The Demon Lord's Bride (BL)
Chapter 80: A punishment for an annoying Demon Lord is to make him flustered

Chapter 80: A punishment for an annoying Demon Lord is to make him flustered

"If it’s something that God gave you to hold...is it something like a sacred mission?"

Natha pondered for a while, and then turned to look at me—it was the same face he made before he spoke that censored name. I was getting ready for another censorship because of that, but he just leaned into the armrest and answered with a rather forlorn smile.

"The King called it ’destiny’ rather than a mission," he said finally.

It was quite weird. I thought, as the direct subordinate of the King, which was the Demon God’s apostle, he would be thrilled about getting this mission or destiny or whatever. Well, he didn’t exactly look displeased, but he did seem to be a bit uncomfortable.

Like the time I asked him about the stab wound for the first time.

Driven by instinct, my hands reached out and stroked his cheeks. As he looked at me with slightly widened eyes, I asked him about it. "Why? Did you not like carrying that destiny?"

He paused for a few seconds, seemingly stunned as I continued to caress his skin with my thumb. And then he smiled, the silver eyes curled softly again. "It’s not that I don’t like it," he said, taking my stroking hands into his own. "I just dislike the way it seemed like I had no choice in the matter. And even if it brought me great joy, I have no idea whether I’m doing it because I like it, or if there’s a higher power telling me I should like it."

Ah...so it was kind of like me, wasn’t it? The way I had no idea whether I liked Natha because I was once liking someone who looked like him, or because I really fell for this demon.

Honestly, I was still thinking about that sometimes, even though I was pretty sure the feeling I had right now was built over time along with the memories I spent with Natha.

But I couldn’t deny that triggering spark that was caused by my feeling for the young doctor in the past. Without that feeling...it might take longer for me to put down my guard.

Although...Natha being a hot-ass demon that was downright my type surely would make me fall for him either way.

So...

"Does it matter in the end, if it brings you great joy anyway?" I told him carefully.

Yeah, I also wondered why I was brought here—what kind of power put my soul inside Valmeier’s dying body? The author? One of the Gods? For what objective was I lived my second life here instead of...oh, I don’t know, reincarnated into a bug on Earth or something.

Had I had any choice at all in the matter, would I choose to be reborn? Would I choose to come to this world? Perhaps not. And if I ended up dying again, for the second time, I might just curse the one who brought me here till my second dying breath.

But I learned to feel joy by living here, learned to feel others’ affection—not just from Natha, but from Zia and Angwi and the other servants. So I didn’t care anymore about who brought me here or for what purpose.

"If the higher power designed you to reach happiness with this mission, wouldn’t that mean you are loved? It wanted you to be happy after all..."

I had no idea if it made any sense, or if that was a bad solace. I just said what I felt about my own situation, after all. Perhaps it was also a form of self-consolation for me.

"Well, umm...that’s what I feel anyway, so...uhh..."

Haa...what was I even talking about?

"I lost..." Natha suddenly muttered, and then the cold forehead was pressed against my chest, as the Demon Lord chuckled with a shaking shoulder.

"Is this a competition?" I murmured against his horn, and he flinched for a bit before laughing again.

He pulled me by my waist and nuzzled my chest. It was rare for him to act like this—like a spoiled man—so I instinctively moved my hand to caress the dark blue hair.

And then he spoke in a quiet voice. "What if the one who could hear the name of that seed was supposed to be my one true love?"

It was like a drop of cold ice into my system. That single sentence, and the word destiny that he said before...it crashed into my insecurity like a goddamn hammer into a floodgate. My heart, which wasn’t too affected before, suddenly felt like it was filled with thorns.

"Just kidding," Natha said with a chuckle, lifting his face to look at me and freezing when he saw my rigid face. "No, I’m just kidding. There’s no mention of it when I was given—wait!"

I pushed him off me by the shoulder, and while it was usually impossible, I could do it easily then. "It’s not funny!" I grumbled and climbed off the couch to stomp my way into the bed.

