Levi gently eased me onto the mattress beside him, the physical connection of our bodies slowly separating. He rose briefly, the soft rustle of the sheets the only sound, to dispose of the used condom in the nearby bin. Then, he returned to the bed, settling beside me.

He turned his head, his gaze intense yet… softer than usual, as he observed me. "Raphael," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, "it was beautiful to watch, truly."

A warmth bloomed in my chest at Levi's unexpected words, a sensation that mirrored the stirring of renewed desire in my loins. His gaze, softer than I was accustomed to, held a captivating intensity. "Beautiful," he had said. The praise, coming from him, was potent.

Yet, even as my body responded with a familiar eagerness, a cold knot of apprehension tightened in my stomach. This was Levi. Tenderness, unguarded appreciation – these were not his usual tools.

"Levi, what are you doing?" I mumbled, the question tinged with a suspicion that even the lingering warmth of his praise couldn't entirely dispel.

He continued to gaze at me, his expression still holding that unusual softness, but now with a hint of something else – perhaps amusement, or perhaps something more calculating. "Doing, Raphael?" he echoed, his voice a low murmur. He reached out a hand, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "Simply observing," he continued, his thumb lightly stroking my cheek. "Admiring the afterglow. It suits you."

"Observing what, exactly?" I pressed, the suspicion in my voice more pronounced this time. "And why the sudden… admiration?"

"Observing the way the intensity becomes you, Raphael," Levi murmured, his thumb continuing its slow, deliberate stroke along my cheek. "The flush on your skin, the slight tremor in your lips… it's a testament to the depths we reached."

His gaze seemed to delve into me, as if he were cataloging every subtle nuance of my state. "And admiration?" A faint smile touched his lips. "Is it so surprising that I might appreciate the artistry of our encounters? The way you surrender, the fire that ignites within you… it is all quite captivating."

Ah. The scheming bastard. It clicked into place. This uncharacteristic tenderness, the poetic observations – it wasn't genuine vulnerability. It was calculated.

He was stoking the embers, knowing full well how my body responded to his attention, to his praise. He was laying the groundwork for another round, using carefully chosen words as foreplay.

A wry smile touched my lips, a mirror of the one he often wore. Clever, Levi. Always clever. He underestimated, however, my growing understanding of his tactics.

"You know I kinda got used to your schemes, right?" I said, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "You could just say it if you want to go for another round."

Levi offered a nonchalant shrug, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh," he drawled, his gaze still locked on mine, "the illusion of free choice, dear. It often sweetens the proposition."

How can he plot this, mere minutes after sex? How? Praises, gentle touches… A never-ending game of control and manipulation.

"Why don't you just say you want me, too? Why not the admitting it outright?" I challenged, my voice laced with a weariness. Couldn't he ever just be… direct?

"Oh? I was simply trying to be accommodating to your tastes, pulla. I know you enjoy getting praised, so I did. Why seek malicious intent where there is only consideration?"

Consideration? That was a rich one, coming from him. It wasn't consideration; it was calculated charm, a well-honed tool in his arsenal.

"Because, Levi," I said, my gaze unwavering, "with you, there's always intent. There's always a layer beneath the surface. You don't simply offer praise without expecting something in return."

"And if I do desire a repetition of our recent… activities, is that truly so nefarious?" Levi countered, his voice smooth and unruffled, his gaze never leaving mine. "We both found pleasure, did we not? Consider it… a shared inclination, then."

He offered a disarming smile, but there was a glint of something calculating beneath the surface. It was a subtle deflection, a way of sidestepping the accusation of pure manipulation.

"Shared inclination that conveniently aligns with your desires," I pointed out, my skepticism unwavering. "You orchestrate, Levi. You always do."

"Why is it wrong of me to praise my partner, Raphael?" Levi countered, his tone shifting slightly, adopting a wounded air. His gaze, however, still held that calculating glint, betraying the feigned hurt. "Is appreciation now a crime? I simply voiced what I observed, the undeniable beauty of your… release. If that happens to coincide with a desire for further intimacy, is that truly so manipulative?"

