Dagan received a cart carrying breakfast for two from the servant and returned to bed. Unlike himself, who had already changed, his husband remained naked. Even though he had gone to the trouble of dressing him in his nightclothes after cleansing him, Lunarsion had immediately taken them off as soon as he woke up.
He had been blaming the heat, but it was obvious his excuse was nothing but a lie. Rising early with plenty of time on his hands, he’d reached for Dagan’s nightwear, letting his hands wander toward Dagan’s chest and groin. It was an invitation Dagan had always yearned for. Last night had been enjoyable, but he had been busy and hadn’t had the chance for a while.
That said, while Dagan had the whole day off, Lunarsion had work in the morning. Dagan caught his mischievous hand and lightly administered punishment. Lunarsion was thrown into disarray by Dagan’s hands and lips. He licked the hickeys and bite marks he had made on Lunarsion last night and left new ones on his still pristine skin. While letting out sweet moans, Lunarsion dug his nails into Dagan’s body, wrapped in his nightwear, with his slender fingers.
“Lunarsion…”
Dagan lowered his head and sucked Lunarsion off while squeezing the head of his flaccid penis. Dagan’s palm was large enough to completely grasp Lunarsion’s penis—which had gotten a bit smaller again—with one hand. Dagan being a half-demon, and continuing to inject his semen into Lunarsion, would slowly change his body and it was one of the signs that Lunarsion had accepted Dagan fully. Liking this a lot, Dagan often took Lunarsion into his mouth to caress it. But if he did that now, it wouldn’t just stop at fellatio.
Lunarsion ordinarily didn’t show his body to anyone, but sometimes, like now when Dagan stared at him like he was the most beautiful thing in existence, he felt like flaunting it.
“Ah… ha… ah!”
Lunarsion repeatedly reached multiple small climaxes, and Dagan also felt himself get harder and harder. “Maybe just some dry humping would be fine,” he thought, almost on the verge of giving in to temptation, when a modest knock on their bedroom door brought him back to his senses. At that, he stared up at Lunarsion, looking at him.
The refreshing early summer sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating Lunarsion’s naked body lying on the bed. His soft hair, disheveled and spread across the sheets, his pale skin lightly glistening with sweat, his red lips exhaling warm breaths, and his eyes, melting and moist, were all alluring.
Dagan steeled himself, controlling his lower abdomen, and endured.
“Time to get up and eat. I’m going to feed you.”
“Mn… thank you.”
Lunarsion, who had been basking in sweet afterglow, slowly sat up and moved to the edge of the bed.
Both of them were used to having breakfast in bed. When Dagan offered a bite–sized piece of fruit, Lunarsion opened his mouth like a baby bird being fed by its parent and began to eat. Even as he tried not to watch too closely the way his lips glistened with the fruit’s juice, Dagan also fed him bread and soup.
“Have some too. It’s delicious.”
With a mischievous smile, Lunarsion bit Dagan’s finger as he brought the bread to his mouth. Though the blatant temptation made it hard to resist, Dagan grit his teeth. If he acted now, it would be the end of Lunarsion’s ability to work today.
“You’re acting quite attached today. Is something wrong?”
“I just want you to pay attention to me.”
“Is that all? You’re so greedy.”
After chatting idly while they finished breakfast, Dagan helped clean Lunarsion’s body and dressed him. By nature, Lunarsion—as instilled by his parents’ strict upbringing—preferred to do as much for himself as possible when it came to his personal care, yet moments like these clearly delighted Dagan. Though Dagan longed to tie up Lunarsion’s silky hair someday, he always worried that such delicate strands might be damaged. Lunarsion had once laughed wryly, saying, “My hair isn’t that frail or sensitive,” but Dagan was genuinely worried about it.
“Alright then, I’m off. See you later.”
“Sure. I’ll pick you up in the afternoon.”
With work to do, Lunarsion headed to the office within the palace, while Dagan, with no work, headed outside the palace.
