GWTB Ch 1

1. Winter Blooded

Chapter 1

“Take it off.”

A firm voice echoed through the silent mansion. Despite the sharp tone laced with strong command, the response that followed was mocking. 

“There’s no need for this. I told you I wasn’t brought here for something like this.”

And to make it worse, he kept spewing irritating nonsense.

“I thought at least my loyalty wouldn’t be questioned. Seems I haven’t earned your trust after all. I willingly chose to be Your Majesty’s most faithful hound, only to be treated so disloyally.”

I clenched my jaw to keep from grinding my teeth and forced myself to hold back my temper as I replied.

“Good. I’m not doing this to win your favor either, so hurry up and take it off.”

I growled, barely suppressing the urge to grab him by the collar and tell him to stop spouting nonsense and get to the point. Even so, the man before me twisted his lips in a smirk, not hiding his amusement in the slightest.

“Then you should give a proper order. Not just ‘take it off’—you should say, ‘His Majesty is bestowing favor upon his consort, so prepare to attend him tonight.’”

It was blatant, taunting mockery. His long, fox-like blue eyes curved in a smile as he looked at me. Even after watching him for years, I still couldn’t read those eyes.

Sometimes they seemed desperate, sometimes teasing. And at other times, they looked as if I were the only person in this world he could rely on. I wanted to ask what his real intentions were—but no matter how many times I asked, I never got a proper answer.

Regardless, he must have a clear reason for kidnapping the liege he’d sworn loyalty to for over a decade and bringing him to a place like this. If what he wanted was nothing more than some ridiculous honeymoon-like prank, then maybe I could play along to find a way out of here.

“……”

When I closed my mouth and glared at him as if I didn’t want to speak anymore, he curled his lips again before finally beginning to undress. His body, built with firm muscle, had grown far more than I remembered.

His pale skin, untouched by the sun, seemed a trait unique to northerners—white as snow, as if carved from ice or ivory. And across that dazzlingly fair flesh were large scars, like stains. Every one of them, wounds he had received on the battlefield where I had pushed him to go.

Amid the smaller, rough marks, there were a few deep ones that must have brought him close to death. A couple of them I couldn’t even remember—my mouth tasted bitter. The fact that he had suffered life-threatening injuries without the knowledge of the very person who claimed to be his guardian pierced my heart like a blade.

If something in his head had snapped to cause this madness, then that too was my responsibility. I had raised him in a way that made it impossible for him to live like a normal human being. I had used him like a pawn, turning him into a weapon to kill at my command.

I bit my lip hard and asked,

“What do you want me to do?”

When I asked the man, now fully naked, he gazed at me quietly and replied.

“Your Majesty needn’t do anything. It’s my role to bring Your Majesty pleasure.”

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he pointed to his lower half, now standing firm with arousal. It made my skin crawl. Why? Did he want revenge for all the times I’d treated him like a dog?

A mix of confusion and betrayal ran through me as he slowly reached for me. His pale, solid fingers began to undo the buttons on my clothes, and even though he was simply undressing me as if serving me, my face flushed red.

It was strange. I still couldn’t believe I was doing this with the boy I’d thought would remain a child forever. I turned my head away, unwilling to meet his gaze, but he gently cupped my chin and turned my face back toward him.

“Don’t look away. You should clearly see who’s serving Your Majesty.”

Serving… Who the hell taught him to say things like that? The word was embarrassingly absurd, yet as he diligently moved his hands, I soon found myself stripped bare. It wasn’t the first time we’d seen each other naked, yet my face continued to burn.

The boy who once only reached my waist had grown massive. Still hard, he slowly pushed me down onto the bed. His hand, which gently supported my back, tickled and burned at the same time. I wanted to run away.

“……”

I shut my mouth again and turned away, and this time, he didn’t force me to meet his gaze. Instead, he lightly gripped the back of my knee and spread the legs I’d been keeping tightly closed.

“Ah—”

Startled, I sucked in a sharp breath, and he let out a soft laugh.

“Your reaction makes it seem like I’m forcing myself on some clueless child.”

But I couldn’t help it. Having someone touch such sensitive, private places—parts that no one else ever saw—was an experience far too unfamiliar.

“……”

I said nothing and avoided his gaze, and he casually began to massage the inside of my thigh. I shouldn’t respond. I mustn’t get aroused. I tried with everything I had to resist, but the more I did, the more his fingers made my lower stomach tighten on their own.

Watching me like a snake observing its prey, he spoke again.

“Come to think of it, I heard there are rumors that Your Majesty is incapable as a man. I suppose it makes sense. The late king had already fathered nine princes and princesses by your age, but Your Majesty hasn’t taken a single mistress or concubine.”