He reached out again, his fingers trailing lightly down my arm, a seemingly innocent caress that nonetheless sent a shiver of awareness through me. "Perhaps," he continued, his voice dropping to a softer register, "you are simply projecting your own awareness of your desirability onto my innocent compliments."

It was a classic Levi maneuver – turning the accusation back on me, painting himself as the innocent admirer and me as the cynical one.

"Innocent compliments that conveniently pave the way for another encounter," I retorted, my skepticism unmoved. "Don't play coy with me, Levi. We both know how this works."

"And what is it that you believe 'how this works' entails, Raphael?" Levi asked, his feigned innocence finally dissolving, replaced by a clinical curiosity. His fingers stilled on my arm. "Enlighten me on your astute understanding of my motivations."

"It entails you using praise and affection as a means to an end," I stated, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "That end being another opportunity for physical intimacy, orchestrated on your terms, where you maintain control."

A faint smile played on Levi's lips, a flicker of something that might have been genuine amusement, or perhaps just a confirmation that I had indeed deciphered his strategy. "And is that so inherently… undesirable, Raphael?" he countered, his voice low and persuasive. "Especially when the outcome is mutually pleasurable?"

"It is not about the outcome, Levi," I clarified, my voice firm. "It's about the 'free choice' you alluded to earlier. I would feel shitty, if I realized your praise was just a calculated tactic employed before the act.”

The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Levi's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something that might have been understanding crossing his features. "So, the transparency is paramount?" he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle on my cheek. "The acknowledgment of… intent? So dear, let me ask, if I was any other person, would the gears of that beautiful head of yours would be turning? Or would you simply say let’s keep going? Hm?”

"Ah, the hypothetical," I murmured, meeting his gaze. "If you were 'any other person,' Levi, the context would be entirely different, wouldn't it? The history, the dynamic, the… expectation. With anyone else, a genuine compliment might simply be that – a genuine compliment, perhaps even a prelude to a straightforward invitation."

I paused, considering his question. "Perhaps, in a different scenario, I might simply agree to continue. But you are not 'any other person,' Levi. You are you. And with you, there is always a dance."

My fingers, which had been resting on his chest, now mirrored his touch, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "So, to answer your question… with you, the gears always turn. It's part of the fascinating, frustrating, and undeniably alluring charm of you.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Levi's chest, a sound that held a note of genuine amusement, perhaps even a touch of something akin to… fondness? "Alluring charm, you say, Raphael?" he murmured, his gaze intensifying, his thumb now gently stroking my cheek in return. "Even when that charm involves a degree of… strategic maneuvering?"

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my ear. "Perhaps that very awareness, that constant turning of your astute mind, is part of your allure, pulla. You are not easily swayed, easily fooled."

"So," he continued, his lips a breath away from mine, "now that the strategic maneuvering has been… acknowledged… shall we dispense with the pretense and simply indulge in the 'mutually pleasurable outcome' we both seem to desire?"

"Yeah," I agreed, a soft smile playing on my lips as his breath ghosted over mine. The game, as exhausting as it could be, was undeniably a part of our dynamic. But a small rebellion flickered within me. "Instead of your usual power dance or exquisite torment, I want actual praises this time, Levi. Sincere ones."

"Oh, manipulation does not always mean lying, dear," he murmured, his voice a low caress. "When I said even the Almighty would find no fault in our art, or when I told you that nobody even dares to hold a candle to your light… those were not lies, pulla."

His thumb traced the curve of my lips, a tender gesture that felt surprisingly sincere. "Those were simply… acknowledgments of undeniable truths."

Damn his poetic mouth.

Levi’s gaze dropped from my eyes, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as his attention settled on my boner. "Ah, pulla," he murmured, his voice regaining a touch of its usual playful dominance. "Perhaps my words were not entirely… selfless. But your body seems to appreciate them nonetheless, doesn't it?"

He reached out a hand, his fingers lightly brushing against the tip. "Actions, as they say, speak louder than words. And your body is certainly singing my praises right now."

He had a point. My body was reacting to his attention, regardless of the potential underlying motives.

Levi’s touch sent a jolt of pure sensation through me, the casual intimacy of it both thrilling and slightly unnerving. His fingers ghosted over the sensitive tip of my erection, eliciting an involuntary gasp.

