Chapter 258 Chapter 255 Ping A (Part 2)
The two looked at each other for a while.
Yve Frostleaf gazed at his face, recalling the moments they spent together before.
“George, would you be willing to stand up against my parents’ anger and elope with me?”
Of course, this kind of thing couldn’t be said directly.
What is this? She was a high elf, and although a illegitimate daughter, her status was still quite prestigious. It should be him kneeling before her, sincerely asking if she would be willing to give herself to him.
No, she couldn’t think like that anymore. If she continued to wait, by the time her father arrived, it would all be too late.
Just as Yve Frostleaf was in turmoil within.
George spoke up and asked, “Is there something wrong?”
“You lack patience.”
“It’s already been ten minutes.”
Yve Frostleaf took a slight breath, deciding to lower herself.
For George, who knows how much dignity she had to put aside?
“George, have you heard of such a story?” Yve Frostleaf said, “A poor farmer from the countryside goes out adventuring, defeats a dragon, and saves a princess. I heard this is rather popular in the human kingdom.”
“I’ve heard of it,” George said. “Such clichéd stories have become tiresome. People are now satirizing such protagonists. However, tastes seem to have changed again; there’s a very trite novel gaining popularity in the Empire.”
Yve Frostleaf continued to hint, “If this were to happen in real life, how would the farmer protagonist defeat the dragon and save the princess so that she would overlook their status difference and become devoted to him?”
“Usually, novels write that the princess falls in love at first sight and takes the initiative, and they find mutual affection.”
Yve Frostleaf’s heart sank, and she asked, “Is this reasonable?”
“Reasonable or not,” George replied, “the two come from different living environments. Even if the farmer hero accomplishes great feats, the princess might not necessarily be interested in him.”
“So?”
“If the farmer hero were to pursue the princess with romantic overtures, then it would make sense.”
Yve Frostleaf raised her chin slightly, her expression softening, and asked, “What if you were the farmer hero?”
“I wouldn’t pursue the princess,” George said. “In such stories, beautiful and noble women are considered trophies given to the farmer hero. Later, many novels mock this kind of plot, amplifying the farmer hero’s flaws, saying the protagonist is unworthy and ridiculing readers for dreaming.”
“But then again, why must the protagonist marry a high-status princess? Just because she was captured by a dragon?” George said. “If I were the protagonist, I would never marry a woman I’ve never interacted with.”
Yve Frostleaf hastily said, “But she has high status; marrying her means acquiring the whole kingdom, and great wealth.”
“If I have the power to slay dragons, why should I care about such mundane matters?” George countered. “The princess has no charm; they grow up in the palace, their servants flattering them and making them arrogant. Moreover, they have no ability to take care of themselves; they possess only beautiful appearances but end up as mere ornaments, repeatedly captured by dragons. The protagonist must defeat the dragon for them time after time.”
George continued, “If it were me, I would only keep my distance from the princess and would never marry her.”
Yve Frostleaf’s hand trembled slightly, feeling as if George were implying something about her.
Because from a certain perspective, she could be considered an elven princess; although she was an illegitimate daughter, she was treated as a regular elven princess.
No, George grew up in the cathedral and was always straightforward; he shouldn’t be implying anything. But just now, he clearly understood the playful joke of the succubus; did he not know that the princess in reference to that was me? Did he dislike my pride?
If he didn’t know, then why wasn’t he paying more attention to me?
Yve Frostleaf turned her head to look elsewhere, her eyes slightly moist.
Her cool voice trembled:
“What if it’s a lover’s relationship with the princess?”
“Impossible.”
“Why not? Is the princess not beautiful?”
“Jima also asked me a similar question,” George replied. “I understand that many men only think about maintaining close relationships with multiple women, but that does not include me. I cannot act intimately with women I have no feelings for.”
In an instant, Yve Frostleaf felt utterly humiliated. She had主动开口同意屈尊做情人, yet he still rejected her.
The heartfelt offering felt like receiving a kick, shattering into pieces.
“I understand now,” Yve Frostleaf turned her back, her eyes turning red, her silhouette distant, like standing on an iceberg.
George didn’t know why a discussion about a novel’s plot had made the atmosphere so tense.
He asked, “What do you understand?”
Yve Frostleaf did not answer; she took long strides and walked down most of the stairs in a few steps.
She felt she had misjudged him, thinking that George simply lacked initiative and was a bit dull, unable to understand the elven implications. She didn’t expect he actually looked down on her.
A hand suddenly gripped Yve Frostleaf’s shoulder firmly; George’s voice came from behind: “Are you implying the princess is you?”
“No,” Yve Frostleaf responded coldly. “Let go, you short-lived being.”
“You’re lying.” George didn’t heed her words; he turned her around and grabbed her shoulders, saying, “You can speak properly.”
“You’ve dirtied my shoulder armor, monkey.” Yve Frostleaf’s gaze was cold enough to freeze. “I’ll repeat myself, let go.”
