TTQI 24

“Aion… ah…! Heugh…! Ah, Aion….”

In the early dawn, Zizlon was letting out a series of heated moans. Aion, who was thrusting his hips wantonly above him, wrapped his arms around Zizlon’s sweat-drenched neck and bit his ear.

“Yes?”

“Ah, inside… Heut… No, I don’t want it….”

Tears welled up in the prince’s eyes, looking as if they would fall at any moment. Aion paused his movements for a moment and stared intently at his pitiful face. Now, what would be the best way to handle this?

Their first clash, summarized as a conflict over a council agenda, had ended in Aion’s clear victory. Zizlon, having admitted defeat in the humiliating manner of kneeling on the cold stone floor and begging all night, returned to the bed where Aion awaited.

As if to make up for all they had longed for until now, the two mingled their bodies hotly almost every day. Dreamlike, intense days passed. Aion would part Zizlon’s legs and enter him whenever their eyes met, and Zizlon, who had learned his lesson after paying a hefty price, would spread his legs with unprecedented obedience. The child in his belly, which had made them refrain from intercourse for a while, was now gone, so there was nothing holding them back.

“You don’t want it?”

“I don’t… Inside, euk! Plea… please… Aah…!”

This dawn, too, they were in the middle of continuing the passionate relations that had started the previous night. As Zizlon, who had been ardently mingling his body with Aion’s, neared the peak of his climax, he suddenly grew frightened and started to whine. He gasped, swept away by pleasure, yet pleaded desperately, all the while showing an obedient side by not scratching or pushing Aion away. That much was good. The submissive attitude he had learned since the last incident was a very satisfactory result for Aion.

Aion pushed his member deeper into Zizlon’s groin and fell into thought. How should I handle this? Aion then whispered a thought that suddenly occurred to him.

“Then try asking for the opposite.”

“Ah, haahh… Yes?”

Zizlon squeezed out his ever-rising voice as he panted lewdly. Aion was holding Zizlon’s plump nipple and rubbing it roughly with his thumb. Every time Aion’s fingers crushed the sensitive bud, Zizlon would lift his chin and lewdly tighten around Aion’s member. The soft piece of flesh in his hand was pleasingly tender to the touch and a shy pink color. In contrast, his thick Adam’s apple, bobbing up and down, looked extremely firm. Admiring the magnificent sight before him, Aion smiled with satisfaction.

“Try asking me to cum inside you. To cum inside and get you pregnant.”

“My, my queen….”

“I told you to call me Aion.”

The visibly flustered prince looked at Aion reproachfully. Aion, feigning a stern expression, this time kneaded his firm chest. As he squeezed the nipple along with the breast, Zizlon ejaculated, his hips trembling vulgarly.

“Heh, heuek….”

Every time Zizlon caught his breath, his perky breasts could be seen shaking. His chest, which had already been nicely built from diligent training, had become even fuller as fat accumulated after the series of incidents.

Recently, Aion had made it a hobby to touch Zizlon’s soft chest until he cried and begged. And what about those nipples that had become as thick as a woman’s? Aion would bite and suck on them affectionately all night. It wasn’t just their appearance and texture that were praiseworthy. If he carefully bit and sucked on them, he would be rewarded with a sweet gift.

As he watched Zizlon climax, Aion tightened his grip on his chest. When he squeezed and twisted it hard enough to hurt, a white fluid shot out from the erect nipple with a squirt. Then, white liquid could be seen beading up on the thin skin of the nipple and areola. The white fluid slowly trickled down Zizlon’s rounded chest.

Zizlon, who had been catching his breath, turned his head away as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have. Aion let out a smirk, then with a gulp, he took Zizlon’s soft breast fully into his mouth. He then began to suckle the sweet milk forcefully. A rosy blush appeared on Zizlon’s cheeks.