"Indeed," he murmured, his gaze locked on mine, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Your body understands the language of desire, even if your mind remains… skeptical."

His hand settled more firmly, the gentle pressure instantly igniting a fire low in my belly. He began a slow, deliberate stroke, his thumb tracing the underside of my shaft, sending shivers of pleasure radiating outwards.

"Such eagerness," he purred, his voice a low caress. "Such a beautiful response to my touch. You are a canvas of pure sensation, Raphael, so exquisitely attuned."

His praise, even delivered with this blatant manipulation, still held a seductive power.

"And your skin," he continued, his voice a husky whisper, his strokes becoming slightly firmer, "the way it flushes, the delicate tracery of veins… it is art, pure and simple."

My breath hitched, the pleasure intensifying with each deliberate movement of his hand. His strokes became more insistent, the rhythm mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. Each slide of his hand sent waves of pleasure crashing through me, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in my groin.

"The curve of your neck," he murmured, his voice thick with a burgeoning hunger, his eyes tracing the line from my jaw down to my chest. "So elegant. And the way your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath… it is a symphony of desire, played just for me."

My head fell back against the pillows, my eyes half-closed as I surrendered to the overwhelming sensations.

"You are so responsive, Raphael," he continued, his voice a low growl, his fingers now teasing the sensitive underside. "Every touch, every sigh… a testament to the sensitivity of your body. You are a masterpiece, crafted for pleasure."

My breath hitched, a low moan escaping my lips as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level. The edge was fast approaching, the promise of release shimmering just beyond my grasp.

Levi’s fingers were now working with a focused urgency, expertly guiding me closer to the precipice. My breath hitched, ragged gasps escaping my lips as the world began to spin.

"Yes, Raphael," he urged, his voice a low, triumphant murmur. "Embrace the pleasure. You are so close…”

The tension coiled tighter and tighter, a burning knot in my groin threatening to explode. My body trembled uncontrollably, every nerve ending screaming for release. And then, the dam finally broke.

A guttural cry tore from my throat as wave of intense pleasure washed over me. My muscles clenched, my back arching off the bed as the hot, thick spurts of my release pulsed onto Levi's hand.

Even as the tremors of my climax subsided, Levi's ministrations continued, his hand still stroking me gently, catching the last lingering drops of my cum. His gaze remained locked on mine, filled with a possessive intensity.

"Magnificent," he murmured, his voice thick with a satisfied hunger.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "You surrender so beautifully, Raphael. It is a privilege to witness it."

My body, still throbbing with the aftershocks of release, responded to his words with a renewed stirring of desire.

"Levi…" I gasped, my breath still ragged, my body still humming with the aftershocks of my release. "You… your damn poetic mouth… how are you so good at this?"

"You can blame my noble education for my 'poetic' mouth, pulla," Levi murmured, a hint of amusement in his tone. His hand finally stilled its gentle ministrations, though his gaze remained fixed on me, a calculating glint returning to his eyes.

"And my little experiment from the last few nights has reached its conclusion, Raphael," he continued, a note of clinical observation entering his voice. "That was, indeed, the swiftest of your releases."

"You keep track of that? Really?" I asked, a wave of disbelief and a touch of indignation washing over me.

"Of course, Raphael," Levi replied, his tone matter-of-fact, as if tracking the nuances of my orgasms was the most natural thing in the world. "It is all for accommodating you, Pulla. Out of all the things, you enjoy praise above all else.”

"So your poetic mouth is for what, to make me cum faster?"

Levi sighed softly, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I can see the judgment in your eyes again, Raphael. Everyone, including you, thrives on understanding their partner's needs and wants. I knew you enjoyed the praise; I merely confirmed that you also, quite clearly, have a… pronounced response to it."

He paused, his gaze softening slightly. "Think of it as… attentiveness, pulla. Understanding what ignites your fire, what pushes you over the edge. Is that truly so offensive?"

He had a point, a frustratingly logical one. Wasn't understanding and catering to a partner's desires a good thing? But the clinical way he framed it… It felt cold.

