Lust for the King’s Wife

Chapter 9: Shared Bed, Two Thoughts (3)

“The king… truly an ambitious man.”

Jorfe summarized the earlier dinner conversation with this simple observation. From her spot on the sofa, Siha, munching on some food I had brought back, raised her eyebrows and asked incredulously,

“Huh? You think so? But he said he’s ready to hand everything over to Alf. Doesn’t an ambitious person cling to power and fight to the bitter end?”

“That’s not ambition, that’s greed,” Jorfe replied with a calm tone. “The king doesn’t want to be remembered as a decrepit old man clinging to power. He wants to be respected as a wise predecessor—a monarch who left behind a golden age when the applause was loudest.”

“But that makes him not the main character anymore. How’s that ambitious?”

“That’s the highest ambition a usurper can have, Siha. To change a nation with purpose, then pass on the torch. If Alf becomes a truly great king, the king will be remembered as the founding father of an enduring legacy.”

“Humans are so simple-minded. That’s why they’re forever at the mercy of those in power.”

“No, it’s clever. Cunning, even,” Jorfe said, shuddering slightly. But Siha, unimpressed, kept swinging her legs lazily.

“Well, I guess it’s a good deal for Alf. The guy’s basically giving him the whole kingdom. What a generous philanthropist.”

“That’s one way to see it. But if you think about it, he’s not really giving up anything he truly owns.”

“You’re just bitter. He’s giving Alf the kingdom and throwing in his daughter as a bonus.”

“Neither of which are fully his. The kingdom? Taken from the previous king. His daughter? She was always going to leave him one day.”

“Huh…”

“And let’s not forget the title of founding father he’ll gain later on. He’s offloading all the hard work while keeping the rewards for himself.”

It was a harsh but accurate analysis. Finally, Siha shifted her posture, her expression growing serious as she turned her attention to Jorfe.

This time, it was Jorfe who smirked faintly before continuing with a casual tone.

“Well… it’s not all bad, though.”

“What? You’re making a big deal of it, and now you’re backtracking? Are you joking?”

“Think about it. At least he’s not plotting to harm Alf. At worst, he’s just asking him to clean up his mess. Considering how many loyal retainers are discarded after achieving great deeds, this is a relatively fair deal.”

“So basically, he’s dumping his problems on Alf. Not the worst thing, but hardly great either.”

“Still, if Alf brings peace to the kingdom, it would be worth it. He’d make a fine king.”

Such praise felt too grand for someone like me, an ordinary mercenary who had wandered into extraordinary circumstances. Yet even Siha, though yawning, nodded in agreement.

“True, not many humans earn the respect of both elves and Harbit. Yeah, I guess he could be a good king—as long as this softie doesn’t mess things up before he takes the throne.”

“And avoiding temptation will be crucial,” Jorfe added. “Many people will try to win Alf over to their side—possibly for the most extreme purposes.”

“Like rebellion?” Siha asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly. The current king doesn’t have much trust among the people. He’s a usurper who lost face when the princess was abducted by a dragon.”

“And then along came some crazy guy who rescued her. A guy who’s better than the current king in almost every way. Sounds like a perfect excuse for a coup.”

“Add the support of elves and a sage, and it’s a recipe for success,” Jorfe concluded.

Siha rolled her eyes at that, but Jorfe’s voice grew serious as he addressed me directly.

“That’s why you need to be careful, Alf. Choose your company wisely, and keep your actions measured. I think ascending the throne as smoothly as possible is your safest option.”

“…”

“Of course, if you don’t want to be king, that’s a valid choice too. But still, I think—”

“…”

“Alf? Are you listening?”

Noticing my distraction, Jorfe grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward him. 

Even then, my thoughts were consumed by a single realization, one I muttered aloud.

“The mark I left on her neck… it’s still there.”

“What?”

“The mark I left on her neck… it’s still there.”

I stared blankly at him and repeated the words again.

“The mark I left on her neck, Jorfe. It’s still there.”

“Alf…”

“Why didn’t she hide it?”

“Oh no,” Jorfe muttered, his expression turning grave. He gripped my shoulders tightly, his tone firm.

“Listen to me. Not yet, Alf.”

“Not yet?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, your position isn’t solid enough yet. You haven’t officially been engaged, haven’t built strong alliances here. Yes, the people love you, but in the palace, it’s different.”

“I know.”

“Then you know you can’t risk upsetting the king right now.”

“I know.”

“Do you really?”

Jorfe’s tone was thick with concern. He’d never seen me act this way before, and it clearly worried him.

I was just as perplexed by my own behavior. Why was I acting so foolishly? As I wrestled with these thoughts, Siha chimed in, her words laced with her usual sardonic humor.