It had already been nearly a month since Zizlon’s miscarriage. His slightly swollen belly had gone down, and Zizlon, who had been complaining of pain for a while, regained his energy in just a few days thanks to Aion’s devoted care. And a few weeks later, he was able to recover the same robust stamina as before. It was largely thanks to Aion keeping him from touching politics and ensuring he recuperated thoroughly.

But an unexpected aftereffect remained. The seed was gone, but the aftermath of the pregnancy he had once experienced was greater than imagined. Zizlon’s body began to act as if it were pregnant even after losing the child. And in a jumbled mess, at that.

His belly had slimmed down, but his breasts kept swelling even after the miscarriage. As fat settled on his once firmly muscled chest, the mounds of his breasts became so perky that they hardly looked like a man’s, to the point that Zizlon, aware of the clear change in himself, became terrified and begged Aion to treat him several times.

Aion, too, was surprised to face this unexpected change and considered for a while whether it would be best to provide treatment. But unfortunately, Aion quickly changed his mind. Because his chest, with its moderate layer of fat, gave a rapturous sensation to the one touching it.

Aion flatly refused Zizlon’s request, saying it was ‘beyond his abilities’. Zizlon, with no one else to consult, could only fret anxiously.

While Aion left him be, Zizlon’s body continued to leisurely change. Not only did his breasts become larger and softer, but his nipples also became plump, as if perfectly suited for a baby to latch onto. And surprisingly, one day, his body foolishly began to produce milk! Even though there was no child to nurse.

This was a change that even Aion had not imagined, but contrary to Zizlon’s abhorrence, he was extremely pleased. It felt like receiving a surprise gift. The first time he sensed the change was, of course, during intercourse.

Aion vividly remembers the moment milk first leaked from his nipples while they were mindlessly mingling their bodies. In their ecstasy, they froze as if by agreement the moment they discovered the white liquid flowing down his chest. The air above the bed froze for an instant, and a chilling silence descended for a few seconds. And a short while later, joy and sorrow diverged between Aion and Zizlon. Aion was ecstatic, while Zizlon’s face turned pale as he cried his heart out.

Aion, who had a blissful night that day, continued to enjoy Zizlon’s changes in the days that followed. Zizlon’s milk became a delightful snack for Aion. Moreover, if Aion berated him, calling it a ‘broken body’, Zizlon would readily shed sweet tears.

Zizlon seems to be hoping his milk will dry up someday, but from what Aion has observed for nearly a month, the amount of milk has only increased, showing no signs of diminishing. In a normal case, it would have already lessened or dried up by now. Judging from this fact, Aion secretly concluded that his chest would not return to its original state.

It was a body that had been created by defying and forcibly twisting the laws of nature in the first place. It wouldn’t be strange if it broke down and became seriously messed up at any time. But he didn’t bother to voice that fact and provoke the already anxious Zizlon’s mind. Because the sight of him fretting with hope was quite cute.

And along with the physical changes, a rather unwelcome change followed. The experience of spewing bright red blood all over the hallway that day seemed to have been quite a shock for Zizlon. Since then, Zizlon has become extremely afraid and reluctant to get pregnant. Since Aion taught him that great lesson, he generally tried not to displease him and acted obediently, but it was different when the fear of pregnancy suddenly loomed before him.

Zizlon would moan lovingly, but if Aion stiffened his body with his member still inside him, he would start trembling as if he had never been so pliant. Finding this amusing, Aion had even deliberately scared him a few times.

“N… No, I’d rather, in my mouth….”

It was the same today. When Aion turned him over, he, who had been groaning and moaning, brought his hands together in front of his chest and begged. He even offered his mouth instead, taking a submissive stance, which would have seemed cute on a normal day, but Aion was in a foul mood today for some reason.

It had been a long time since he had lost the desire to get him pregnant again and have a child, but it was uncomfortable to think that Zizlon had only been thinking about that while they were passionately mingling their bodies, and also, it wasn’t just once or twice; the same thing had been repeated dozens of times, so he was gradually getting tired of it.