"So, it wasn't about the beauty of the words themselves, or the genuine sentiment?" I pressed, needing to understand the line between his calculated charm and any potential sincerity.

"Raphael," he said, his voice dropping to a low, earnest tone. "I do find it baffling that you would think for even a second that I am not honest with you, in my own way. Ask yourself this, then: why would I ever lie to you about something so… pleasurable for us both?"

He reached out, his hand covering mine on the bed. "What would be the purpose? To what end would such a falsehood serve? The pleasure is real, your reactions are genuine, and my appreciation, in its own way, is also sincere. I value your responses, Raphael. Why fabricate a response when the genuine one is so… compelling?"

"Look, I kinda understand that, Levi," I conceded, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. His earnestness felt genuine, even if his way of expressing it was… uniquely his. "And I also understand you are more honest with me, in your own way, when I compare your interactions with other people. I saw the smile you put on at galas and whatnot. It is a different kind of smile, a practiced one, a performance."

I turned to face him more fully, my gaze searching his. "But… your brutal honesty, while I appreciate it, sometimes makes you feel… distant and, yes, cold. Like I'm a fascinating specimen under a microscope rather than… a partner."

"I understand that desire, Raphael," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand. "The honest, brutal truth, as you put it, is that you may never entirely shake that feeling of 'being under a microscope' with me. It is a part of my nature, a lens through which I often view the world, and those within it."

This text was taken from NovelBin. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"In moments like these, Raphael," he continued, his gaze locking with mine, "the choice belongs solely to you. Your value, your worth… those are shaped by your own feelings, your own internal compass, not by what I, or anyone else, can give back to you. The decision of whether to accept this, this… dynamic between us, this question of what you need… that is determined by you, and you only."

"Thanks for saying that, Levi," I murmured, the weight of his words settling upon me. There was a strange comfort in his honesty, even if it wasn't the reassurance I might have instinctively craved. He wasn't trying to placate me or pretend to be someone he wasn't.

A sigh escaped my lips. "It's just… frustrating."

Frustrating because I was drawn to him, undeniably so. Frustrating because our encounters held a unique intensity that I found nowhere else. Frustrating because beneath the detached exterior, I sometimes glimpsed a flicker of something more, a connection that felt almost… tender.

"It's frustrating because…" I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper, the raw truth finally escaping. "Because you will never love me, Levi. Not in the way I… perhaps foolishly… might desire. And because of that, I will never be ultimately sure of the sincerity behind your words, your touches, even the pleasure we share."

"Yes, Raphael," he affirmed, his gaze unwavering. "It boils down to our earlier conversation, doesn't it? I will not be able to reciprocate romantic feelings in the way a human being typically does, and you, being human, will likely continue to seek that connection, that assurance."

"It is an inherent incompatibility in that specific realm," he continued, his voice calm and measured. "One that no amount of shared pleasure or intellectual sparring can ultimately bridge. The question, as I posed before, remains with you, Raphael. Can you find value and satisfaction in what we do share, knowing the limitations of what I can offer emotionally? Or will that unfulfilled desire always cast a shadow over our encounters?"

"I will… try," I murmured, the promise feeling fragile even as it left my lips.

Try to reconcile the intense pleasure and intellectual stimulation with the undeniable lack of reciprocal romantic love. Try to accept his limitations, to find satisfaction in the moments we shared without constantly yearning for something more. Try to quiet the human part of me that craved a deeper connection, a love that mirrored the intensity of our physical encounters.

The path ahead felt uncertain, fraught with the potential for both profound connection and inevitable heartache.

"This is, again, not a judgment, Raphael. A question, born of… a desire to understand, perhaps even to spare you unnecessary pain. Why? Why choose a path that seems inherently fraught with the potential for heartbreak, suffering, and possibly loneliness?"

His gaze held a genuine curiosity.

Why, indeed? Why cling to a connection that was fundamentally asymmetrical in its emotional capacity?

"Because," I began, my voice barely a whisper, the answer forming slowly in my mind, "because even a limited connection with you… is still more compelling than the absence of it entirely. Because the moments of… something that feels close to connection, however fleeting, are worth the risk of the inevitable heartache."

