Special Forces Princess: This Concubine is Peerless Under Heaven
Chapter 3: Domineeringly Occupying His Bed?!
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Tyrannically occupying his bed?!
All that remained in the private room was a male corpse, its back coated in honey, a single red rose blooming at its throat.
That red rose was still tender and fresh.
Clearly, it had only just left the branch.
Nestled among the stamens was a single, crystalline bead of night dew.
After a long while, the door to the private room was gently pushed open.
A waiter entering with a meal on a gilt tray let his gaze sweep over that still-vibrant rose. Shocked, he dropped the platter.
It took a good moment for the waiter to recover his senses, whereupon he let out a ghostly howl.
"Disaster! Baron Molin has been assassinated..."
The voice, shrill and hoarse from excessive terror, instantly pierced the bewitchingly vibrant spring night of Windvoice City.
As the waiter abandoned the tray and scrambled toward the door screaming for help.
In the northwest corner of Windvoice City, within a quiet, elegant courtyard.
The bed of the courtyard's master, Zichen, who was just preparing to rest, had been tyrannically occupied by an uninvited guest.
At this moment, the master of that spacious, comfortable bed.
Was frowning deeply at the blonde girl on it, clad only in a sheer gauze dress, still sunk in a deep stupor.
"How could you bring her here? Don't forget, ours is merely a cooperative relationship. I am not your subordinate!"
Slanting purple-black brows that flew toward his temples, obsidian-black eyes like dots of lacquer, a refined and dust-free countenance.
Though he was frowning and complaining, not a shred of elegance was diminished from Zichen's face.
If a person of ordinary resolve saw Zichen at this moment, they would likely spontaneously feel regret and guilt.
"Do you mean I should have killed her, or left her to those beasts?!"
The "culprit" who had brought the little prostitute back.
Was currently sitting leisurely at the table in the room, drinking the bedtime black tea Zichen had just brewed.
Not the slightest awareness of having done something wrong.