Aion, being naturally perverse, decided that, on the contrary, he would make him say the words asking to be impregnated. As Aion tapped the soft opening of his womb with the head of his cock, Zizlon’s face immediately turned pale.

“Then try asking me to cum inside. Or else I’ll cum in here.”

Zizlon could be seen hesitating. Realizing he was scared but had no choice, he faltered, then hesitantly parted his lips.

“…Aion… please cum inside me.”

Seeing Zizlon wrap his arms around his neck as he said this, Aion’s lower abdomen tingled. He hugged Zizlon back and chuckled.

“More.”

“Fill me up with your seed… I want to be pregnant with your child.”

Whispering so with cheeks flushed from arousal, Zizlon looked like a harlot who truly desired a child. Aion’s uncomfortable feelings vanished in an instant, and with utmost satisfaction, he kissed Zizlon.

This was one of the changes he was particularly pleased with after teaching him his place. Zizlon, who in the past would blatantly show he was only complying reluctantly, had become quite good at catering to Aion’s moods. Unlike before, when his thoughts were obvious even when he was acting, he now had a decent semblance of sincerity and could voluntarily whisper lovely words. The prince who used to insist that he couldn’t say words he didn’t mean when asked to say ‘I love you’ was now gone. As the thought came to him, Aion commanded.

“Say you love me.”

“I love you.”

Zizlon replied instantly. How servile and lovely is that? Aion let out a suppressed sigh. There was no reason not to indulge in this bizarre little charade.

“You cunning little vixen. Are you trying to get pregnant with my child to snag a concubine’s position?”

“Aah…!”

Aion easily betrayed his promise to him. He hugged Zizlon’s neck tightly and drove the head of his cock deep into the hollow of his cervix. He immediately began a rough mating. Under the fierce force, Zizlon’s pelvis was lifted high, and his back arched like a bow. Aion slammed their flesh together so violently that water splashed from their joining. The sticky walls of flesh twitched and spasmed, and Zizlon gasped and shuddered.

“Ah, no…! Eu, heu, ang! A-eung! Ah, it hurts! Heu, eung! Euk! Heut, ah-euk!”

It was when Aion growled and sank his teeth into his shoulder. Zizlon’s body trembled as if having a seizure, and a hot, viscous liquid slowly spread inside him.

“Ah… A-euh… Eu….”

Likewise dribbling a watery semen, Zizlon, with his eyes half-rolled back, could only gasp for breath. Aion held his body and caught his breath for a while before slowly getting up. The tightly stretched walls of flesh, which had been completely clinging to Aion’s member, released his cock with a pop. The prince’s groin, red and raw from the rough friction, was a mess of all kinds of fluids. Through the lewdly open, pulsing red hole, the cervix that had descended to receive the seed was slightly visible. Aion patted his lower abdomen as if in praise.

The prince floundered in the afterglow for a while before barely regaining his senses at the feel of Aion caressing his body. Realizing the situation at once, he wore a shocked expression and immediately started to squeeze out tears.

“You, you said you wouldn’t….”

Aion lay down next to him with a satiated expression and wrapped his arm around Zizlon’s waist. Unlike the tearful Zizlon, a satisfied smile lingered on his face.

“Did I?”

Aion answered nonchalantly as if it were someone else’s business, playfully pecking his cheek. Zizlon, lying there dazedly, groaned and eventually buried his face in his hands again. Zizlon, much more faint-hearted than before, would cry at the drop of a hat. ‘He certainly cries well,’ Aion thought relaxedly and yawned languidly.

Zizlon quickened his pace, avoiding the countless gazes that were watching him.

Every time he crossed the corridor, the sound of whispering invariably followed him from behind. The topic was obvious. The prince who had lost the king’s trust. The downfall of the versatile crown prince who had been so favored. The prince who had defied the king’s expectations and was slapped in his presence.