"Why?" he pressed again, his gaze intense, searching mine as if trying to decipher an illogical equation.

"It's the human will, Levi," I replied, the words carrying a quiet conviction. "The stubborn, irrational part of us that often defies logic and chooses hope over certainty, connection over isolation, even when the odds are stacked against us. It's the inherent desire to reach for something more, even if that reaching might lead to pain."

I looked at him, my heart aching with a bittersweet mix of longing and acceptance. "Perhaps it's foolish. Perhaps it's a flaw in our design. But it's also what makes us… us. It's why we love, even when we know it might end. It's why we connect, even when we know there are barriers. It's why I choose this, even knowing the potential cost."

“The human error, you say?” he echoed.

“Yeah, I guess… The human error of longing for connection, acceptance, love even when you do not receive it back. Let me say something else, above everything, there is one undeniable truth, yeah? One day, we will all die. Regardless of who or what we are. So, essentially, accepting someone in your life is also accepting one day, you may walk in world without them. So why do we do that? You do it for ‘benefit’ as you put it, I do it for connection.”

"So," he finally murmured, his voice low and contemplative, "you accept the inherent risk of loss, the eventual severing of that connection, for the sake of the connection itself. You embrace the transient nature of existence, the finite span of our interactions, for the value you find in them while they last. Perhaps our motivations are not so dissimilar after all. We both seek something in this fleeting existence, even if the nature of that seeking differs."

A wry smile touched my lips, the tension in the room easing ever so slightly. "Yeah," I echoed softly. "You are still a vengeful, tyrannical shadow, Levi. That much hasn't changed. But I know you are trying your best to hide it lately," I added, a hint of something akin to… hope? Or perhaps just a weary acceptance of his complexities.

A slow nod accompanied Levi’s words. "I vowed by it, Raphael," he murmured, the weight of that promise evident in his tone. "But that vow does not negate the inherent urges that reside within me. The desire to burn, to crush, to destroy… whatever verb you can conjure, it still simmers beneath the surface."

He looked away for a moment, his gaze distant, as if acknowledging a constant battle within himself. "It is a… discipline," he continued, turning back to me, his eyes holding a weary intensity. "A conscious effort to temper those impulses, to channel them in… less destructive ways, at least where you are concerned."

“So, what may happen if you know… The dam breaks?”

"In short, a catastrophe that will be written in the history of Ascaria," Levi replied, a dismissive shrug accompanying. "Significant collateral damage. A rapid and irreversible shift in the established order."

His bluntness was chilling. It was as if he were discussing a geological event, a force of nature beyond his control, rather than a potential unleashing of his own power.

"And where," I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his words settling heavily in my chest, "would I be in this… historical catastrophe?"

"Your suspicion and concern for your safety is noted, Raphael," Levi said, a hint of reassurance entering his voice. "Do not be unduly concerned. Your safety and well-being remain, as always, paramount to me."

He paused, a flicker of his characteristic ruthlessness returning to his eyes. "I ended ancient bloodlines with words and some carefully placed teas, pulla. The idea is this: I can burn every single one of those self-entitled nobles to ash. Non-negotiable."

A chilling smile touched his lips. "But I chose not to. It wouldn't be nearly as… satisfying as watching the dawning horror on their faces when they finally realize how utterly insignificant they are. And honestly?" He shrugged. "It would be rather… boring."

“You scared the shit out of me again but there is something in my mind that’s scratching me. Why did you render the king sterile, and how… exactly did you do it?”

A flicker of something akin to amusement danced in Levi's eyes at my admission of fear. "Fear is a healthy response to power, Raphael. It keeps one… attentive."

He then leaned back against the headboard, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "The rendering of King sterile was… a necessary measure. A long-term solution to a persistent problem. His lineage posed a future threat, a potential resurgence of opposition to the new order I envision."

He paused, a hint of pride in his voice. "As for the 'how'… let's just say that my talents extend beyond mere words and well-placed teas, though those certainly played a part. There are subtle drugs, undetectable to conventional means, but ultimately… irreversible."