“Why stop him? Let him keep it up—they’ll be a proper scandal soon enough.”

“Siha.”

“Seriously, if the guy’s finally trying to live for himself, why make him wait? He’s been playing the perfect knight for years. Wouldn’t it suck to make him keep doing that forever?”

“Siha, that’s enough,” Jorfe snapped. “You know that’s not the point.”

“What, am I wrong? You’re acting like a busybody, trying to boss around someone who’s probably sick of following orders.”

“That’s not what I—”

Their bickering was familiar, but it rarely ended well. For once, the leader in me resurfaced, and I stepped between them.

“I’ll be careful, Jorfe.”

“What?”

“You’re right. I’ll be careful. You’ve never been wrong about these things.”

I spoke with firm resolve, and Jorfe’s expression softened slightly with guilt.

“Of course, it’s just my perspective…”

“…”

“But I do think it’s the best course for you.”

I nodded in silent agreement, a gesture of commitment, though I wasn’t sure I could keep the promise. My gaze drifted away as the memories of that night continued to haunt me.

Why does the light seem blinding even in the dead of night?

It must be my imagination. Or, as Jorfe often says, some minor madness brought on by stress. Or perhaps it’s the trauma of blood and violence surfacing again.

Or maybe it’s the red mark on her pale neck, scattering my thoughts like a maddening obsession.

“…”

Unable to sleep, I eventually rose and stepped out of the room.

“Hah…”

A stifled sigh escaped me, a lingering echo of suppressed yearning. Without direction, my feet moved on their own, taking me outside. 

Perhaps my long years of wandering had left me with a restless spirit, guiding me unconsciously.

Or maybe, I was secretly hoping for a chance encounter with her under the guise of coincidence.

The thought crossed my mind just as my gaze drifted to the royal palace’s outer wall. Years of honed instinct made it easy to identify her room’s location.

“Fifth floor. Left corridor, farthest inside.”

Her chambers, as befitting a queen, were located at the very top. The surrounding walls were made of reinforced materials, ensuring safety. A good place to protect a dignitary.

Yet at the same time, it was far too isolated. A room so high might as well be underground, with its oppressive lack of windows due to the reinforced left wall blocking any view of the outside.

Rather than the chambers of a queen, it felt more like…

“What the hell are you thinking, you idiot?”

“…Ah.”

A sharp voice cut through my thoughts. Looking up, I saw Siha perched on a tree branch like a cat.

“Can’t sleep? Let me guess—you’re too busy thinking about her to close your eyes, aren’t you?”

“…”

“That face says it all. I nailed it, didn’t I?”

“Siha, you shouldn’t climb the trees in the garden. The gardeners work hard to maintain them.”

“Good grief, you’re unbelievable.”

Siha jumped down with a dramatic sigh but couldn’t resist snapping the tip of the branch she’d been sitting on, as if to make a point.

“So, what are you up to? Taking a midnight stroll?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Right. The hero who saved the world can’t possibly be satisfied with some naive little princess.”

“Siha.”

“Just admit it already. You don’t need to put on a show with me.”

She chuckled, draping an arm over my shoulder while jabbing my side with her other hand.

“It’s obvious. You’re so preoccupied with her that you can’t function. I don’t know why, but you’re acting like she’s the only one in the world for you.”

“…”

“And yet you’re such a pushover that when Jorfe tells you to stay put, you actually listen. What the hell does he know? A brainiac who doesn’t even reproduce can’t possibly understand love.”

“You’re not much better.”

“Shut up. I just have too many hobbies to waste time on romance.”

Her jabs turned into a sudden punch to my stomach, drawing a groan of pain. As I tried to recover, Siha crossed her arms and looked at me seriously.

“So, tell me honestly—do you not want to marry the princess, or is it that you actually like the queen?”

“What’s your point, Siha?”

“That depends on your answer.”

“…I can’t answer that.”

“God, you’re such a pain in the ass.”

She let out a string of curses before casting her gaze toward the distant hills.

“I’ll be leaving in three days. So will Jorfe.”

“Three days?”

“Maybe even sooner.”

“…”

Her sudden declaration left me with a pang of regret, but before I could dwell on it, she spoke again.

“So, if you have any favors to ask, now’s the time.”

“Favors?”

“Yeah, about her. Anything at all—just say it.”

“You’re not going to stop me?”

“If I did, you’d just do something even crazier, you lunatic.”

It was, in some ways, a more accurate assessment than Jorfe’s measured analysis. With a determined look, Siha continued.

“But since I’m the certified crazy one in this party, if you need to preserve your hero’s dignity, I’ll do the crazy thing for you.”

“…”

“So, just say the word.”

“If you want, I’ll even kidnap the queen for you.”