Even though his heart pounded, Zizlon tensed his facial muscles to feign composure. He didn’t show any sadness, but he didn’t force a smile either. It was better not to reveal any agitation, no matter what. He closed his ears, covered his eyes, and pretended not to know.

‘It’s okay. I’m okay.’

Yes, Zizlon was not resentful of those whispering behind his back, though he feared them. He was concerned for them. Most of those who hadn’t personally fought in the war did not know what kind of crisis they were currently in. They were blissfully unaware that they were being sucked moment by moment into this great vortex of history that might be recorded for posterity, busy just whispering to each other. The shortsightedness of these ignorant and complacent people was pitiful. Zizlon worried for them in their ignorance.

That is why Zizlon puts more strength into his hands. Zizlon feigned composure not for his own prestige, but out of a leader’s sense of responsibility. In dangerous times, a leader must steadfastly maintain his composure. This was the posture of a king that he had learned. A monarch must hold the center firmly; if he were to waver, the weak on the periphery would surely fall away.

After passing through the corridor at a quick pace, Zizlon entered the room where his guests were waiting. Inside the room, set in a secluded place, young nobles who shared his views were waiting for him. Some had disappeared since the last incident, and there were also many more newly joined nobles. This was likely because their conflict had become even more distinct.

“Have you been waiting long? Let’s begin immediately.”

The prince said dryly before sitting at the head of the table. The nobles who followed him to their seats began to pour out their agenda items as if they were used to it. A sense of defeat already pervaded the room. This political gathering, organized to check the queen’s faction, was currently in a state of crisis. It was all because of the standing army and the tribunal, which had been pushed through by the queen’s influence and passed in the last council meeting.

The establishment of these institutions, which had been adopted boldly despite fierce opposition, was now proceeding without a hitch. The two institutions, which implicitly pressured the nobles, were exerting definite pressure, both directly and indirectly, on the forces opposing the queen’s will.

As expected, the nobles began by voicing their concerns and complaints. Most of them, being lords with large territories, expressed concern that the tribunals were being established within their own lands. It wasn’t anything new; it had been this way recently. The prince tried not to show his fatigue and listened attentively.

To make matters worse, past incidents also troubled him.

“Your Highness, regarding Marquis Yngsen who is currently in quarantine. The soldiers there are insisting they will not cooperate unless they are given more money, so I believe more funds will be needed.”

“Them? Didn’t we just give them more money a short while ago?”

“Yes, but they are asking for more money again. What should we do… We cannot leave Lord Yngsen in such a harsh environment where he cannot even have a proper meal, can we?”

“Even so, giving them a penny here and there will amount to too much money. It’s not good to grant their demands every time in the first place. They might get arrogant and not know their place.”

“But I am worried about how Lord Yngsen will manage his affairs for now. They say the cold will be quite severe for a while, and if he were to fall ill….”

Listening to the report of the man who lamented while watching his expression, Zizlon slightly furrowed his brows. No matter how he looked at it, the man’s intention, speaking as if he were concerned, did not seem pure. The last time, the same person had said the same thing, and though he was unsure, he had sent the money. But for them to demand more money after only a few days was suspicious. Even if they were soldiers from the frontier, they would know what haggling is.

Anyone who has experienced it would know. It takes a great deal of effort not to hate people.

No matter how pure and true the beginning was, one can never know the future. In fact, the intentions of all groups are altered with time. At the beginning of this gathering, young and passionate nobles who were genuinely worried about the fate of the country had surely gathered and joined forces. However, Zizlon had recently been catching glimpses of those who seemed to be subtly showing their selfish motives.

This was, in fact, a limitation of all kinds of groups. It is impossible to completely see through a person’s heart, so one cannot completely prevent impure individuals from mixing into the group. In this gathering formed under a sense of mission, there would certainly be righteous people, but there would also undoubtedly be opportunists who wanted to line up well and secure a position in the new era.

However, he did not complain, because, as he himself thought, the fact that the pure gathering had been corrupted in such a short period was, in a way, largely his own fault for losing trust.