Even after defeating the Demon King and marrying Lunarsion, Dagan had remained busy. The first six months had been particularly hectic, but now, over a year later, he’d managed to find some free time.
Today was such a day. There was no knight-training sessions or practice, no official events or social engagements, and no paperwork or preparations related to them on the schedule. Since Lunarsion would be free from noon onward, Dagan planned to while away the time until then.
“Hey Notche, how have you been?”
At first, Dagan went to check on his beloved steed. His cherished black horse—having traveled many roads with him—even in its old age, continued to show unwavering affection. Dagan spoke to the steed while brushing its coat and checking its health. Reassured by the horse’s good condition, he then made his way to the training ground in the small forest adjacent to the palace. The facility was simple, a stone building that sometimes hosted training sessions for Lunarsion or the escorting knights, but at that moment it was empty—a welcome circumstance that meant no one would be caught up in his sudden bout of exercise. For a while, Dagan moved his body freely, stretching and practicing with abandon.
After completing his routine drills and taking a brief rest—there was still plenty of time before noon—so he decided he’d swing his sword a little more. With nothing else pressing, a thought struck him. There was something he ought to do: learn more about his territory.
Strictly speaking, it was the territory that Lunarsion had received and now administered, though he had said that someday he wanted Dagan to also take on a hand in its management. Up until now, Dagan had known next to nothing about the territory, its management, or the governing estates in general. Despite his rise from commoner to noble, he had never possessed a holding of his own.
(This isn’t good…)
Dagan had other responsibilities already, and he was told he could learn about the estate gradually. But he reasoned that the sooner he began, the better it would be—at the very least, he didn’t want to be a burden to Lunarsion.
With that resolved, it wasn’t long before Dagan made his way to the well to wash off some sweat, left the training ground, and returned to the palace.
(There must be some reference materials in the library…)
The library at the Moonflower Palace was normally off-limits without permission from either Lunarsion himself or the librarian. Yet Dagan was an exception. Feeling a twinge of superiority—and smiling wryly to himself at that thought—he headed to the library with light steps. He still harbored a self-conscious notion that it was unbecoming for a middle-aged man to be so giddy, yet he also thought, “I’m happy, so it can’t be helped.”
Lunarsion’s own gentle teasing—“You’re finally getting used to being happy”—was something he cherished dearly. Whether in the privacy of their bedroom or in other moments, Lunarsion showered Dagan with care, pouring happiness and peace into him. Dagan had long since drowned in and become addicted to this love, and there was no going back to the days when he had given up on loving another.
Though he worried that his lifespan might far exceed that of ordinary humans, he had long since reached a state of acceptance regarding what might come after loss. There was a time when, after confessing these feelings, Lunarsion had gotten angry and chastised him, “You’re being too negative! This is where you should be telling me to live long!” and then indulgently teased him, “I’ll never leave you alone.”
Such bittersweet memories resurfaced as he arrived at the library. After exchanging brief greetings with the sentry and receiving a magical lamp, Dagan entered the dark room, where rows upon rows of bookshelves stood packed tightly with books. Using a map posted near the entrance to confirm his location, he proceeded down the corridor. The shelves devoted to works on estate matters were in a deeper area.
(There are more volumes here than I expected…)
There were plenty to choose from—a roster of the stationed knights, records of past incidents and accidents, materials on local industries, histories and legends, records of regional taxation, and so on. For now, since he already knew the details about the knights stationed in the area, he selected several books related to local industry. With more opportunities to converse with aristocrats at evening gatherings and tea parties, it wouldn’t do to be ignorant about the specialties of his husband’s lands.
