Orders From The Vellore
She pulled the blanket tight around her naked body, Nova’s green eyes flared with shock and rage. Her breathing was still ragged; her skin flushed with something more than the heat of the moment. She was a fighter, a battle-hardened commander respected on the battlefield—but at this moment, snugged into a messy knot of sheets and sex, she was vulnerable in a manner that infuriated her.
"Tch. This woman had to arrive now, of all times," Nova said softly, her voice husky and resentful.
Leon groaned, levering himself upright, still completely naked and acutely erect. He rubbed the back of his head, his golden eyes snapping toward Natasha—who, naturally, looked more than too amused.
She was biting her lip, attempting to hide her smile, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.
"What’s so funny?" Nova snapped, her voice sharp as a blade.
"Nothing, nothing," Natasha replied, though amusement curled her lips. "I just never imagined I’d see the fearless Lady Nova like... this."
Leon stood up to one knee, indifferent to his nudity. His broad shoulders and chiseled chest shone with perspiration, every breath causing the defined muscles of his abs to move. And nestled between his thighs, his penis lay semi-erect—an unselfconscious, lingering reminder of the sex they’d just had.
Natasha’s eyes did not flinch. Her lips curled into mischief as her dark eyes roamed over his body.
"Forgive me, my Lord," she breathed. "Honestly, I didn’t mean to disturb." She leaned her head, gaze drowsily tracing the line of his chest before finally settling below his waist. "But... now that I’ve had a peek, I have to say—you’re quite handsome."
Leon blinked. "Natasha—"
"And your dick," she continued, the smile growing on her face, "nine inches of royal splendor. Honestly, awe-inspiring."
Nova glared at her, horror gradually giving way to homicide.
Did this bitch just—?!
Leon’s lips twitched, torn between groaning and laughing. With a heavy sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don’t know if I should scold you or cover myself first."
"You should definitely cover yourself," Natasha said smoothly, "before I lose my patience and climb into your lap."
A vein throbbed on Nova’s temple.
Huddled close in the blanket, she shook a shaking, angry finger at the sofa. "You bitch—! Don’t tempt my husband! Want me to cut my blade across your throat?!
Natasha flung up her hands in feigned surrender, but she didn’t stand up. "Lady Nova, please. As you, I am owned by our lord. What is wrong with you?" Her smile became sly. "And as for your sword... well, only the slave seal stands between me and defending myself. You know that." Nova clenched her jaw. Natasha was correct—and that just made it worse.
As for cultivation, Natasha was more powerful. The magical seal that tied her obedience to Leon was the only thing preventing her from turning this into an all-out battle. And the way she spoke. smug, shameless, self-assured. It enraged Nova’s blood.
Leon labored a breath, slowly standing up from the ground with a sigh of defeat.
"Both of you—enough."
He stood upright, unfazed by being naked, and made his way to his abandoned clothing. "Natasha," he grumbled without glancing at her, "don’t get on my lap."
"Of course, my lord," she replied, her voice honey-sweet and utterly lacking in sincerity.
Leon grabbed up his black-and-gold duke’s cloak and shrugged it on with quick ease, cinching it around his waist loosely. His temper was already in a bad mood, and the fact that Natasha had come now—of all moments—to tell him something, meant only one thing.
News of some importance.
He moved to face her, golden eyes stern and intent.
Having finished dressing, Leon went back to the side of the bed. The black silk robe hung loosely on his body, still creased from the previous passion that hung in the warm air. Nova, on the other hand, changed into her white linen top—soft, loose, and barely reaching her thighs. The material hung lightly against her skin in spots, reminding her of his caress. She sat beside him in quiet, the heat of his body still near, legs crossed, breathing slowing.
In front of the room stood Natasha.
She cocked her head, lips twisted into that same old smirk. "Tsk. I have to say, seeing you all dressed up, my lord... is a bit of a letdown."
Leon’s face did not change. His golden eyes met hers with serene indifference. "Why are you here? And when did you arrive?"
Leaning against the wall with a casual air, arms crossed over her chest, Natasha maintained that sly grin. "I arrived as soon as you departed from the court. Followed discreetly. Wanted a quiet word."
Her gaze darted briefly to Nova before going back to Leon.
"But when I saw you go into her bedroom..." she left a breathy pause, voice full of innuendo, "I tailed from the rooftop, window. And when I realized what was happening, well—" she shrugged indolently, "I waited. Watched. Quietly. Didn’t wish to interfere with your... love scene."
Nova released a sharp snort, eyes tightening. "Pervert."
Natasha only grinned wider. "No, no. Just a good girl who respects her lord’s sacred time with you."
Leon exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples with two fingers. He didn’t bother questioning how Natasha had hidden her presence so well. If anyone in his circle could shadow him unnoticed, it was her. Still, her games were starting to wear on his nerves.
"Enough," he said firmly. "Just tell me why you’re here."
The sparkle of mischief faded from Natasha’s eyes. Her voice took on a new tone, losing its playfulness as she advanced.
"I had a message from Vellore," she started, her voice firm. "A direct command."
Leon’s eyes clouded. "What sort of command?"
Her gaze locked with his. "To kill the Moonstone King. As soon as war breaks out on the western front."
The room dropped into a tense silence. Nova was sitting bolt upright, her spine rigid. Leon’s jaw locked.
Of course. Vellore would attack out of the shadows, as always.
"It makes sense," Leon grumbled, whisper-voiced. "Slit the head of the kingdom, put the people into panic and disarray."
Natasha nodded. "But there’s more. The King of Vellore... he’s coming in person. He’ll personally command the invasion."
"What?!" Both Leon and Nova spoke in unison, their voices slicing across the room like a knife.
"Yes," Natasha assured, her tone smooth but tense. "He’s going all in. Vellore wants this war wrapped up quickly—with no lingering siege, no negotiation. Only blood and fire."
Leon paced off to one side of the big room, his robe rustling softly. Nova observed him quietly, her green eyes solemn in the seriousness of the moment.
"More," Natasha said, moving in now, her teasing tone entirely erased. She started to relate every last detail: Vellore’s troop deployments, the generals commanding each wing, the spies infiltrated in Moonstone’s court, even rumors of traitors near the throne.
The mood of the room changed—no longer heavy with pleasure and heat, but with fear and urgency. Darkness crept in as the final golden glow of the day disappeared beyond the tall windows. The purple shades of dusk colored the sky while inside, survival and strategy were the order of the day.
Natasha’s voice was smooth, clipped, and every word a knife in its own right. She wasn’t the flirt with quick wit anymore—she was the tool Leon had shaped her into.
By the time she was done, the room was silent once more. The night had properly descended.
She straightened and drew back, her tone softening with an uncharacteristic hint of respect. "That’s all I know at the moment, my lord. If anything else comes to mind, I’ll come back."
Leon nodded slowly, gaze on her as she turned to leave. The sound of her boots on marble echoed distantly in the silence.
But as her fingers touched the edge of the doorframe, something snapped into Leon’s mind.
She stopped mid-step, slowly turning around. Their eyes met across the shadowy room.
Leon was straight now, no longer lounging on the bed. The air between them grew heavy again—but this time, not with passion... but with something piercing.