Looking at Margaery Tyrell lying face-down on the bed and crying, Kal felt utterly revolted.
The Tyrell family's move was nothing but a trick like putting a burr under someone's foot—no real bite, but disgusting all the same.
It could be said that from the moment Margaery Tyrell stepped into his room, the Tyrell family's scheme had already taken shape.
Yes, as things stood, Kal truly needed do nothing at all. As long as he calmly accepted the tempting cake the Tyrell family had delivered to him, he would gain an exceptionally powerful ally.
And by riding that momentum, defeating his two uncles and sitting securely upon the Iron Throne would hardly be difficult to achieve.
But if Kal had to swallow this mouthful of filth raw just to earn that money, he truly could not bear it.
From the physical to the psychological, it produced an inexpressible sense of disgust.
That feeling of being calculated against made him want nothing more than to weld his fist into the face of whoever was plotting against him.
However, that was not the most important point.
To be fair, the Tyrell family's scheming was not, in itself, all that excessive to Kal. When all was said and done, it was merely another bout of opportunistic speculation by House Tyrell.
Moreover, he had to admit that with such speculation bringing him enormous benefit, he really had little ground to object.
After all, making money is nothing to be ashamed of.
And what does it matter what kind of wife one marries? Once the lights are out, aren't they all the same?
So what truly disgusted Kal was that this scheme by the Tyrell family would completely disrupt all of his subsequent plans.
It did not align with what Kal intended to do next, and beyond being unreasonable, it carried far-reaching future troubles.
Once he tacitly allowed the Tyrell family to become in-laws of the royal house, there was no need to think further—by the time it came to his descendants, House Tyrell would inevitably become a massive hidden danger.
They would become a presence hanging off his family and the entire dynasty, sucking it dry like a leech.
Thus, although the cake before him looked beautiful and enticing, in truth it was nothing more than a lump of filth coated in frosting.
If Kal truly accepted the Tyrell family's investment now, the price he would pay in the future would only grow larger.
Kal was not so shortsighted, nor would he ever allow such a thing to happen.
Margaery was still sobbing as she cried, and Kal felt nothing but irritation.
Yet just as he was worrying over how to resolve this predicament and strike back without letting the Tyrell family's scheme succeed, his gaze suddenly settled on Margaery's shapely figure.
The Rose of Highgarden lying face-down on the bed and crying trembled slightly, looking exceptionally enticing.
Then, all at once, an idea abruptly surfaced in Kal's mind.
The key to solving the problem lay precisely in the problem itself.
At that thought, the vexation in Kal's heart was suddenly swept away, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a suitably "elegant" curve.
"No woman has ever done so much for me, Margaery. This is something a bastard would never dare to imagine."
Kal suddenly stepped forward and sat down on the bed, and his large hand appeared quite "appropriately" at the small rose's soft waist.
Margaery Tyrell, who had been sobbing, first felt Kal sit down behind her, and immediately after felt his burning palm gently rest against her sensitive waist.
Faced with the sudden groping hand, Margaery—who had intended to continue angrily and resentfully complaining—froze in place, utterly unable to speak for a moment.
Then, hearing Kal deliberately lower his voice, his words filled with "feeling," Margaery Tyrell's shoulders shook, and she stiffened on the spot.
Forgetting to cry, she instinctively turned her head to look at Kal.
Those reddened, pitiful eyes were like a pair of gems soaked with water—moist and alluring.
"Y-Your Majesty."
Confronted with Kal, who had softened and become gentle after she had scolded and complained at him, Margaery found herself at a loss as to how she should react.
But seeing her pitiful, delicate appearance, Kal simply reached out domineeringly, pulled the Margaery who had been lying on the bed up in one motion, and drew her into his arms.
"So I should apologize to you. My tone just now was somewhat impulsive, simply because the situation is indeed very difficult at present, and you—"
Kal paused at this point, timing it perfectly, and a trace of well-measured bitterness surfaced on his face.
"Originally, you were the lofty Princess of Highgarden, the most beautiful rose of the Reach."
"At that time, I didn't dare approach you—much less when everyone in King's Landing knew why you had come. That was never something a bastard like me should have dared to imagine, nor an overreach I could afford."
"So… will you forgive me?"
