Camellia 69

As the sun set, the boy left Seolyeong’s side.

Left alone in Yeonhwa Hall, Seolyeong sat in the tearoom, slowly turning over the advice Yujae had whispered.

“Act like you like him, even if you don’t?”

The bitter scent of black tea filled his nose.

He took a slow sip and propped his chin against one elbow on the table. To be fair, his original plan had included charming the sect leader into falling for him. It had all gone to shit, of course, thanks to one disaster after another.

With a sigh and renewed resolve, Seolyeong thought to himself.

“Right… just staying angry because he’s cruel to me won’t solve anything.”

Why else would a man like that be the leader of a demonic sect? He had a vicious temper and a rotten personality, which made him perfect for getting worshipped by a bunch of fanatics.

Seolyeong thought of how far the Murong clan had fallen since losing its head. Murong Wi still hadn’t won the clan’s martial contest. Of course, Seolyeong wasn’t worried, he knew his sworn brother was hiding his true skill. The real problem was what would happen when he revealed it. He’d have to show his hand to silence the elders, which meant he’d take a hit in the process.

Once he proved himself, the elders would shut up, and his mother would come rushing in to force the marriage. Then what? Poor Hyeon would be stuck as a pawn again.

That thought made Seolyeong even more determined.

“…I need to seduce that bastard.”

He had to get the sect leader so enamored that the hostages in Yeonhu could be released and sent home. After all, he’d just spent a night with him and come out of it full of confidence. He muttered to himself as he brushed his fingers over his groin.

“He drooled all over me like he couldn’t get enough… If I use that, maybe I can turn him into a doting husband.”

He just hoped the man would stop forcing human blood on him.

Since arriving at Yurigung, Seolyeong hadn’t touched even a drop of animal blood. That night, he’d been so excited he thought he might lose his mind.

Human blood was nothing like the blood of beasts. It was sweeter, addicting. It clung to the tongue, and the more he drank, the hungrier he got. His fangs itched from the craving.

“Haah…”

He sighed and looked out the window, face drained of energy.

Snow hadn’t fallen in Yeonhu for several days. It felt like nature’s twisted way of thanking him for offering up his body. What a joke, Seolyeong thought, grumbling under his breath.

***

Just like the boy had warned, once the arrival of the North Sea delegation was officially announced, the servants all moved down to Mount Chiljeong.

During their stay, Seolyeong was relocated to Gwanju Hall. The servants stationed there were trained in martial arts, so they didn’t need to flee from the incoming cold. For a while, they’d be helping prepare Seolyeong’s appearance for his introduction to the delegation.

“Not good.”

What he hadn’t expected was for the sect leader to personally get involved and treat him like some dress-up doll.

That “not good” was the fifteenth one in a row. Seolyeong ground his molars in frustration.

He’d rush into the sect leader’s room in full ceremonial silk, hair arranged to match the outfit, and without fail, he’d get a scathing critique.

“The jewelry’s off. You really think platinum suits you?”

Seolyeong finally snapped.

“You don’t like jade, you don’t like ruby, you don’t like amethyst, you don’t like gold… Now you don’t even like platinum. What am I supposed to wear, then?”

“I don’t know.”

The sect leader gave him a mockingly gentle smile.

“Maybe it’s because I know now you’re not some demure little wife, but you look so awkward dressed up like one.”

“I am the most demure wife in the world.”

“You used to curse me out and glared at me like you wanted to stab me.”

“That was…!”

That was because you shoved blood-covered fingers in my mouth and tried to mount me like a beast, he almost said. But Seolyeong bit his tongue. Technically, he was the one who ended up on top.

Seolyeong turned sharply on his heel.

“I’ll go change.”

The sect leader had been tormenting him for over an hour under the excuse of picking an outfit to greet the delegation. With dragging feet, Seolyeong headed for the white steel doors already open for him.

The servants looked at him, asking with their eyes if he’d been rejected again. He gave them a weak nod.

“Apparently no outfit can keep up with my beauty. My looks are a curse.”

The servants exchanged awkward glances.

After scratching his chin in thought, Seolyeong’s eyes sparkled with a new idea. He leaned in and asked casually:

“If I can’t get a compliment no matter how many times I change, how about this?”

When he suggested wearing a namsam, a silk robe with nothing underneath, the servants protested desperately. But he was so insistent, they had no choice but to fetch a transparent piece of fabric and help him into it. Humming to himself, Seolyeong slipped into the robe.

Then he stepped back into the bedroom.

Seolyeong felt more confident in his judgement as he watched the sect leader laugh in disbelief. He approached him, the sheer fabric swaying with every step.

“I had a feeling you wanted to see me like this, husband. So I pushed past my shame to please you.”

He had tied up his long hair to expose the full line of his neck. He planted his hand on the table with a thud.

“What do you think of this look?”

Tang Yujae looked him up and down slowly. The body visible beneath the robe was lean and toned with muscle, yet the waist tapered in, and the pink of his nipples gave off a lewd aura.

After a pause, the cult leader gave his verdict.

“Cheap.”

“…Excuse me?”

“If the Bing girls see that, they’ll think you’re some second-rate street whore.”

“…I dressed for you, you know?”

“It doesn’t look that good to me either.”

Seolyeong felt rage boiling in his chest. Forget seduction, he wanted to punch the man in the face. Not that he’d live to tell the tale.

Tang Yujae watched his expression collapse with amusement. He brushed his hand over the back of Seolyeong’s, then asked:

“Do you want me to think you’re pretty?”

Seolyeong flinched at the sudden touch, then answered a beat later.

“…Yes. I do.”

“Why?”

“I want you to be kinder to me, my lord.”

“You sure didn’t act like it when you looked ready to tear my throat out.”

Yujae slowly pulled his hand back and pointed to his neck. The puncture wounds from Seolyeong’s fangs were still there. That shut him up fast.

A long moment passed before Seolyeong finally spoke.

“If I drink animal blood once every five days… I won’t need to bite anyone. It doesn’t matter what it is, duck, chicken, pig, even a rat. Just… please grant me an animal, husband.”

The extreme cold on Mount Yeonhu had wiped out most nearby animals. Blood would have to be brought in from another mountain. Seolyeong bowed his head and pleaded.

“Please, I will never commit such an act of rudeness.…”

“From now on just bite my neck.”

Seolyeong was dumbfounded by the unexpected statement.

“What…what do you want me to do?”

Tang Yujae gave him a stupidly serene look as he added,

“Bite your husband’s neck, Ahyeong.”

The cheerful tone nearly made Seolyeong collapse.

“W-why would I bite your neck? I don’t want to drink human blood! Even if it’s from someone barely human, I don’t want to drink any more…! No…! No, no…”

“Go on.”

“……”

Damn it. He’d gotten carried away and slipped. His gaze darted everywhere, panic rising. Sweat trickled down his spine, and his palms tingled from the tension.

Tang Yujae rose like a predator. Seolyeong stumbled back.

“If you like it forced, I can help you out.”

The man jabbed a finger into the healing fang marks, letting blood drip. Seolyeong stared in horror.

“As your husband, it’s only right.”

He had to run. If this kept going, he’d repeat the same mistake. But his legs wouldn’t move. Seolyeong panicked, he shouted.

“No, no! Please don’t come near me! If you get close I’ll bite my tongue and kill myself, you bastard!”

It looked like the first attempt to seduce the sect leader had ended in complete failure.