Of course, he followed me, after getting stunned for a few seconds. But it was enough for me to dive beneath the comforter and pulled the blanket over me. "Sweetheart? I’m sorry, don’t sulk, mm?"

Sulk? He thought I was just sulking? Whatever—I pulled the blanket around me even more. It was the first time I felt truly ticked off by him, and I didn’t care if I acted spoiled or childish; it didn’t change the fact that I got hurt by what he said.

His one true love? What would he bother with all this bullshit then? Why didn’t he just mention the egg or seed or whatever to every goddamn person he ever met then, like looking for Cinderella or whatever?

Through the blanket, I felt his cold arm over my folded body, and his lips over my ears, calling me sweetly. "Come on, sweetheart, I’m really, really sorry, okay?"

Telling me that bullshit after making me fall for him and everything, acting like he’d skin me alive if I fell for anyone but him...

"Go away!" I was usually pretty scared of offending him, but right now I felt too hurt to care about it. "I don’t want to see you right now!"

The arm around me held me tighter while caressing me at the same time, another hand sneaked to stroke my hair from the top of the blanket. His nice, deep, and sweet voice was coaxing me ceaselessly.

"Don’t say that, sweetheart," he actually sounded sad when he said it, and I was almost swayed because of that. Almost.

He pulled the blanket down to reveal my face, but I turned to press it against the pillow, away from him. "Look, I’m sorry...forgive me, yeah? It’s careless of me to say things like that—no, it’s wrong of me," I felt his cold lips over my temple, my jaw, my ears...anywhere he could reach in this position.

When I didn’t give him any reaction, he suddenly pulled me into his embrace, still cocooned in a blanket and all. Arms circled and caressed me, cold chest against my warm back, while he continued to whisper at me sweetly.

Only, there was a slight tremble and fluster inside his usually flawless baritone. "What should I do so you’ll forgive me? I’ll do anything, yeah?"

Ugh—what should I do when he smothered me like this? It felt nice to be enveloped by his coldness, and the way his voice became softer and quieter while he kept murmuring apologies...

There was no way I could stay mad at him.

"...anything?"

Once he heard my response, he gently moved my face so it was visible, and pressed his lips on my cheek. "Anything," he said firmly.

I looked at him and could see the silver eyes staring at me seriously. Shifting my body slightly so I could face him better, I asked him quietly. "Even if I want to touch your horns?"

He blinked and paused for a few seconds, again. Honestly, I was just asking it out of pettiness. He seemed to be uncomfortable every time my fingers slightly brushed them, and would either flinch or froze because of it. I still had no idea why, and I felt reluctant to ask about it before.

So I was taking advantage of the time when I didn’t have my usual apprehension about acting childish and spoiled.

It actually didn’t matter if he said no, but then I would have a justification to chase for an explanation in that case.

"You want to..." from this proximity, I could hear the sound of gulping, could even trace the movement of his throat. He looked strangely...flustered.

I just waited, and watched as he got up while looking a bit tranced. "Okay," he finally said, and got down from the bed. I raised my body, a little bit confused—and intrigued—at his reaction, and sat on the edge of the bed as he crouched down between my legs.

His head was perfectly in front of my chest, and I got a nice vision of the protruding pair of black horns that looked like a crafted piece of art. All this while, he kept his gaze to the front rather than looking at my face, so I couldn’t see his expression clearly.

But I could see his tense hands beside my thighs, perching on the bedsheet as if ready to grip them. Filled with boiling curiosity, I raised my hand to touch the protrusions.

They were hard and sturdy, felt cold and sleek like metal. Just like his skin, the horns were inscribed with alpha-seed patterns, and made me feel like I was touching exquisite art carvings.

It felt nice, and my eager fingers moved to rub the length, before holding them firmly and stroking them and—

"Mmh..."

And Natha suddenly moaned.