At the present moment, Dagan was being treated somewhat favorably in high society—for instance, in the past, he recalled being told to his face, “No matter how heroic you are, a half-demon is a bit…,” but now it was things like, “That formerly shy prince looks so happily at ease with you!” “He really sounds like a gentleman when he speaks!” “It must have been so easy to misunderstand you based off your looks…,” or even weird things like, “Huff huff… that rugged, darker-skinned, intimidating middle-aged man contrasting with the noble, fair–skinned, exquisitely beautiful youth… huff huff, time to get back to work on my manuscript!” All this was said in a warm, if not teasing, manner—but one never knew when he might slip up and fall from their good books. Before that happened, either Skyred or Theodora would likely put an end to any mischief in one way or another, and it was best if only a few cases were ever brought to light.
But Dagan knew that learning on his own was important. One felt it deeply as one grew older.
Deciding that merely observing would not get in the way, Dagan promptly headed for the office.
Once there, the sentry again let him pass without fuss. Inside, straight ahead, Lunarsion—his long hair gathered neatly into a single bun—sat facing his desk. Lunarsion did not seem to notice Dagan’s arrival. The clerks gathered around attempted to offer greetings immediately, but Dagan hushed them with a wave and a glance, then took a seat on the long bench by the door.
Lunarsion’s office was kept perpetually dim to avoid damaging the books—and it was cramped. It wasn’t just his imagination that it felt more crowded than before his travels, but originally this room should have been spacious. Instead, it was filled with multiple bookshelves and filing cabinets, Lunarsion’s own desk and chair, two desks and chairs for the clerks, a large table spread out for books and documents, and two long benches set around a little reception table near the door.
The mingled smells of books, ink, and assorted documents hardly made for a comfortable atmosphere. Yet Dagan savored every bit of the happiness that this space afforded him.
While he committed the book’s information to memory, he occasionally glanced up to observe Lunarsion. It was a delight to watch him at work or absorbed in reading. In front of anyone other than family, Lunarsion was always on guard, but once he became deeply focused, he was oblivious to everything around him. Although it didn’t happen anymore now, there were times in the past when this led him to wander off and go missing, leaving Dagan to find himself always having to track him down.
As the Third Prince, Lunarsion enjoyed a relatively free hand within the detached palace and often roamed about without his attendants. Back when Dagan served as a knight-guard, there were many times when an assembled batch of servants would set out searching for Lord Lunarsion—sometimes at the butler’s request, and sometimes on their own initiative—and it was always a challenge.
There were instances where Lunarsion would get so engrossed in searching for books in the library that he would end up in secluded corners, or he would be buried among the flowers in the garden, lost in thought for a long time, or even get accidentally locked away in an unused room while working on translations.
More often than not, it fell upon Dagan to locate him and then remind him not to be overly careless or to worry the attendants. In truth, however, Dagan secretly wished that Lunarsion would take his time to do what he liked—and there were occasions when they both simply relaxed together.
Dagan’s mind drifted back to when Lunarsion was sixteen, sitting in the dappled shade of a forest tree, so intently absorbed in a book that nothing else mattered. That too was a bright early summer day.
“Your Highness, are you here? Everyone’s been looking for you… Lord Lunarsion?”
Dagan finally found the person he had been searching for, who was neither in the detached palace nor in the garden, and called out to him multiple times. However, he received no response at all. Although he had indeed been searching for him, there was no urgent need. Resigned, Dagan lingered nearby, simply watching Lunarsion’s profile.
Even now, Lunarsion’s youthful features still retained a trace of his youthful innocence. The divine beauty he’d inherited from Theodora was almost otherworldly even at sixteen years of age. In those days, before he had gained the stature he now possessed, many were swept away by his charm and would entertain impure thoughts. Dagan and those with him were extra cautious and attentive whenever Lunarsion personally attended to guests or entered the royal castle.
Even Dagan himself—at that time—found himself captivated by Lunarsion’s long lashes which caught the sunlight as it filtered through the trees, by his pale blue eyes framed by those lashes, by his soft, pure cheeks, and by the slender fingers that turned the pages of his book. Quickly, he composed himself and averted his gaze. He swore he harbored no illicit thoughts, though secretly staring fixedly at his master was hardly admirable.
