I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 116

Isis moved slowly and deliberately, the first time she’d been this cautious since they began their intimacy. Yuraine, growing impatient, glanced back at him with a resentful glare. Her heart fluttered at the sight of his damp, yearning eyes, but she dared not move. Her body was pregnant, and her mind was clouded with worries about the potential harm it might cause. Despite countless reassurances that it was safe, doubt lingered was it truly okay to do this?

Yet, the urge was impossible to resist entirely. He longed to bury himself inside her, to lose himself in her warmth, to move passionately and draw out her moans. But restraining himself felt like the only responsible choice. With great effort, Isis withdrew his fingers from Yuraine’s trembling body.

“Mmmm…!” she whimpered softly.

He groaned as a long stream of juices flowed out of him. Yuraine’s gaze followed the motion, her eyes tracing his movements. When Isis spread his fingers apart, deliberately displaying the slick wetness, Yuraine whimpered softly and squeezed her eyes shut. How much longer was she going to be this shy? Even if her embarrassment was endearing, it never ceased to amuse him.

Isis leaned in closer, moving deliberately slowly. One hand gripped the backrest of the chair, while his other arm wrapped securely around Yuraine’s waist, pulling her closer. He pressed the column of his sex against her parted folds, rubbing it against her. The friction was soft yet tantalizingly slippery as both of their arousals mingled, coating them in a shared heat.

“Yuraine,” he murmured, his voice low.

“Isis… ah, ahh!” she gasped as he pressed the tip of his glans firmly against her slick entrance. The smooth, firm head teased her opening, dipping in and out shallowly. Her entrance clenched and fluttered as if impatient, trying to draw him in completely.

Barely keeping control, Isis exhaled and slowly began to push inside Yuraine, his movements deliberate and careful.

The dense, tight warmth of her walls enveloped him. Both Isis and Yuraine exhaled together, a shared breath of relief and desire. As her body relaxed slightly with her exhalation, he pressed in a little deeper, only to pause again when he felt her body tense. Bit by bit, he eased himself through the narrow entrance, his patience warring with the overwhelming heat surrounding him.

By the time she was all the way to the roots, Yuraine’s toes were fully lifted and she was practically dangling from Isis’s arms. The underside of her lower belly pressed against his arm, and the pressure was felt by Isis herself. The painful stinging sensation was easily replaced by pleasure.

“Aaaaah……, hmmm, Your Highness…….”

With a struggle, one of Yuraine’s shoes came off. Her delicate toes grazed the floor several times. Isis lifted her hands from the backrest and cupped her pelvis between her hands, pulling his penis out to the glans sheath and slowly pushing it back in. Yuraine shuddered.

“Don’t, don’t do that, I’d rather……, fast, hard…….”

“No.”

“Mmmm……! Hm, ahh, no……!”

Yuraine continued to struggle, almost clinging to Isis, each thrust tightening her insides and irritating her clit. Eventually, Isis withdrew her clit a little, then picked Yuraine up and flipped her over to change positions. Yuraine was now lying with her head on the back of the armchair, her legs spread wide. Isis then grabbed her by the sides and draped them over my shoulders, placing one knee on the chair as she inserted her penis deeply again.

“Aaah……! “

Yuraine’s body, voice, and insides shuddered together as he looked up at Isis, his dark purple eyes watery with moisture. Her blonde hair was disheveled and draped across her face. Indeed, Yuraine was breathtakingly beautiful. His gentle, innocent eyes and golden, thick lashes fluttered and flickered, and a sigh escaped his parted red lips. Isis bent down and kissed him. Even his breath was meltingly sweet.

The slow, deepening penetration reached its end. As he kissed him, he reached forward and squeezed Yuraine’s, and Yuraine stirred again. He didn’t like being touched in this way, front and back together. It felt like too much. Isis moved her lower body without parting her lips, her hand moving up and down gently at the same time.

“Mmmm……, yeah, laugh……! Mmmm……!”

Yuraine moaned through clenched teeth, her body straining, her legs shaking and slipping. Isis squeezed Yuraine’s leg, slamming her body against his with one hard slap, and parted her lips.

The muffled moan burst out loudly. Yuraine sobbed and writhed helplessly, her sobs growing louder as she moved faster and faster. A pure white liquid splashed in front of her, soaking the robes they both still wore. Burying himself deeply, Isis lowered his head, whispering softly, ‘I love you. Until he buried himself inside Yuraine.

The bed was soft, and the lover’s embrace was warm. After making love once in the armchair and once in the bed, they delayed cleaning up, choosing instead to hold each other tightly for a while.