Margaery Tyrell, still unable to process what Kal had just said, and then suddenly pulled up from the bed and drawn into his arms by his domineering move, found her mind utterly blank.
Feeling the hard armor, the scorching breath of the man before her, and the thick surge of hormones radiating from him, Margaery felt her head buzzing and her heart pounding erratically.
She felt as though she could barely breathe.
Yet the fragment of reason she had not entirely lost, upon hearing Kal's explanation, finally made her understand why—from the very beginning in King's Landing—the man before her had deliberately kept his distance from her.
Indeed, at that time, even the beggars in King's Landing knew why House Tyrell had come.
As someone who had just rendered great service on the battlefield and been granted lands and title, Kal El—so long as he was not a fool—naturally should not have fallen into such romantic scandals.
All the more so when such rumors were connected to his own father.
Having thought this through, and looking once more into those deep, affectionate dark-blue eyes, Margaery's cheeks flushed as she instinctively reached up to cup Kal's face.
The stubble just beginning to show pricked her palm with a faint sting, yet she felt as though the world had never been as real as it was in this moment.
Everything before her was like a distant, unattainable dream.
What young woman does not harbor such longings?
Kal El, known as the Bloodwind, had already become renowned across the Seven Kingdoms during the war. At that time, he could be said to be the most dazzling star of the age.
When he was still nothing more than a landless knight, he had already been able to command troops alone, stirring chaos across the Riverlands battlefield, where enemies were everywhere.
Not only had he saved House Blackwood from the brink of ruin, but with his own strength alone, in just a little over a month, he had swept across the land, forcing the Lannister armies to retreat south of the Red Fork and dig in defensively.
It could be said that from that moment on, the Seven Kingdoms began to sing the praises of Kal—whose name at the time was still Kal Stone.
Anyone who paid attention to the war, no matter where they were, rushed to discuss this dazzling pearl that was slowly rising.
What followed went even further beyond everyone's expectations: this bastard knight actually became the acting Warden of the East.
At first, people rather darkly suspected that the king was using this as a pretext to suppress this bastard who had drawn too much attention, to let him suffer a setback and come to his senses.
Yet who could have imagined that Kal Stone—who was expected to fade from view because of this—would still be able to continue stirring up storms in the Vale.
Although what exactly happened in the Vale was not widely known, people did know that Ser Kal had completed the task entrusted to him by the king extremely well.
However, just as troops marched out of the Vale of Arryn and victory over the Lannister rebel army under the broader strategic situation seemed imminent, a conspiracy that had long been laid suddenly erupted at that very moment, instantly overturning what had appeared to be a favorable situation for the Iron Throne.
For a time, the Baratheon dynasty was in grave danger.
And yet, once again, it was still him.
At a moment when no one knew what to do, he cast everything aside without hesitation and led his army on a long, headlong dash to King's Landing.
Then, once more, he miraculously rescued the fallen King's Landing from the schemes of the already mad and brutal Tywin Lannister.
In doing so, he also completely shattered the last hope of House Lannister, forcing the entire Westerlands to preserve themselves through surrender alone.
The final culprit, Tywin Lannister, and House Lannister with him, lost everything under these circumstances, withdrew entirely from the stage of history, and brought this tumultuous farce to an end.
In less than half a year, an originally unknown bastard rose from obscurity and stepped onto the stage of history.
As for the man who accomplished all of this, there was no need to say how legendary he appeared in the eyes of people across the Seven Kingdoms. Yet this man was like an inexhaustible treasure—just when one thought he had reached his limit, he would always surprise people again in the most unexpected places.
Master of Coin, the tourney, and finally, the championship of that last jousting match—these completely brought the radiance of Kal El into full bloom before the eyes of the world.
If Robert Baratheon of more than a decade ago was the dream lover of all women across the Seven Kingdoms, then—
So the present Kal El surpassed him by an unknown margin.
Margaery was also a woman, and she was likewise unable to resist the charm of the man holding her in his arms.
She could not even remember how many times she had been reckless over him in her dreams, only to blush the next day as she changed out of the nightclothes she had slept in the previous night.
And now, that dream seemed to have come true.
In those deep-blue eyes, vast as the sea, Margaery felt as though she had already sunk into them, unable to pull herself free. And so, faced with Kal's apology, the only response she could manage was a soft, unconscious hum from her nose.
