Are Beast Nobles Supposed to Be This Lewd?

Chapter 111: State Secrets

Mirabelle laughed into Lucien’s kiss before finally leaning back, gasping softly for air. Her lips still tingled pleasantly, and for a few lingering heartbeats she could feel the ghost of his kiss every time she breathed.

The air tasted like him. Sunlight caught in cedarwood.

Yet... Something was missing.

She had noticed it with Kaelith and Silas.

How their scent had changed after she marked them.

How subtle new notes had woven themselves into their natural fragrance, completing it somehow.

She loved it.

Every slow breath filled something hungry inside her with quiet contentment, a part of herself that seemed to have waited a lifetime for exactly this.

A deep, ancient instinct inside her found profound satisfaction in breathing in the scent of her males... And knowing everyone else could smell it too.

But Lucien still carried only his own scent.

A powerful urge deep inside her decided that needed to change.

"If you don’t make your pants disappear this instant," she warned, "I promise you there’ll be a conflict between our clans unlike anything this world has ever seen."

She was only half joking. The desire burning inside her was so overwhelming that, at that particular moment, a war almost seemed like an acceptable price to pay.

...

All right.

Perhaps the fire had melted her brain a little.

The fox Beastman laughed. To her ears, it sounded like liquid sunlight.

"Can my lady truly bear to be without my company for that long?"

"Some sacrifices must be made for peace between our territories."

Lucien placed both hands beside her head, taking care not to trap any of her curls beneath them.

Then he pushed himself upright. His muscles flexed.

For the briefest moment, the warmth of his body left her, and she was surprised by how quickly she already missed it.

Mirabelle swallowed. Her pulse fluttered once in her throat.

She hoped he hadn’t noticed.

He almost certainly had.

Now standing before her, his shirt torn open and his trousers very obviously fitting a little too tightly, Lucien made for quite the sight.

Deciding she deserved a better view herself, Mirabelle sat upright. Her legs dangled over the edge of the table, and the hem of her dress now concealed her center once more.

They almost looked respectable.

Well... With enough imagination, at least.

Lucien admired his female as his fingers slowly drifted toward his leather belt.

A loose curl brushed softly across her cheek before the breeze carried it away again.

She barely noticed. Her attention remained entirely fixed on him.

Rose petals swirled lazily around the female. The sunlight kissed her skin much the way he had only moments ago, wrapping her in a warm golden glow.

Slowly...

He unfastened the buckle of his belt.

Mirabelle’s eyes followed every single movement like a cat watching prey. Her tail twitched excitedly behind her.

Then...

An idea crossed his mind.

Lucien remained exactly where he was. A faint smile played at the corners of his lips.

Not cocky.

Not arrogant.

Simply... confident.

The afternoon breeze wandered through the rose garden once more.

"So..." Mirabelle tilted her head to one side.

"What exactly are you planning now, Lucien of Rotwald?"

Lucien’s emerald eyes sparkled.

"I’m considering another diplomatic gesture."

She raised an eyebrow:

"Go on."

His gaze lingered on her for another heartbeat before dropping to himself.

His shirt still hung open from where she’d torn it apart earlier. The soft breeze slipped beneath the fabric, lifting it ever so slightly before letting it fall back against him.

Lucien chuckled quietly.

"It appears the lady has already made a rather convincing opening statement."

Mirabelle’s lips twitched.

"I did."

"And I quite liked your negotiation style."

She rolled her eyes.

"I noticed."

Slowly, almost ceremoniously, Lucien slipped the shirt from his shoulders.

There wasn’t the slightest trace of haste in his movements. His muscles tensed as he subtly turned his upper body, somehow managing to make the simple act of removing his shirt showcase every line of his well-trained physique.

Mirabelle watched. Not because he was taking his shirt off.

Because everything he did seemed impossibly... graceful.

She couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to.

There was no unnecessary movement.

No wasted gesture.

Everything about him seemed effortless, as though elegance had become second nature.

Every movement flowed effortlessly into the next.

Deliberate.

Controlled.

Like someone who had spent his entire life being watched.

Sunlight filtering through the climbing roses painted shifting patterns across his skin as the leaves swayed gently overhead.

Warm patches of light drifted slowly across his shoulders, making it seem as though the garden itself refused to look away.

Lucien noticed her staring.

His smile deepened.

"I believe..." He brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve before remembering he was no longer wearing one. "...I’m receiving a favorable evaluation."