"It was a gradual process, of course," he continued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "A carefully administered regimen over time. By the time his physicians, whom were issued by me, even suspected an issue, the die was long cast."

The cold efficiency of it was terrifying, yet a morbid curiosity gnawed at me. "And Julia… did she know?"

A sharp glint entered Levi's eyes, a warning that I was treading on sensitive ground. "No, Julia does not know," he stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense. "Raphael, you and I are the only two souls privy to this particular piece of information. Aside from the… specialized physicians who administered the regimen and the carefully selected children I placed within the palace walls to serve as the 'crown prince' and 'princess'."

“Okay… but why do you share this secret with me?”

"Because, Raphael," he purred, his gaze unwavering, "I am… curious. Intrigued by the possibilities that this knowledge presents in your capable hands. What will you do with this information? Will you succumb to fear, paralyzed by the enormity of it, and ultimately submit to that fear, becoming even more… compliant?"

He paused, his gaze flicking over me, assessing my reaction. "Or perhaps… a more audacious path. Would you take this to the King himself, demanding a ransom for a secret that could destabilize the entire nation? The possibilities, pulla, are… deliciously varied."

He shrugged, a casual gesture. "Truly, it is simply curiosity. An experiment of sorts, to gauge the extent of your… resourcefulness. And besides," he added, a hint of his old arrogance returning, "before you even asked, I always ensure I retain certain… safeguards. Evidence of my endeavors, shall we say."

"Hypothetically speaking," I echoed, a flicker of intrigue warring with the apprehension churning in my gut, "you are saying that you would give me… evidence of your crimes?"

Levi's gaze held mine, unwavering, a hint of a challenge in its depths. "Yes, Raphael," he confirmed.

It was staggering. A gift wrapped in threat, all in the name of curiosity.

"And what," I asked, my mind racing, trying to decipher the layers of his motives, "would be your… safeguard against such a risk?"

A slow, chilling smile spread across Levi's face, his eyes gleaming with an almost fanatical fervor. "Safeguard? Oh, my dearest,” he purred. “Did you truly forget who I am?”

"I am the Saint of Ascaria, Raphael."

"Who," he continued, his voice laced with a dangerous confidence, "do you think they would believe? A beloved saint, the architect of their prosperity, or a… well, a beautiful but ultimately transient figure in my life, bearing tales of conspiracy and regicide?"

The answer was chillingly clear. His "safeguard" wasn't a hidden document or a threat. It was his carefully constructed public persona, his almost untouchable status in the eyes of the nation. He was betting on the unwavering faith of the people, a faith that would likely eclipse any accusation I could level against him.

“I have another question. No playing, the honest truth. How did you find me, and how did you even choose me, you know as your contractual husband.”

"There was an extensive research endeavor, spearheaded by Holden," he began, his gaze steady. "We dedicated months to the task of finding a suitable candidate. Our primary objective was to identify someone undeniably charming. Not in a confrontational or challenging way, but with a comforting, almost ethereal quality. Like you, Raphael, with your… angelic features. The pale blonde hair, the striking ice-blue eyes, the naturally curved lips…"

He paused, his gaze lingering on my face for a moment. "The matter of bloodline was also crucial. I required someone outside the established nobility, someone whose connections would not entangle or threaten my own position. Your status as both a commoner and a foreigner served that purpose admirably."

A hint of a smile touched his lips. "However, our research also unearthed certain… intriguing qualities. Your documented hot temper, your rather short fuse, your inherent defiance. Your open embrace of your sexuality was also a significant factor. It spoke to a certain… authenticity, a refusal to conform."

He then shared a detail I hadn't known. "Then, one day, while I was at my office, I happened to hear one of your films playing on the television in the employee break room. I observed the reactions of my staff. The way you utterly captivated their attention. It was… illuminating."

"That prompted further investigation," he continued. "I contacted your agency, and we conducted more detailed legwork, learning your routines, your habits. And then, of course, we encountered you at the charity gala. The rest, as they say, is history."

He had chosen me not just for what I was, but for who I was.

“We deviated a lot from the contract right, you know all the things happening around us.”