Above all, the incident at the last council meeting had a great impact. On the day they were facing a grave issue, Zizlon, with the lives of innocent people held hostage, had futilely declared his surrender to the queen. And as the price of surrender, he was completely isolated from politics for the crucial few days when the vote was being conducted, and the nobles who had trusted and followed him lost contact with their leader without knowing why.

The prince’s faction, leaderless at the most critical time, tried their best but failed to achieve any significant results, and in the end, all the plans proposed by the queen were passed easily. It would be strange if the prince’s supporters did not feel betrayed by him because of this incident.

Moreover, Zizlon, upon his late return, did not offer them any explanation. Of course, he couldn’t possibly say, ‘Your leader offered his body to the enemy’s chief,’ even if his mouth were torn open. But probably, most of them had doubted the prince’s motives. As a result, some left, and some remained. And under an untrustworthy leader, untrustworthy retainers gather. It was a matter of course.

In fact, Zizlon was bitterly aware of the reasons for his failure. It was due to his nature of not being able to stand by and watch people be sacrificed. Protecting the lives of innocent people might be ethically right, but it was not necessarily so for a leader. One who is to become a king must know how to sacrifice the few for the sake of the many. One cannot become a wise leader by clinging to each and every individual life.

Zizlon mocked himself. Recently, he had been seriously doubting his own qualifications as a prince. The root of all tragedy was the queen’s sorcery, but he felt these days that it was his own incompetence that had aggravated the situation. The current predicament was proof of his incompetence.

Every time he recognized his own situation, an unbearable sense of depression washed over him. Each time, Zizlon had to strive not to let go of everything. Sometimes he felt it would be better for everyone if he let go of it all, that he was not qualified to lead them. Then, when he barely regained his composure, he would suddenly realize how foolish his thoughts had been. This cycle repeated. It was arduous and he found himself disgusting, but Zizlon continued this tiresome fight.

“Since His Majesty is bewitched by the queen and unable to make clear judgments, we must consider even extreme situations.”

Count Renard, who sat beside the prince with a grayish beard, muttered grimly. They did not know about the queen’s sorcery, but they had vaguely noticed that the queen had clouded the king’s reason.

And Zizlon understood what he was saying. He asked back in a somewhat subdued voice.

“…Do you have any forces?”

Then Renard replied in a solemn voice, as if he would not shy away from war itself.

“I have about two hundred private soldiers in my fief. We discussed it briefly before Your Highness arrived, and those present here also have a few. If it really comes to it, the baron here has a brother-in-law who is an officer in Ostaben, so we could request aid from there.”

The prince, who listened intently to his words until the end, answered calmly.

“Good. Then keep those precious forces of yours hidden away carefully.”

“Your Highness…!”

Renard let out a small groan. Zizlon shook his head firmly with a cold expression.

“I have no intention of seeing blood. To discuss rebellion with so little is like taking an axe to cut grass. Reflect on your actions, Lord Renard. This is not an emergency situation at all. Have we suffered any casualties? Or have I been deprived of my right of succession? We have not lost anything yet, so it is foolish to be scared in advance and talk of shedding blood. It would be better to think of peaceful means we can use before that. Surely.”

“No, that is not what I meant. It was just a consideration of a what-if scenario. We must at least be prepared. If the situation becomes irreversible….”

The baron, who had suddenly become one who plotted treason, hardened his face and stepped forward with a humble posture. Nevertheless, the prince coolly drew the line.

“Even in the worst-case scenario, it is a matter to be reconsidered. As long as I have the right to the throne.”

“But Your Highness! We might lose what little we have in an instant. It will be much harder to prepare then.”

Perhaps feeling sorry for Renard who was struggling alone, a young noble stepped in to help. But the prince replied with a conviction that it would never happen.