Within the secluded room, the atmosphere gradually grew heated with that unintentional murmur from Margaery Tyrell.
Kal merely smiled faintly in response and leaned down.
After a long, heated kiss, Kal grabbed her robe and, with a single rough yank, tore it completely apart.
"Wow… you're really wearing nothing under that robe, are you?" Kal muttered as he took in the sight of her flawless, naked body.
"W-what are you doing?" Margaery gasped, her hands flying up instinctively to cover her breasts. Kal had a clear view of them—so full they could barely be contained by her own hands, yet perfectly shaped and firm.
Kal moved his hands to her waist, scooped her up in a bridal hold, and set her down on the bed.
Kal stripped quickly before positioning himself over her. Margaery went rigid at once, but before she could react, Kal kissed her while his hand slipped down, sliding to a dangerous part of her anatomy—a part that was already sopping wet.
"N-no," she gasped in shock, breaking away from the kiss as Kal's fingers danced around her clit, finally shattering the silence she had maintained until now.
"That's too—" she added, but her voice died halfway as his fingers continued to circle her sensitive spot, the pleasure building once again.
"Too much what?" Kal asked as his other hand slid over her body. Her gasp only grew sharper as he caught her nipple between his fingers, twisting hard enough to unleash another surge of pleasure.
"I don't—" she started, but as his fingers sank into her shockingly large breasts, she was once again betrayed by her own body, the surge of pleasure gathering into a beautiful moan. It was tense and throaty, making it clear she had just come.
"You don't—what?" Kal asked as he shifted his hands to her waist, but all she managed was a needy whimper. Kal grabbed her hips with a bit more force and lifted them briefly, positioning her for what was to come, drawing no protest as she struggled to cope with the invading waves of pleasure.
Kal kissed her as he settled his full weight over her and slid inside her, the motion drawing a spectacular moan that was muffled by the kiss.
And just like that, with his weight pressing her down, Kal took the virginity of the Rose of Highgarden.
As her warmth tightened around him, Kal paused his penetration, savoring the desperate kiss Margaery pressed to him—mixed with muffled sobs that held as much pain as pleasure—while, at the same time, his thoughts turned to the changes in their small, warped relationship: from the initial rejection, when he first realized the trouble she would bring, to the disgust he felt upon meeting her again at Crakehall Castle, when he understood he was being manipulated, and finally to taking her as his own.
Now she was nothing more than a little, lust-drunk rose, writhing beneath the invasion of unfamiliar pleasure as Kal continued to relish her phenomenal tightness, each passing second driving his own intense pleasure even higher.
She might have taken issue with his sudden pause, but if she did, she was far too busy moaning under the unbroken press of pleasure to deal with it properly.
Kal didn't stay motionless for long. He pulled back from the kiss, his hands gripping her lush breasts, drawing a rich, delicious moan from her.
And without warning, he thrust forward—something she clearly enjoyed, judging by the way her back arched beneath him.
His grip on her breasts tightened as his hips began to rock back and forth, driving forward while her tightness reshaped itself around his member, her moans bursting out loud enough to deafen a weaker man.
For a while, Kal did nothing but move back and forth, simply surrendering to the relentless invasion of pleasure as her tightness drew ever tighter around him. There was no banter, no teasing, no commands—only the steady rhythm of their bodies as he drove her toward the second climax of her life. It didn't take long to arrive, crashing into her with the force of a collapsing building, pushing her to the brink of unconsciousness… only for him to stop it by casting a simple healing spell.
The utility of magic was hard to overstate.
However, due to the sheer gap in physical strength, the spell failed to rouse her completely after the toll on her body. Kal used the moment to roll her onto her stomach, baring her beautiful ass, his seed spilling between her cheeks. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the sight—then brought his hand down to spank her beautiful ass.
The sharp jolt of pain was just enough to force her eyes open, dragging her back from the edge of unconsciousness and the torrent of pleasure flooding her senses.
"Do you need a break," Kal asked, "or can the Rose of Highgarden keep going without one?"
She twisted her neck to meet his gaze, her expression beautifully taut, carrying faint traces of reproach—faint only because they were being drowned beneath waves of pleasure and exhaustion.