A thoughtful expression crossed Levi's face, his gaze softening as he considered my observation. "Indeed, Raphael," he conceded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We have deviated quite significantly from the precise terms of our initial agreement, haven't we? The landscape of our arrangement has become… considerably more complex than either of us might have initially anticipated, given the… circumstances that have unfolded around us."

He paused, a genuine smile touching his lips. "That deviation, in large part, is you, dear Raphael. Initially, my projections, based on the information we gathered, suggested a… more volatile trajectory. I anticipated a certain… fiery independence, a tendency to chafe against the constraints of our arrangement, perhaps even a degree of rebellious impulsiveness."

He chuckled softly. "Instead, during our first dinner with my mother, a rather… tense affair, you displayed a surprising degree of consideration. Your recollection of my food aversions and your efforts to navigate that social minefield… it was unexpected."

His gaze met mine, a flicker of genuine appreciation in his eyes. "It was in that moment, Raphael, that the realization truly struck me. You were more nuanced than my initial assessment allowed. More perceptive, more… unexpectedly thoughtful. You possessed a depth and a capacity for subtle understanding that transcended the rather limited parameters of my initial expectations."

“Okay about that dinner… Your mother obviously knew about your aversion, and she used it as a weapon. I couldn’t just stay silent to that.”

A slow nod spread across Levi's face, a hint of grudging respect in his eyes. "You are, of course, correct, Raphael," he conceded, a wry smile playing on his lips. "My mother's… subtle orchestrations are rarely accidental. The inclusion of those particular dishes was indeed a deliberate tactic, a veiled attempt to assert her influence, to remind me – and by extension, you – of certain… familial expectations."

His gaze sharpened, meeting mine with a newfound intensity. "Your decision to 'shield' me, as you put it, was… unexpected. It suggested a level of… understanding, or perhaps even a nascent form of… alliance, that my initial projections had not factored in. It was, in its own quiet way, a rather… intriguing deviation from the expected script.”

A slow smile spread across Levi's face, a hint of something that might have been genuine appreciation warming his eyes. "Ah, that reminds me, Raphael," he said, his tone shifting to a more pragmatic note, though the undercurrent of their shared understanding remained. "Your compensation, as stipulated in our… contractual agreement, will be significantly increased."

"Wait…" I interjected, holding up a hand, my voice a little breathless. "Please… just stop talking about the contract for a moment."

The shift in topic, the sudden return to the transactional nature of our relationship, felt like a cold splash of water.

Fuck you, Raphael. This is what happens when you get lulled into a false sense of security, you idiot. Just when you thought… just when you dared to think there might be something more than just the contract, the calculations, the manipulations… he throws it right back in your face.

Idiot. Naive fool. Did you really think his detached curiosity, his clinical observations, somehow signaled a deeper connection? He sees you as a… a valuable asset, nothing more. A well-performing investment that warrants a bonus.

The vulnerability I had allowed myself to show, the tentative hope I had harbored, now felt like a profound weakness, a pathetic yearning for something Levi was incapable of giving.

A doll. That's all I ever was, wasn't it? A beautiful object you acquired, a pretty plaything to adorn your life. And when the doll performs well, it gets a reward. A shiny trinket for its obedience.

My fists clenched tighter beneath the sheets, the fabric bunching in my grip. All that talk of connection, of shared understanding… just a fleeting illusion. A momentary lapse in his detachment. The contract, the transaction – that's the only reality here.

How could I have been so foolish? So desperate for something real that I mistook his intellectual curiosity for genuine interest?

The offer of a higher payment felt like a final, insulting confirmation. So easily quantified. So readily reduced to a monetary value.

A cold resolve began to solidify within me, pushing back against the crushing disappointment. No. I am not just a doll. I am more than this transaction. And I will not be so easily bought and sold.

"Levi," I stated, my voice firm, devoid of the earlier tremor of hurt. "Rip that contract."

My gaze met his, unwavering, the fleeting hope of a deeper connection now replaced by a steely determination.

Levi’s brow furrowed, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features. He studied my face, his usual confident demeanor momentarily disrupted. "I do not understand, Raphael," he stated, his voice carefully neutral. "You wish for a dissolution of our contract? A divorce, right now?"

