Celise picked up her delicate lace bra from the polished mahogany table, the black fabric a stark contrast to her skin. She held it out to Nova without a word, then turned, presenting her bare back to him, the smooth line of her spine a silent invitation.
Getting the unspoken order, Nova rose from the chaise lounge. He stepped behind her, his body radiating a heat that seeped into her skin. Before fastening the bra, his hands came around to cup her breasts, his palms warm against her cool flesh.
He squeezed them to his heart's content, his fingers kneading the soft mounds, thumbs brushing over the sensitive nipples, which pebbled instantly under his touch. He took his time, a possessive, claiming gesture that made Celise's breath hitch. Only then did he slide the bra straps up her arms and deftly hook the clasp, his knuckles brushing against her back.
Just as Celise made a move to step away and pull up her dress, his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His chest was a solid wall of muscle against her back, and she could feel the steady, powerful thrum of his heartbeat.
He leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear, his voice a low, intimate rumble that seemed to bypass her ears and speak directly to her soul. "Celise," he murmured, his breath warm on her skin. "Just because I'm going to marry, get a main wife and concubines, doesn't mean a thing. Your place in my heart would always be ahead of them. All of them. So how about giving me a baby? A proof of our love. I want to breed you."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Celise's eyes widened, the world tilting on its axis. A baby? With Nova? The thought was so immense, so forbidden and wonderful, that her mind couldn't process it. A furious blush bloomed across her chest and crept up her neck, burning her cheeks a deep, crimson red. She stammered, her voice a fragile, breathless thing. "N-Nova, what are you saying? I... I'm not jealous of you marrying other women. I'm steady, I would be happy that—"
She was cut off as Nova pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of her neck, right over her frantic pulse. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but of profound affection, and it disarmed her completely. "I don't want you to just be a secretary to me," he continued, his tone gentle yet unyielding. "That title would make the other girls look down on you, even if they have the decency not to say it aloud. You are more than that. You are my anchor. So I want you to have my baby. I want the world to know you are mine in a way no title can convey."
Celise's hands instinctively went to her stomach, as if she could already feel a life growing there. "But I am a wido—" she began, the old title tasting like ash on her tongue, a reminder of a past she thought she had buried.
Once again, she was interrupted, but this time his voice was a command, an absolute decree that left no room for doubt. "Marry me then. In fact, tomorrow we are going to get married."
The world didn't just stop; it shattered. The air rushed from Celise's lungs, leaving her dizzy and breathless. Her heart hammered against her ribs with such violence she was certain Nova could feel it against his own chest.
She wrenched herself from his embrace, spinning around to face him, her eyes wide with utter disbelief, shock, and a terrifying, brilliant spark of hope. Her hands flew to her mouth, trembling violently.
"M-marry you?" she choked out, the words a high-pitched, frantic squeak. "Tomorrow? Nova, you can't be serious! This is insane! We can't just... tomorrow? What about the princess? What about the contracts, the politics, the entire business empire you're building? This isn't just some decision you can make over breakfast!"
Her words tumbled out in a chaotic rush, a whirlwind of panic and a fragile, desperate joy she was terrified to let herself feel. Her eyes searched his, scanning his face for any hint of a joke, any sign of the overwhelming lust from moments before clouding his judgment.
But all she found was a burning, unwavering sincerity in the depths of his eyes that stole the very air from her lungs and left her trembling in his wake.
Nova smiled softly at her, a rare, genuine expression that softened the hard edges of his face. He knew he was a massive scumbag, a creature of depraved appetites and boundless ambition. He didn't delude himself about his own nature. But as he'd told her, he was capable of love, and Celise was one of the few who held that piece of his black heart.
Her loyalty to him wasn't just a given; it was a force of nature. Aside from doting on their children, she dedicated every waking moment to ensuring his business empire and their Ashbourne family ascended to the very peak of the Clover Kingdom. She was his sharpest weapon and his staunchest defender.
Marrying her wasn't a political move or a whim; it was perfectly natural, his greatest desire. He wanted to give her a real status, not the title of a favored subordinate, but that of his equal, his partner in life.
So, Nova pulled Celise closer, the gesture gentle yet firm, and brushed a light, lingering kiss against her lips. "Celise," he said, his voice low and serious, leaving no room for argument, "I am going to marry you tomorrow. That's final. No more questions." He paused, a flicker of something else in his eyes. "Besides, my clone is on his way back. He's bringing my partner for our final duel."
Celise's lips parted to speak, a thousand questions and emotions warring in her expression. But she saw it then—the unwavering love and absolute firmness in his gaze. This wasn't a negotiation; it was a declaration. She lowered her head, a wave of heat washing over her cheeks, and mumbled, her voice thick with emotion, "Okay. I will marry you. I will become Celise Ashbourne tomorrow."
Nova's smile widened, a brilliant, triumphant thing. He pulled her into a tight hug, and Celise hugged him back, her arms wrapping around his neck as her eyes misted over, the dam of her composure finally breaking. After a long moment, Nova pulled back. His gaze dropped to the black dress still bunched around her waist.
Instead of snapping his fingers or using his wish-granting magic as he normally would, he reached down and grabbed the fabric. He pulled it up slowly, his knuckles brushing against her skin, helping her slide her arms back into the sleeves.
He adjusted the bodice, his touch careful and deliberate. He did it all physically, wanting her to feel the texture of his love, the solid, undeniable reality of his desire to make her his wife in every way possible.
For a while, Nova and Celise remained locked in their shared gaze, the world outside their embrace ceasing to exist. The air between them was thick with unspoken promises, a profound sense of peace settling over the room in the aftermath of their frantic coupling.
This rare, loving moment was shattered with the sudden, violent displacement of air. A swirling vortex of emerald and silver energy ripped open in the center of the room, its edges crackling with raw power. Celise instinctively took a half-step back, her hand flying to her grimoire, her body tensing for a fight.
Three figures stepped out of the portal as it collapsed in on itself with a soft *whoosh*. The first was a perfect mirror of Nova, dressed in dark, practical travelling clothes.
Beside him stood a young man with a strikingly familiar lightning-bolt scar on his forehead and messy black hair. He was handsome, with intense green eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.
The third was a young woman with bushy brown hair and sharp, intelligent brown eyes that held a hint of wary curiosity. She was looking at Celise with a curious analytical gaze, her posture defensive yet ready.