Mirabelle refused to answer.

Instead, she reached for his neglected teacup.

Unfortunately for her... She completely missed it on her first attempt.

Lucien politely pretended not to notice.

She politely pretended she hadn’t.

The fox Beastman lowered his gaze to the leather belt around his waist.

His fingers rested on the polished copper colored buckle.

He didn’t move immediately.

The hesitation itself somehow felt more intimate than the motion that would follow.

He looked back up at Mirabelle.

"May I?"

She met his eyes.

The silence stretched just long enough for him to wonder whether she’d refuse.

Instead...

She gave the tiniest nod.

"You’re asking for an awful lot of permission for someone who usually has an answer to everything."

"I’ve recently learned the value of asking first."

The corners of Mirabelle’s mouth softened.

"...Good."

Lucien inclined his head.

His fingers loosened the buckle with a quiet metallic click.

The soft metallic sound seemed impossibly loud.

It echoed through the otherwise peaceful garden like the opening note of a performance only the two of them understood.

He pulled the belt free in one smooth motion before coiling it neatly around one hand.

Even that...

He somehow managed elegantly.

For a brief moment, Mirabelle wondered what one could do with that belt.

Entirely against her own intentions, memories of her night with Silas in the forest slipped into her imagination.

The knot of desire low in her stomach gave a little leap.

But she said nothing.

She wanted to see where all of this would develop naturally.

And considering it had started with a striptease...

How could it possibly end badly?

He draped the belt over the chair beside his shirt. Then looked back at her.

"So..."

His fox ears twitched expectantly.

"Has House Rotwald recovered at least a fraction of its honor?"

Mirabelle deliberately let her gaze wander across the perfectly arranged tea table.

The white lace.

The porcelain.

The pastries.

The roses dancing gently in the breeze.

Finally...

She looked back at him. Her gaze lingerd just as long.

"Hm..."

She pretended to think very hard.

"I’d say negotiations are progressing..." A mischievous smile slowly spread across her face. "...remarkably well."

She let her gaze drift pointedly toward his trousers.

"Although..." She looked back up at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I have the feeling the High Duchy of Rotwald is still hiding a few state secrets from me."

"I would love to tell you all our secrets," Lucien said.

Mirabelle laughed.

"I’d much rather have you show me."

Her eyes slowly drifted downward, lingering for the briefest moment before traveling back up again. When they met his gaze once more, there was no mistaking the meaning behind the playful sparkle in her eyes.

"It appears we’ll have to strip completely naked for you," Lucien said, wearing the expression of a man making the greatest sacrifice of his life.

Mirabelle rolled her eyes.

"I’ll settle for you finally doing it."

For the first time, a hint of impatience slipped into her voice.

And nothing could have pleased the fox Beastman more.

She was telling him, as clearly as words ever could, just how much she wanted to be with him.

Was there an elegant way to take off a pair of trousers?

Mirabelle was fairly certain there wasn’t.

And yet...

Somehow, Lucien managed exactly that.

He slipped out of them without a single hurried movement, without the awkward tugging that usually accompanied such an endeavor, and still looked as though he’d been sculpted by the Beast Goddess herself.

No...

Like a god performing the remarkably ordinary act of taking off his trousers... and somehow turning it into art.

Mirabelle’s mouth went dry.

She wasn’t entirely sure whether it was a good sign that both she and Lucien had apparently arrived at the exact same conclusion before what was supposed to be a very serious conversation in the rose garden.

Somehow, they’d both decided this was the perfect occasion to forgo underwear altogether.

Because at this very moment...

She was staring at a very naked Lucien.

Sunlight filtered through the climbing roses overhead, while their swaying leaves cast shifting shadows across his skin.

Against his naturally fair complexion, they looked like living brushstrokes gliding over polished marble, lending him an almost ethereal beauty.

It was unfair.

Entirely unfair.

Even standing there without a shred of dignity left to hide behind, the fox Beastman somehow managed to look as though this had been a carefully rehearsed performance.

Unfortunately for Mirabelle...

There was one part of him that the dancing shadows stubbornly refused to conceal.

Judging by the unmistakable confidence written all over Lucien’s face...

He wasn’t the least bit disappointed by that fact.

Mirabelle swallowed.

’All right.’

It seemed this afternoon had taken an unexpectedly poetic turn.

And somehow...

She found she didn’t mind becoming part of Lucien’s masterpiece.