"Is this," he continued, his gaze searching mine, "a reaction to my… perhaps blunt assessment of our arrangement? A momentary pique? Or is this a more… considered request? Have you truly weighed the implications of such a decision?"

A humorless laugh escaped my lips, the sound brittle and laced with disbelief. "Implications, Levi?" I echoed, my gaze incredulous. "You, of all people, are talking about the implications of dissolving a contract? How can you even utter the word 'money' when we lie here, in this bed, butt naked, having laid bare some of the most intimate and dangerous truths we have navigated together?"

My voice rose slightly, fueled by a potent mix of hurt and frustration. "We have spoken of vulnerabilities, of fears, of the very core of who we are, and your immediate response to my desire to sever this… this transaction… is about the financial implications? It's always about the damn contract with you, isn't it?"

"Raphael," Levi said, his voice calm, as if trying to soothe a wounded animal. "I honestly believe there is a misunderstanding here. The fact remains that we are still bound by a contractual agreement. And as you yourself pointed out, the nature of your role has evolved, becoming significantly more demanding than initially outlined. Therefore, yes, absolutely, your compensation will be recalculated to reflect these increased responsibilities."

He reached out a hand, his fingers hovering near my arm, though not quite touching. "This is not about dismissing the… personal nature of our recent conversation. But the practicalities of our arrangement must also be addressed. One does not negate the other."

"Are you being intentionally dense right now, Levi?" I demanded, pulling away slightly from his hovering hand. "Who gives a fuck about payment, about the practicalities of our arrangement, when we were just discussing how you systematically and secretly rendered the King of this entire country sterile? The fate of the monarchy, the potential upheaval of an entire nation, the sheer moral implications of what you confessed – and you're worried about recalculating my 'compensation'?" I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief.

Levi’s brow furrowed in what seemed like genuine bewilderment. "But… yes. Both are important, are they not?" he asked, his tone genuinely perplexed. "The stability of the realm is paramount, a necessary foundation for… everything else. And our agreement, however… unconventional, ensures your continued cooperation and discretion. I fail to see the inherent conflict between acknowledging the gravity of one and addressing the practicalities of the other."

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze searching mine as if trying to understand a complex equation that wasn't adding up.

“What do I get paid for exactly, holding your secrets, helping your schemes, oh, yes while we are literally butt naked on the bed, am I also getting paid for warming your bed?”

A muscle twitched in Levi's jaw, a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. "Your role, Raphael, as outlined and subsequently expanded upon, encompasses several key areas," he stated, his voice losing some of its earlier bewilderment, replaced by a more measured tone.

He paused, his gaze flicking over my bare form before returning to my eyes. "It includes, but is not limited to: providing a… suitable public image, navigating social intricacies with a degree of… unexpected competence, offering… intellectual stimulation and, yes, maintaining a certain level of… personal intimacy." He emphasized the last phrase with a subtle inflection, his gaze holding mine. "The compensation package was designed to reflect the multifaceted nature of your contributions."

"Oh my god," I breathed, the words laced with a profound sense of disillusionment. "Oh my God! Fuck this, Levi. Just… fuck this."

I pushed myself up in bed, the sheets falling away. "Now I understand," I continued, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and a deep, aching sadness. "Now I understand even better why we will never see eye to eye."

He saw a transaction, a service rendered and compensated. I had, foolishly, hoped for something more, something that transcended the confines of a signed agreement.

"You can itemize my 'contributions' all you want," I said, my gaze fixed on him, the last vestiges of hope finally extinguished. "But you will never understand the human cost of what you ask, of what you expect. And you will certainly never understand what it feels like to have something as intimate as… this… reduced to a line item in a payment schedule."

I turned sharply, the raw ache of disappointment a physical weight in my chest. Without another word, without waiting for a response, I swung my legs out of the bed and stood.

Each step felt heavy, laden with the unspoken chasm that had just been laid bare.

Reaching the door to my own room, I didn't hesitate. I stepped through, the familiar space offering a small measure of solace, a temporary refuge from the cold reality of our arrangement. With a soft click that echoed in the sudden quiet, I shut the door behind me.