Isis gently stroked Yuraine’s back and whispered,

“It will be winter when the child is born.”

“I hope they’re born on a snowy day.”

“They will be.”

Snowfall was common in the winters of Iser, but there was no guarantee it would come on that particular day. Yet Isis said, “It will be,” with complete certainty, as if it were an unshakable truth. With those words, all of Yuraine’s thoughts of what if it doesn’t snow that day? dissolved. Feeling lighter, Yuraine smiled softly.

“Do you think they’ll be born a Lamia?”

“Perhaps.”

Isis nodded, then added,

“By the time they grow up, the Grand Duchy will be a place where no one, Lamia or otherwise, is treated lightly.”

At that, Yuraine lifted her head, looked at Isis, and smiled.

“Yes, it will be that way.”

The red-furred cat padded softly across the grass, its steps unusually cautious. It glanced around as if wary of being pursued. After ensuring no one was nearby, it quickened its pace, but just then, the grass rustled, and a small blonde child leapt out. The cat’s tail twitched in surprise.

“I found you, Sir Lairn!”

The child grinned from ear to ear and scooped the cat up with both hands. The cat struggled briefly but soon gave in, stretching its limbs and flicking its tail lazily.

“I didn’t think I’d be caught, but here I am. Does this mean I’m your master now, Your Highness?”

“Yes, Sir Lairn is the master! Sir Leon, Sir Leon, where are you? I’ve got Sir Lairn!”

“It feels like I’m being arrested when you say it like that.”

“Arrested! Hahaha!”

The word “arrested” seemed to amuse the child, who burst into laughter. At the same time, the bushes on the other side rustled, and another child, identical to the first but with black hair, stepped out slowly.

“Miore, you shouldn’t grab Sir Leon like that.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Leon said solemnly.

At the elder child’s serious admonishment, the younger one pouted but eventually let go. Freed from the small hands gripping his sides, Leon, now in the form of a cat, slipped into a proper carrying position in the child’s arms. He sighed in relief and bowed his head reverently.

“What’s the big deal? Sir Leon isn’t even a real cat.”

“Is there such a thing as a real or fake cat? When he’s in a cat’s body, he’s a cat!”

“Is that so? Sir Leon, what do you think?”

“That is correct.”

“Then I’m sorry!”

This was how the Grand Duchess Miore typically handled things—quick to apologize but just as quick to forget. The twins, Grand Duchess Miore and Grand Duke Lairn, were the four-year-old, remarkably clever children born after the Grand Duchess endured a difficult labor.

“All right, Sir Leon, now it’s your turn to find us.”

“Understood.”

“Count to 100!”

“Yes, yes.”

In his cat form, Leon obediently covered his eyes with his paws. The twins giggled as they ran off, their laughter and footsteps fading into the distance. After counting to 100, Leon uncovered his eyes, glanced around, and called out loudly.

“Are you ready? I’m coming to find you!”

The surroundings were quiet. Of course, it was a game of hide-and-seek, but…

“Your Highnesses…?”

It was natural for them to be silent, but something about it felt unusually quiet.

Meanwhile…

“Pwah!”

Two small faces broke through the surface of the water at the same time. The twins had recently learned during a lesson that a small lake near the Grand Duchy’s castle was connected to an underground waterway. Lairn had discovered it first, and Miore had come up with the plan.

There was a small drainage gate in the garden meant for heavy rains, just large enough for a four-year-old to slip through. Beyond the gate, there was a short drop—perfectly manageable for their light, nimble bodies. From there, they navigated the waterways, climbing up and down ladders and stairs until they reached the lake.

The twins had explored the route thoroughly beforehand, even venturing into the deeper parts where their heads were briefly submerged. Through the water’s surface, they could see the light shining above, confirming the path was safe.

Now, following their plan, they had successfully escaped the castle. Swimming to the lake’s edge, the children clapped their hands in triumph, laughing gleefully.

They removed their wet clothes and changed into fresh outfits they had carefully packed in an oiled cloth pouch. After wringing the water from their hair, they excitedly made their way toward the village.

“Wow!”

As soon as they stepped into the village, the twins gasped in awe. The path from the lake led directly to a bustling marketplace. Everywhere they looked, the sights and sounds were mesmerizing: merchants calling out to passersby, customers haggling, porters carrying heavy loads on their heads and hands, creaking carts laden with wine bottles, milk cans, and sacks of flour piled high, unprocessed animal carcasses hanging in rows, and an abundance of fruits and vegetables. The twins’ wide eyes darted around, captivated by the chaos and vibrancy.

“Lairn, do you have any money?”

“Hmm…”

Lairn frowned and glanced down at himself.

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