“Even the queen cannot make such an extreme choice. For example, if she were to revoke my right of succession, to whom would she give it? To Komnena’s cousin, since she has no children? That’s absurd. Even if she tried, it would be a dangerous attempt, incomparable to what she has done so far. The queen must ultimately be mindful of His Majesty. The reason she could do as she pleased until now was because her pretexts were plausible and she had not yet shown great ambition. But if there is something she wants to achieve, she will eventually show her true colors, and then she will inevitably be blocked by opposition. If the evidence of her overstepping her authority is clear and the nobles’ backlash is strong, His Majesty will not be able to just stand by and watch the queen. He is, after all, a person who distinguishes between public and private matters.”

“Hmm….”

“What we should be wary of is not that, but a more secretive and subtle plot. If it proceeds unnoticed, it will be difficult to provoke a backlash. Therefore, it would be wise to engage in a power struggle shrewdly while keeping an eye on the queen’s movements.”

The prince spoke with confidence and conviction. The basis of his argument was the king, the seat of power. He was convinced that although the king was making wrong choices now, he would surely make the right judgment at the crucial moment. That the wise ruler of Yonaras would eventually overcome the wicked Komnena’s sorcery and once again stand on the side of justice. That was how much the prince trusted the father he had known. However, the nobles returned with uneasy expressions that lingered until the meeting was over.

The reason no one refuted the prince’s words, despite being inwardly anxious, was because what he said was perhaps an ideal argument close to sound theory. Strictly speaking, he was silencing the aggressive extremists by presenting a sound theory, and in reality, all the prince was doing was placating those who were clamoring for a preemptive strike and persuading them to wait for the right time.

Zizlon’s strategy is defensive to the point that they would feel dissatisfied. It is to find out the queen’s secret strategies that are progressing covertly and to counter them, and he was still refraining from plotting first. Whether his insistence on a noble method even when cornered will lead him to victory or defeat is yet to be known.

However, there is a basis for the prince’s insistence on such a strategy. Some are afraid that the queen, who appeared like a comet, might suddenly do something crazy, but in fact, it was a matter of course that those with dangerous ambitions would try to avoid attracting great attention. That is why the prince could reassure his colleagues with even more confidence. Because he believed that, by common sense, the queen would not rashly commit any mad acts.

But embarrassingly, not long after the establishment of the Holy Tribunal, an incident occurred that completely overturned the prince’s common sense and left Zizlon dumbfounded.

A few weeks after the Holy Tribunal was first established in the frontier, some absurd news was delivered to the central government: the Holy Tribunal established by the queen had imprisoned an envoy dispatched from a vassal state for several days on the grounds that his identity was uncertain.

When the prince and his faction first heard the news, they were dumbfounded but also happy at the same time. This was because they had been eagerly looking for an excuse to have the tribunal withdrawn. So, based on that incident, they made thorough preparations to prove the evils of the tribunal and had an audience with the king.

However, on that day, the king was nowhere to be seen in the audience chamber, and instead, the queen who appeared silenced the nobles with a single unexpected answer.

“This is a confidential matter, but that decision was a royal command.”

At the words of the queen, who answered haughtily with her long neck held high, all the opposing nobles stopped talking.

Imprisoning a foreign envoy was a royal command. The queen’s answer was truly outrageous, and the nobles, who had not expected such a response at all, were gripped by bewilderment and at a loss for words. They had thought this absurd incident was something done by some ignorant investigator in the rural frontier who didn’t know any better, and their preparations had been made accordingly.

What they had intended was to blow this ‘mistake’ out of proportion to make it seem serious. And ultimately, they hoped to turn it into the queen’s mistake for selecting such an incompetent investigator, and expected at least the withdrawal of the tribunal or the revocation of its judicial power, and if possible, to even hold the queen accountable.

There was also a reason they had not even imagined the royal family was behind this incident. The queen’s conspiracy they had anticipated was to fill her own selfish desires, such as using facilities like the tribunal to disadvantage the noble factions that opposed her or to benefit her supporters.