As if entirely oblivious to Lin Yao’s icy demeanor, Kathy stepped forward with a light smile. “Aren’t you going to ask me what this is about?”
Lin Yao looked at him coldly. Yet those eyes, glistening as though soaked in limpid spring water, shimmered with breathtaking clarity. “Your Highness will tell me anyway.”
“Yao, you really are adorable.” Kathy’s expression was gentle, yet he stood a half-head taller than Lin Yao. Looking down at him from above, he murmured, “I truly want to ask my eldest brother to hand you over to me. Would you be willing?”
Uncomfortable with the sudden proximity, Lin Yao stepped back and bowed deferentially. “Your Highness, I belong to the Sanctuary. I belong to no man. If there is nothing else, I must proceed with my daily prayers. I will not disturb you any longer.”
“No, forgive my intrusion.” Kathy stepped forward, catching him by the hand. His broad, warm palm enveloped Lin Yao’s pale, jade-like fingers, his heat transferring directly through the youth’s fingertips.
Lin Yao gently withdrew his hand. He looked as though he wanted to say something, yet remained silent. Slipping past Kathy, he left behind only a faint, subtle fragrance—the very same scent that lingered on his fingertips.
“Your Highness, the First Prince will return in three days,” an attendant reported, bowing low before Kathy. Out of the corner of his eye, the servant caught sight of Kathy bringing his fingers to his nose to inhale the lingering scent, and quickly lowered his gaze further.
A priest was inviolable, supposed to be free from desecration. Yet before absolute power, such minor transgressions were rarely taken to heart.
“How many cities did Elder Brother conquer this time? Did he manage to take the cities of Venus as well? I hear the women there are quite exquisite,” Kathy remarked, leaning casually against the white carved gallery. “If he conquered that land, Royal Father will certainly be pleased.”
“We have not yet received official confirmation. We must wait for the First Prince’s return to know for certain,” the attendant replied respectfully.
Kathy rose, cast a casual glance down the corridor, and turned to leave with a subtle smile.
The territory of Onassis had been expanding relentlessly. Ever since eight years ago, their armies seemed invincible. Every victory brought immense riches, and as citizens of the realm, the people naturally reaped grand benefits.
They gained cheap slaves, vast new lands, and endless wealth—and all of it was brought to them by the golden-haired man riding at the head of the army.
“Prince Cody!”
“Prince Cody, I love you passionately!”
“You are as radiant as the Sun God himself!”
Leading his troops through streets lined with flowers and echoes of praise, Cody reached the gates of the royal palace. Even his sword glittered with golden dust—a tribute from the wealthy citizens who tossed gold ornaments toward his path.
“Elder Brother, you’ve returned.” A gentle voice sounded from beside the horse. Slender fingers reached out, taking the reins from an attendant’s hands. Tall and straight, the young man stood below the horse, his eyes filled with warmth and admiration.
“Kathy.” The smile on Cody’s face widened. Pulling back the reins, he swung down in one fluid motion, his cloud-silk cloak fluttering as his boots landed heavily on the stone ground. “Why were you waiting out here?”
“The moment I heard you were coming back, I couldn’t wait to see you,” Kathy said, stepping forward to throw an arm around his shoulders. “Come, let’s go. Royal Father is waiting for you.”
The two young men were equally tall and striking. Though they had different hair colors, both possessed a fierce, martial charm. Walking together so closely, they naturally drew the admiration of many onlookers.
“Prince Cody and Prince Kathy have such a wonderful bond.”
After meeting the King and presenting his war reports, Cody looked over the rewarded treasures with mild boredom, poking through them with the tip of his dagger. They were ornate and translucent, yet the bright, glittering gold felt somewhat garish to his eyes.
“Divide these into three portions. Give the other two to my brothers.” Cody sheathed his dagger with a harsh, metallic scrape. He sat down on the carpet before his table, leaning against a plush cushion.
Beside him, newly dressed maidens massaged his shoulders. Their delicate fingers were adorned with beautiful colors, matching their seductive, lovely countenances.
Cody casually wrapped an arm around one maiden’s waist. She gasped softly, but he made no further move. Instead, he lifted a golden goblet, drank deeply, and ordered, “Go invite the High Priest over.”
“Does Your Highness mean Lord Yao?” The attendant asked carefully.
The prince had spent years on the battlefield. Though handsomely captivating, the thick aura of blood clinging to him was no joke. Even the maiden he held—though smiling coyly—could not stop her body from trembling subtly.
“What do you think?” Cody let out a low chuckle.
The attendant hastily agreed, then practically scrambled out of the room.
When Lin Yao received the summon, he merely put down what he was holding in silence. Under the worshipping gaze of his servant, he stood up calmly.
Meeting this man again after a year, Lin Yao found him without his armor. Three empty wine flagons were already stacked beside him. His collar was slightly open, and his golden hair fell loosely—some strands draped over his back, others resting playfully against his collarbone, brushing the physical perfection that so many coveted.
Though he reeked of alcohol, Cody’s deep blue eyes held only a hint of drunkenness. Beneath his half-lidded gaze, a sharp, dangerous edge flickered occasionally.