He smirked faintly and added,

“Shall I confirm it today? Whether Your Majesty’s noble manhood is in working condition or not.”

“Ah…!”

It had been a long time since I’d even done it alone. The sudden touch of another on such a sensitive spot was overwhelming. This can’t happen. I can’t react the way he wants me to.

I clenched the sheets tightly and tried to hold on, but before I knew it, his hand left my thigh and began to stroke my shaft, thick with calluses and old scars. He slowly pulled the skin back and forth, and my toes curled. I hadn’t grown used to this kind of pleasure, so like a boy learning to masturbate for the first time, I heated up too easily.

“Ugh…”

I tried to resist, but his touch only grew rougher. He gripped it tightly, then released, slowly rubbing under the exposed head, pressing down with his thumb. As he rubbed the sensitive, tender tip as if digging into it, my erection quickly stood upright. Seeing me fully aroused, he snorted again.

“You’re in good health. At least I won’t have any trouble pleasing Your Majesty.”

And then came another shock that made me gasp again.

“Wa—wait…!”

His thumb, slick with precum from my slit, trailed down past my perineum and touched the tightly closed, wrinkled entrance.

“Not there—ugh…”

Ignoring my reaction, he traced the rim. Then, as he gently rubbed the area, he asked,

“If you don’t want me to use this, should I let you take me instead?”

He smiled again, eyes curving slyly.

“That’s fine too. But since Your Majesty is so delicate, I’m not sure you could handle it.”

I bit my lip again. That was worse. It made me sick just thinking about it. If that happened, it would really mean I brought him here for that purpose, and I wouldn’t be able to endure it.

I silently covered my face with my arms and shook my head. He must’ve taken that as consent because he began to press his thumb into the entrance again.

Then—click—I heard the sound of a bottle opening. I didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, but a fragrant, herbal scent wafted through the air. Soon, slick fingers were gliding over the wrinkled entrance.

Moments later—shlup—a finger pushed in, spreading the tight rim. Goosebumps rose all over my body.

“Ah, hh…”

The long finger slipped in up to the webbing, then slowly began feeling along the inner walls. When it pressed firmly against a certain bump inside—

“Ugh…!”

“Must be here. Glad I found it easily. Or maybe Your Majesty was simply born with a body made for this?”

His gaze was shameless, watching for every little reaction. But at the same time—it was filled with affection. Eyes that saw only me, that existed only to protect me.

I truly believed it was sincere. There were even moments when I felt a twisted pride. Your unwavering loyalty proves I wasn’t just using you—that I, too, became someone meaningful to you. I rationalized it like that.

Even as I pushed you—a child who didn’t yet understand sin, or the indelible stain of violence—onto the battlefield.

Ha. So this is my punishment. I should never have let myself care. My downfall was failing to distinguish whether you were a pawn to be discarded or a sworn brother, a son in all but blood.

Now I understand why, despite everything, I can’t bring myself to kick you away. As if sensing my turmoil, he sat up and gently cupped my cheek, whispering—

“Don’t blame yourself, Your Majesty. Your only mistake was not casting me out the day you learned the ‘brat’ you saved was a boy.”

That’s why I grew into a dog obsessed with you.

He didn’t let me process the words before his scorching lips sealed over mine. Revulsion had no time to take root—his fingers were already probing me again.

Ah— My thighs instinctively tried to clamp shut, but his hands pried them apart faster. Rough fingers breached me, stretching and twisting inside until four digits forced their way in.

No more. I can’t stretch further. I shoved at his shoulders, but he only murmured against my ear—

“Endure a little longer. You’ll need to adjust for what comes next.”

Then he deliberately scraped that firm spot inside, making me harden against my will.

“Ah—! Ngh… Ah…!”

Pleasure-soaked moans spilled through my clenched teeth. Just as suddenly, his fingers withdrew, replaced by the chill of oil poured over my entrance. The sensation of it trickling inside was obscene—as was the excess dripping down my thighs.

When I shuddered, he gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze as he smiled.

“I love you, Your Majesty. I love you.”

The whispered words were agony. I have to return. I don’t want to spend another second in this brutal world. But if you say that, how can I leave you behind without a second thought? I could no longer ignore the root of all this anguish.

My body was meant to return to reality the moment the clear conditions were met—no attachments, no regrets. Yet I let myself care. I made you precious. This pain is mine to bear, born from my failures. The torment of betraying you with my own hands is my burden alone.

Guilt paralyzed me. Instead of pushing him away, I slid my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. His embrace—the suffocating tenderness, the devotion searing through every point of contact—felt like torture.