Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 268 - 268 136 Moonlight Knight_2

268: Chapter 136 Moonlight Knight_2 268: Chapter 136 Moonlight Knight_2 “Ah~♪…”

The female poet, with a beguiling smile, surprisingly rose and sauntered to the soldiers’ table, her hand suggestively resting on the warrior leader’s shoulder, her head tilted flirtatiously.

“Don’t mind me, but let me offer you some more passionate poems, you don’t mind if I sit closer to sing, do you~?

I can entertain you with more than just my voice~”

“Do you have a side business?

That’s interesting.” Hearing her brazen implication, the soldier leader caught a whiff of the beauty’s fragrance, which warmed his heart.

He smiled in delight, rapidly pushing away his comrades to make room for the curvaceous female poet.

This tavern had no dancers, and in Lord Pendragon’s territory, soldiers normally wouldn’t dare to act rashly with the local tavern maids.

They usually had to satisfy their needs by returning to the camp women’s tents at the supply base, but…

the local laws in Selva didn’t particularly restrict such voluntary solicitations.

The soldiers at the table suddenly became enthusiastic, no longer much interested in drinking, lamenting only that the female poet didn’t sit beside them.

“Excuse my forwardness, madam, how much for one night?

You’re so beautiful, I’m not sure I can afford the price.” The soldier leader was drunken—not from the wine but the encounter—as he fumbled with his hands, politely inquiring about the price.

“As long as you can keep me company and chat, the price is negotiable.” The female poet leaned in, smiling, and said, “To confide in you, I am new to these parts and seeking an opportunity to perform poetry for the local nobility.

Do you gentlemen know anything about that Lord Pendragon…?”

…

Not far from the soldier’s table, Magrina sneakily watched the female poet’s provocative cajoling of the men, then shyly lowered her gaze and sped up her eating.

From that angle, she could just see how the soldiers took their liberties with her.

This was but a minor spectacle; traveling all the way from Kantadar, staying in various inns and taverns, the noble maiden had witnessed many eye-opening and stimulating scenes among the common folk.

“Let’s go upstairs to our room and rest,” Larian suggested to his companion, having no choice but to turn away from the increasingly vulgar scene emerging there.

Magrina nodded hastily.

Larian quickly shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth, not particularly concerned about the female poet’s safety.

Not to mention she was willingly “fishing for a living,” he doubted that a few soldiers could pose any threat to her, given her hidden true skills.

Having dispatched his dinner in no time, he escorted the girl back to their room, away from the increasingly lively noise and teasing laughter inside the tavern.

After a quick wash, Larian placed his sword within easy reach by the bed, then lay down, cuddling close to the girl as they slowly drifted into sleep.

…In the presence of each other’s breathing, time stealthily passed.

But as night fell…

The two who should have been in deep slumber, instead woke up mid-way and had difficulty falling back asleep.

In the darkness, Magrina’s cheeks blushed, instinctively snuggling closer to Larian.

Larian’s heart also accelerated, his chest full of warmth.

Just above where they lay, through the inn’s bedroom walls…

The noise of the creaking bed that woke them was intense.

The faint “singing” that came along was similarly uninhibited; even Magrina could hear it through the wall.

And Larian, with a warrior’s keen hearing, could make it out clearly; the passionate female voice belonged to the female poet they had seen downstairs, with the soldier leader energetically accompanying her.

They’d never expected that tonight, the neighboring room would be occupied with such activities.

Larian and Magrina lay awake in the dark, forced to listen to the debauchery on the other side of the wall; the noble maiden seemed somewhat inflamed by the neighbors, coyly teasing her lover with a tender touch.

…On the other side…

Their resonating ardor gradually subsided.

The female poet, still clinging to the soldier leader, asked in her still-breathless, seductive voice, “The large house in the center of the village…

isn’t that the lord’s mansion?…Why is it always so heavily guarded?

Whose residence might it be?

Am I fortunate enough to be granted an audience and perform there…”

“Lady…

Urgh~!

Ah…

I think it’s…the lady’s…

I heard the lord mention…

the lady…”

The soldier leader was lost in ecstasy, his eyes vaguely reflecting streaks of purple light.

“The lady?

Whose lady?” the female poet asked, tightening her embrace, probing further, “Lord Leon’s wife?”

“Maybe…

not…

I don’t know…

I…I only heard respect for the lady’s title…

I…I…”

Suddenly, like someone choked him, the soldier leader’s eyes rolled up, and he lost consciousness, collapsing onto the bed.

With a silent sigh, the female poet pushed him away and climbed out of bed.

Putting on her clothes, she pondered the information gained.

A supply camp to the east of Selva…

Had Thorny Flower’s troops entered the Nightmare Forest from there?

A lady living in Selva, but whose?

Leon’s?

The female poet buckled her belt, sitting on the bed, deep in thought.

She had met the woman housekeeper, Elena, who was definitely not Leon’s wife.

So, could it be that the young knight’s family lived in that large house in the village?

No wonder the guards were so stringent; it was very likely.

Should she go and see?

There might be a chance.

Having made a swift decision, the female poet got up and approached the window.

She gently pushed open the window, braced herself on the frame, and with a graceful leap, dove into the night…