He possessed infinite wealth, a physique enviable to all men under heaven, and a face so flawlessly handsome it seemed sculpted by divine hands. Lin Yao had to admit—this man was like the ultimate adversary to all men, even setting aside the deep-seated vengeance between them.
“Your Highness,” Lin Yao bowed, his indifferent gaze sweeping past, completely ignoring the prince’s arm wrapped around the maiden.
“You’re here.” Cody looked up, his deep eyes flashing with a hidden intensity as he took in the pure white figure. He waved a dismissive hand. “You, come here. The rest of you, leave.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the maidens murmured seductively. Yet in their final tones, there was a faint trace of relief, as if they had just narrowly escaped death.
Lin Yao sat cross-legged across from him, his nose twitching slightly. Wine evaporated quickly, but when mixed with the scent of blood, it became even easier to detect. His cold voice carried a subtle, unspoken meaning: “Your Highness, are you injured? May I inspect it?”
“Yao is indeed an exceptional priest to notice right away.” Cody turned his head, spreading his arms open casually. “If you wish to see, go ahead.”
Lin Yao paused, hesitating for a fraction of a second before extending his hands. His jade-like fingers slid past the prince’s belt, unbuckling the clasp with a soft click. Pulling open the collar, he revealed Cody’s muscular, honey-toned chest.
However, Lin Yao’s focus was entirely on the bandages wrapped tightly around his waist and abdomen. Blood was already seeping through. Judging by the location, it had been a perilous wound—had it landed just an inch lower, this man might never have returned alive.
A pity and yet, not a pity at all.
If he simply killed him now, it wouldn’t satisfy Lin Yao—nor would it satisfy the soul of this body’s original owner.
For eight long years, that hatred had burned in his chest, never fading for a single moment.
Lin Yao carefully picked up a pair of shears from a prepared tray nearby. Lowering his eyelids and holding his breath, he delicately cut through the linen. When the open wound was revealed, his breath hitched slightly, and a shimmering layer of moisture flickered across his eyes.
Appearing completely unaware of the heavy gaze weighing down on him from above, he meticulously cleaned the wound and applied medicinal powder. Sensing the sudden contraction of the prince’s muscles, he offered a gentle reassurance: “Your Highness, it will be finished shortly.”
His icy, jade-smooth fingers worked deftly, wrapping clean bandages round after round. Like the youth himself, his actions were meticulous and flawless—even the bandaging looked far neater than if anyone else had done it.
As Lin Yao leaned in close, their skin nearly touching, the man’s deep, velvet voice resonated above his head, carrying a faint, deadly chill: “Yao, do you know who was the very first person I met when I returned to the palace today?”
Lin Yao shook his head, whispering softly, “I do not know.”
“It was my second brother.” A low chuckle echoed in Cody’s chest. He raised a hand, delicately picking up a strand of black hair that had fallen when Lin Yao leaned forward, and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss.
“People say that black is the color of the devil. Yet you alone are different. On you, this black hair is more beautiful than dark jade. You are Onassis’s finest priest. The people can accept that their great priest possesses unprecedented black hair because, even behind a mask, he is pure, sacred, and desired by all. Do you know what request he made of me?”
The young priest’s fingers stiffened slightly. Even behind the silver mask, his eyes were impossibly captivating. A flicker of hesitation crossed his gaze, as if he already knew what had been asked, yet he spoke firmly and decisively: “Your Highness, I belong to you.”
“Oh? But I seem to recall you telling Kathy that you belong to the Sanctuary, and to no man,” Cody replied, his words striking like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky.
Three days ago, Cody hadn’t even been in the palace. Lin Yao had been particularly careful to ensure no one else was nearby besides Kathy. Was it Kathy who had told him, or had this man known all along?
Securing the end of the bandage, Lin Yao knelt and stepped back, bowing deeply. “Your Highness, those were merely words to turn away the Second Prince. I was brought back by you; naturally, I belong to you.”
“Is that so?” Cody sat up slowly, lifting the young priest’s chin with his fingers.
The pristine white silk wrapped around his form seemed almost inferior to the radiant beauty of his skin. Even without looking at the face beneath the mask, this body alone could easily be called peerless.
Grasping Lin Yao’s wrist, Cody pulled the youth directly into his embrace. Scorching breath brushed against Lin Yao’s earlobe as the prince spoke softly, like a devil whispering temptation: “Then, how about offering yourself to me? You belong to me, not to the gods, don’t you?”
Small, nibbling kisses spread from his earlobe, trailing down his neck. The young priest’s skin was impossibly fair and delicate; even the gentlest kiss left behind a vivid, beautiful blush.
Yet Lin Yao’s hands pushed weakly against his chest in resistance. “Your Highness, please don’t! I cannot.”
“Cannot what? Cannot lose your divine power?” Cody raised his head, looking down into those shimmering, tear-filled eyes, letting out a careless laugh. “Yao, I have no shortage of priests. If you say you belong to me, you must prove your sincerity.”
His breath burned hot against the youth’s skin, yet his eyes remained entirely devoid of lust.
“Your Highness, my own fate does not matter, but I cannot allow myself to bring condemnation upon you,” the young priest murmured, his gaze filled with complete devotion. The very eyes that looked upon others with icy detachment now held only pure, unadulterated concern for him—even as his body trembled uncontrollably.