But George pressed her against the city wall; Yve Frostleaf didn’t hesitate, kicking up her leg. George brought one hand down to hold her knee. At this moment, George realized Yve Frostleaf’s legs under her skirt were wrapped in silky silver threads.
He directly asked, “Is the personal matter you want to discuss about confirming a relationship with me?”
Yve Frostleaf’s long ears immediately turned red, her face flushed, as she said, “Delusional.”
Saying this, she slapped George’s face. George released her knee and grabbed her wrist, saying, “Speak properly; you lied just now.”
“What happened before is different.” Yve Frostleaf said, “Since you regard me as a mere ornament, what is there to talk about?”
“But you’re not a princess.”
George felt his words were powerless, so he acted instead. He firmly grasped Yve Frostleaf’s wrist, pressing her against the wall, and kissed her forcefully.
Yve Frostleaf resisted vigorously, but it only managed to push George back a little. This feeling of being compelled only made her heart race, excitement surging, and she fought back even harder.
The wall began to shake.
Fortunately, George was strong enough to hold her down; his hot lips pressed against her cold ones, their tongues intertwining. Yve Frostleaf’s lips felt cooler than this spring.
Gradually, Yve Frostleaf’s muscles relaxed, her hands fell down, wrapping around George’s waist.
At this moment, a tall elven maid was walking gracefully over. She thought about how after finishing this battle, she could finally leave the Knight Barton’s kingdom, escape her harsh living conditions, and never have to deal with those inferior races again; her mood improved significantly.
She remembered the task given to her by Her Majesty the Queen, and she would be able to accomplish it perfectly. Her Majesty would surely be very pleased; if she was pleased, she would pay even more attention to her.
The future looked bright.
This task was really simple. Thanks to her smart mind, she found the succubus Jima to be an ally…
As she thought, the elven maid found the pear in her mouth sweeter. But not as sweet as our elven varieties.
At that moment, the sight of the two lovers on the steps caught her eye.
A knight and a silver-haired woman with waist-length hair were kissing.
Tsk, humans really are irresponsible; they are in the middle of a war yet still kissing here. Don’t they know to go inside the tent? After kissing, if things heat up, clothes come off, and they do some romantic things.
The elven maid watched while munching on the pear, and the longer she looked, the more familiar the two seemed. She took a closer look.
Whoa! Isn’t that Lady Frostleaf? That monkey George is actually sullying Lady Frostleaf!
The elven maid felt like she was struck by lightning; her grip loosened, and the half-eaten pear fell to the ground. Furious, she drew her sword, took a few steps forward, then stopped.
She wasn’t foolish. She couldn’t take on George alone. If she charged in recklessly, she’d be facing a mixed double battleground.
Just then, she saw the succubus Jima, head down, scribbling in a notebook.
The elven maid hurried over to her reliable ally, asking, “Jima, did you see your man on the steps?”
Jima quickly closed her notebook; she had just been thinking of suitable toys for Yve Frostleaf. No matter whether she wanted it or not, since she was with George, she couldn’t escape her hands.
She looked at the elven maid, an expression of helplessness on her face:
“I know. I watched Yve Frostleaf walking over; she told George to drive me away, and then they kissed. After all, I’m just a succubus. Once Frostleaf lowers herself to pursue love, what can I do?”
“That’s true,” the elven maid replied, suddenly realizing, “What? Lady Frostleaf actually took the initiative?”
“Yes.” Jima lied without blushing or missing a heartbeat. “I saw her lift her skirt, exposing her long legs, asking George if he liked it.”
“How is that possible?” The elven maid exclaimed in her mother tongue. “Lady Frostleaf actually… actually did such a thing.”
Jima sighed and shrugged: “It’s not that this succubus is too weak, but that Frostleaf, her conditions are too good. In the future, I might not even have the title of wife; I can only be a familiar.”
Seeing Jima’s pitiful expression, the elven maid’s heart ached for her. There was no helping it; after all, Lady Frostleaf was so “strong.”
This succubus was pitiable too; for a moment, she couldn’t even bring herself to scold her.
Inside, Jima was delighted, like a fly rubbing its hands.
One could say that a toy should come with a little whip, one that could break those silver threads… It just felt like it was missing something; otherwise, should she change the room to a dungeon?
“No other choice,” the elven maid declared. “I’ll write a letter; please deliver it to the guardian of Osu’an.”
“Guardian of Osu’an?” Jima asked. “The champion knight of the elven queen?”
“Yes,” the elven maid replied. “He cares deeply for Lady Frostleaf; if he knows she has been sullied, he will certainly help calm her down.”
“And what about George?”
“Sometimes, men need to suffer a bit to understand their position,” the elven maid said. “Only then will he cherish you.”
Joking around, how could I let you disrupt this? I’m still waiting to tear down those silver threads.
Jima’s eyes gleamed with the flames of ambition as she nodded: “You’re right; men should be in my grasp.”
Finishing what she said, she also raised her hand and squeezed tightly.
The elven maid said, “Alright, we must deliver the letter to him immediately.”