Instead, he shifted his gaze to the book Lunarsion was reading. The language written in it was one that Dagan completely did not understand. At the very least, it was not a language from neighboring countries.Yet Lunarsion read it without the aid of any dictionary or reference material. Dagan felt deeply moved by the wealth of knowledge contained within his master’s brilliant mind and his insatiable thirst for knowledge.
Even now, Lunarsion’s pale blue gaze remained fixed on the documents and books, completely oblivious to everything else. One moment he moved his pen with fluid precision; the next, he seemed to be lost in thought, his eyes drifting toward nothingness. Then he would rise and stretch out his hand to a bookshelf or filing cabinet, or issue a command to one of his servants or clerks. It appeared that at that very moment he was wrestling with the matter of flood control within their territory. Although the region was blessed with abundant water, it also demanded constant vigilance against flooding. In one of the books Dagan had brought along, there was a description to that effect.
“I love the moment when the knowledge in a book connects with reality.” Those words that Lunarsion had once said came to mind.
“I want to compare it with past records. Bring me fifty, no, a hundred years’ worth of rainfall and flood records from the archive.” Lunarsion ordered.
“Understood. Would you like me also to fetch materials on the surrounding regions?”
“Yeah, having it would be very helpful. As for the rest…”
Lunarsion, working with vibrant energy, appeared both dignified and dependable. His expression, set so seriously, explained why he had been dubbed “The Icy-Moon Lord” or “The Unsmiling Beauty of the Moon.”
The stark contrast between the fluffy, blissfully affectionate state when he was alone with Dagan and the entirely different, austere demeanor he maintained at other times was incredible. The former was as innocent and cute as a dandelion blooming in the sun, while the latter was as mesmerizing and beautiful as a moonflower in full blossom under a moonlit sky.
(Just in front of me!)
Dagan thought secretly with pride. His gaze as he watched Lunarsion was warm, passionate, and rather unabashed. A clerk who had thoughtfully prepared some tea gave a gentle but indifferent smile. The entire atmosphere became relaxed and touched by that simple humanity.
By the time Dagan finished reading one book and started on the second, Lunarsion’s work was done.
“Ah, the way you organized that document was excellent—if you could handle the next one the same way, that’d be a big help. …Everyone, you may take your leave for today. I’ll count on you after the break as well. …Huh? What? Dagan, you were here? Since when?”
It was only after all the subordinates had gone out that Lunarsion noticed Dagan. Suddenly his face flushed scarlet as he hurriedly spoke up. Dagan couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the sight of his adorable reaction.
“Eh? Dagan, since when have you been here?”
The question, both in expression and in words, echoed what Lunarsion used to say at age sixteen. Though their relationship—and they themselves—had changed over time, it felt as though nothing truly important had changed at all.
“Don’t laugh! It’s embarrassing, geez.”
Lunarsion pouted like he used to when he was sixteen. In those days, Dagan had fussed over apologizing formally, and Lunarsion probably never expected him to go that far to find him. Then, flustered, he would add, “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner.” and Dagan would silently reflect to himself that he’d perhaps overreacted.
But not now. Now, things were different.
Setting his book aside, Dagan rose and walked over. Gently gathering up the strands of Lunarsion’s tied platinum hair, he placed a tender kiss on him.
“You’re just too cute—I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry for laughing… As an apology, just name anything you want and I’ll do it—so please forgive me.”
Dagan had become much better at pleasing Lunarsion than he had in the past. As proof, Lunarsion’s cheeks, blushing for entirely different reasons than before, and that graceful, alluring smile on his face said it all.
“Anything… huh? Alright. I’ll forgive you.”
As their bodies embraced, Lunarsion silently wished that days as gentle and peaceful as this would continue forever.
And they lived happily ever after.
‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡
The End
Author: Yohan O
A bit of this, a bit of that, a bit of everything except straight
