The Tyrant's Pet

"Your Majesty… ahh…"

A woman's moan resonated in the room, followed by a man's hush. Their conversation was too quiet to make up from a bystander's vantage point. The sounds of their moans and grunts would sometimes slip past their lips, but then they would muffle it. There were other noises those two people were making, slowly filling up the dead silent night and sinking deeper into the heat of pleasure.

Little did they know, as their round of sinful passion grew intense, a young man was standing just in front of them in the dark.

"Ahh… Your Majesty…"

'Father…' the young man's irises slowly grew large, watching a man pinning down a woman on his desk. Her skirt was pulled up, revealing her thighs with their lower bodies connected.

Her moans intensified, growing louder and louder, just like how their movements turned faster. The man's grunts and groan also grew louder. It didn't take long before both of them squealed in pleasure, muffling them as the man smashed his lips against the woman.

As the man and woman panted, recovering from their intense activity, a smile turned up on their faces. However, their smile was short-lived as they caught a figure standing from the corner of his eyes. When the man turned his head and his eyes fell on the young man, his pupils instantly went wide.

"Your Highness!" the woman panicked, covering her chest as she hastily got up from the desk. She lowered her head, ashamed to look at the young man who had witnessed everything.

"Father…" the young man's deep green eyes shone with a red undertone. "... what are you doing with that servant?"

The man gazed at the young man sternly before he sighed in defeat.

"Get out of here." He glanced over his shoulder, watching the woman peek at him nervously.

"Ye — yes, Your Majesty."

The young man's handsome face remained stoic, keeping his eyes on the man he called father. He didn't even cast the woman a single look as she bowed to him before she scurried away. When there were just the two of them, the young man spoke again.

"Does Mother know?" he asked without a second hesitation. "My trust in you depends on your answer, Father. How can you do this to her?"

The man kept a stern expression, observing how his son's eyes shake a little.

"I am a man, son. From time to time, I needed to release the primal desire I have as a human being."

"Does mother know?"

"My heart belongs to your mother —"

"Does she know?!" this time, the young man raised his voice until it shook.

There was a moment of silence between them, listening to the echoes of the young man's voice. They maintained eye contact, and the longer the silence reigned over them, the more the young man's fist tightened.

"Yes," the father breathed out after a moment. "Yes, she knows."

The young man's breath hitched. "She knows her infidelity?"

"She's the one who suggested it, son." Shock instantly took over the young man's face at his father's remarks. "Your mother is in terrible shape and she knew she couldn't fulfill her husband's needs. Therefore, she understands this."

The young man tried to process his father's words, but all that was left to him were myriads of question marks. He couldn't understand it, even though the words uttered were crystal clear.

"My son —"

"Who else knew about this?" asked the young man, cutting off his father before the latter could even talk. "Who else?"

The man pressed his lips into a thin line; he didn't answer. However, his expression was enough to answer the young man's question.

"Everyone?" the young man scoffed in disbelief. "How about my sisters? Do they know?"

"Your mother's only request is that none of our children should know."

"And you broke that promise."

"I — you're right." The man huffed quietly. "I broke my promise."

The young man's fist tightened as his jaw tightened. All his life, he saw this man before him as a dutiful husband and loving father. A husband who loved his queen so dearly that he never took in any mistresses or concubines.

But now, that image he had of his father was not only dented, but it cracked. The cracks continued to crawl until that dignified image he had of his father shattered into many pieces.

"Don't you love Mother? How can you say what you were doing was only natural?" the young man blurted out something he didn't even think of. "I… do not understand."

"Son —"

"Stop." The young man's eyes swirled with equal dismay and disgust. He shook his head mildly, keeping his eyes on his father. "It is foolish of me to even ask more since no matter what you say, I wouldn't understand you, Father. You are the one who taught me the concept of love and family, yet you are just like the rest of the noblemen in this country."

"Men who showed a dignified front but fool around their wife's back — sometimes, even in front of their wives. I am disappointed, Father."

"Davien."

"You broke your promise to Mother." The young man, Davien, continued. "I may not understand her reason for suggesting such a thing, but you promised not to let your children know about this little secret. Yet, here we are, talking about your indulgence in debauchery."

Davien took a deep breath and breathed it out through his mouth. "I am disappointed in you. I don't even know where to start." He took a step forward, his eyes were sharp.

"However, no matter how disappointed and repelled I am feeling right now, I want you to make a promise," he added solemnly, grinding his teeth. "This time, even if it cost you your life, don't make the same mistake again, Father."

"I am begging you… don't let my sisters know what kind of man you truly are. Keep the facade until the day you die. Don't disappoint them, just like how you disappointed me," he added, his helplessness and anger colliding. "This would hurt them a thousand times, Father."

The father and son stared at each other in silence. Davien didn't say anything after his last remarks, and then another minute had passed, and he turned on his heel to walk away.

Both of them wanted to say more, but there was nothing to say, as it would only make the situation worse. The man wouldn't change the truth, and the young man would only get hurt more and more. Therefore, the man, the king of Rikhill, could only stand motionless in the same spot as he watched his son, the crown prince, leave him all alone.

They were never the same after that night.