"I'll take that as a no," Kal smirked, even as he pressed his hand to her back, pushing her down and setting her up for another round.
...
A faint green glow shimmered and danced between Kal's fingers, the spill of magic washing over Margaery Tyrell's body, seeping into her skin and steadying her breath.
Only after easing her back—after pulling Margaery Tyrell away from the edge of unconsciousness he had pushed her to—did he finally nod in satisfaction.
All right, to be honest, he had done it on purpose.
But although Minor Healing was called Minor Healing in name, that rules-based ability was already more than sufficient for Margaery Tyrell, who had been utterly overwhelmed by Kal.
Thus, her faint breathing gradually grew stronger, and her heartbeat became more powerful with each passing beat.
Margaery Tyrell, who in the lingering aftereffects had nearly lost half her life, felt her soul finally return to her body.
"Mmh~"
With that soft hum, light returned to Margaery's eyes, and her pupils gradually came back into focus.
Instinctively, she turned her head to look at Kal, who was just picking up her clothes and draping them over her.
"K-Kal… Your Majesty, just now I—I thought I was about to die. It was truly… truly—"
The voice of Margaery Tyrell, left haggard and disheveled by what she had endured, carried both fear and a trace of lingering aftertaste. For a moment, she did not even know how to describe that sensation.
It was something entirely different from the secret, furtive finger games she had played on her own—or even together with her maids.
It was not as though she had never seen such things before.
After all, within House Tyrell, there had long been people who performed such acts right before her eyes.
She had learned a great deal of related knowledge and understood what pleasure was, and what power was.
Yet even though she had seen enough and learned enough, and considered herself something of an expert in this regard, when faced with Kal—
Although this should have counted as her first true encounter, she had never imagined that King Kal could be so overwhelmingly powerful.
It was as though he were—no longer human.
As she spoke, Margaery could not help but recall the only thought in her mind when she had been lost amid those wave after wave of impacts.
In those countless moments of daze, she seemed to have truly seen a god.
Only, again and again, a strong, warm hand had pulled her back.
In response to Margaery's words, Kal merely wore a faint smile as he calmly fastened the buttons of his clothing.
The dragon armor had long since been put away. At this moment, he was dressed in gold-brown brocade silk robes.
The tailor-fitted garments only further set off his extraordinary bearing.
Still caught in the afterglow, Margaery looked at the Kal before her, and her gaze could not help but grow dazed once more.
"Hungry? I'll have someone bring you some food in a bit, so if there's anything you want to eat, you can tell me now."
After getting dressed, Kal walked over to Margaery, bent down, and gently brushed the strands of hair at her temple—soaked again and again with sweat—back behind her ear.
Then he cupped her face like that, his fingers lightly stroking the delicate, almost fragile skin of her cheek before kissing her forehead and asking softly.
Still immersed in an indescribable happiness, Margaery felt that, faced with Kal's tenderness, she could probably gnaw on a stone if he brought it to her.
But she would never say that. Instead, she replied contentedly, "If possible, I'd like to take a bath first, and then just some soft bread and a thick soup."
"Perhaps you'll need a bit of meat as well. I'll have the cook add some chicken to your soup—or clams, something like that."
"It will help you."
After saying this, Kal leaned down once more to place a kiss on Margaery's forehead, then straightened up.
Seeing him about to leave, Margaery felt a sudden, inexplicable panic and quickly reached out to catch his fingers.
"Y-you… when will you come back?"
As she said this, the Rose of Highgarden was already too shy to lift her head.
She was both afraid and expectant.
She didn't even know what she ought to say.
But no matter what, at this moment, she only wanted Kal to stay by her side.
"I'll be back very soon. Don't worry."
"For now, besides having hot water and food sent to you, I still have one other thing I need to take care of."
"You can wait just a little."
Kal gently freed his fingers from Margaery's grasp and said with a smile.
Hearing this, Margaery Tyrell could only let go with obvious reluctance. Then she turned over and lay facedown on the bed, striking a coy, inviting pose.
The undulating lines of her body rose and fell like overlapping hills, strikingly beautiful.
"I'll wait for you—"
With those lingering words from Margaery, still heavy with afterglow, Kal left the room.
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