The keep fell into silence by nightfall. Torches burned low in the hallways, shadows crawling over the stone walls like silent watchers.
And I—Lord Lynx Brian, the villain fated to die—stood before Marienne Duskveil's door.
The widow's chambers loomed dark and heavy, guarded by silence rather than steel. My hand hovered over the handle, but I didn't move just yet.
The MILF System flickered to life at my side.
[Quest Active: Drink With the Widow.]
Objective: Accept her invitation.
Reward: Corruption +?%
Risk: Fatal poisoning.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Die from poison, or die from refusing her."
[Correction: Die from not getting laid.]
I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open.
The Widow's Den
The scent of spiced incense and roses struck first. Candles burned everywhere—on shelves, on tables, on the wide bed draped in black silk.
Marienne sat at the table, a vision of death and desire. Black gown clung to her body, slit high enough to reveal pale thighs. A thin veil veiled the sharp planes of her face, but her crimson lips were bare tonight.
"Lord Lynx." Her voice was soft, honey wrapped around steel. "You came."
I shut the door behind me. "How could I refuse such a… gracious invitation?"
Her lips curved. "Gracious. That is one word for it."
With delicate fingers, she poured deep red wine into two goblets. The liquid swirled, catching the candlelight like blood under fire. She slid one toward me across the table.
"Sit. Drink. Let us toast… to new beginnings."
Poison or Desire
I sat. My hand closed around the goblet. The stem was cold, but the liquid within smelled sweet, almost too sweet.
The system chimed.
[Warning: Poison detected.]
Estimated Effect: Paralysis, then death.
Survival Chance: 5%.
I nearly choked on air.
"Something wrong?" Marienne tilted her head, veil shifting slightly. Her eyes, dark as a midnight sea, watched every flicker of my expression.
Think, Lynx. You wrote her. You know her. She's cunning, wounded, furious. She wants blood… but she also wants to see if I'll flinch.
So I raised the goblet.
Her lips parted slightly. A test.
I drank.
The wine burned my tongue, smooth and bitter all at once, sliding hot down my throat.
The system screamed.
[Poison Ingested!]
[Resistance Triggered: Effect Reduced.]
Remaining Risk: 87%.
Well, fuck.
I set the goblet down, smiling faintly, even as my stomach twisted like a nest of snakes. "Delicious."
Her eyes narrowed, but behind the veil I thought I saw the faintest flicker of surprise.
Dance of Words
"Few men would drink from my hand so carelessly," she said, her voice hushed.
"Few women make poison look so inviting."
That earned me a sharp laugh, quick and bitter. "Careful, Lord Lynx. Flattery is cheap, and my patience is thin."
"Patience," I murmured, leaning slightly forward, "isn't what you want from me."
The system hummed like a cat.
[Corruption Progress: Marienne Duskveil 7% → 12%.]
Her fingers tapped the rim of her goblet. She hadn't taken a sip of her own wine.
So that's how it is. One cup poisoned, one not. And I'd just chosen the blade instead of the shield.
Still, her gaze lingered. That flicker of heat again. Desire wrapped in hatred, hatred wrapped in desire.
She wanted to see me suffer. She wanted to see if I'd break.
And gods help me… a part of me wanted her to watch.
Tension at the Table
Minutes stretched. My chest tightened from the poison. Not enough to kill me—yet—but enough to heat my blood, to send shivers crawling over my skin.
Marienne finally rose, slow as a stalking cat. Her gown whispered across the floor as she circled behind me. Her fingers brushed my shoulder, feather-light, then lingered on the back of my neck.
"Still breathing," she murmured, voice by my ear. "You endure better than I expected."
"I'm full of surprises." My words came out rougher than I intended.
Her nails dragged lightly down my neck, sending a shudder through me.
[System Note: Foreplay detected.]
I clenched my jaw. Not the time.
Marienne leaned close, veil brushing my cheek, her lips almost at my ear. "Tell me, Lord Lynx… do you think I want you dead?"
The poison burned deeper. My pulse thudded heavy. And still—I smirked. "I think you want me to suffer first."
Her breath hitched. Just slightly.
Then she pulled back, veil fluttering. "Clever tongue. Dangerous tongue."
She returned to her seat, eyes locked on mine.
A Dangerous Game
I finished the wine. Slowly. Every last drop.
Her lips parted again, shock unhidden this time.
"Your move," I said, setting the empty goblet down with a click.
For a moment, silence. Then laughter—low, dark, genuine.
Marienne laughed until her shoulders shook, until her hand pressed to her lips to steady herself.
"Oh, Lord Lynx," she whispered finally, eyes glinting through the veil. "You truly are either the bravest man alive… or the greatest fool."
The system pinged.
[Corruption Progress: Marienne Duskveil 12% → 18%.]
My head swam. The poison still burned, but her laughter, her voice, the heat in her gaze—it almost made me forget the danger.
Almost.
Because I knew, even as she leaned forward, veil lowering slightly, lips glistening in the candlelight—
This was only the beginning.