed Kennard’s touch to persist, her body might not endure it much longer.
Yet, it was more than that. She was gripped by an inexplicable, paralyzing fear, its tendrils coiling around her like a tumultuous whirlwind.
Kennard maintained his unyielding gaze on Elena, his hand ensnaring her shoulders and neck. His eyes, as frigid as Terra Demorte’s unforgiving winter and as dark as the night sky, bore into her.
“This is maddening. I can’t believe you’re really here after all,” a voice muttered. Startled by the unexpected intrusion of a new voice, Elena turned toward the door. Serin, his hands clutching his waist, glared at Kennard and Elena with palpable anger.
“Why is it that so many guests are coming to my room today?” Elena wondered, her thoughts filled with bewilderment.
In that moment, the once-thick pheromones that had saturated the air began to wane.
“I distinctly said there was nothing going on,” Serin declared. “Did you really have to confirm it in person like this?”
