"They are with you?" Sylas hurriedly knelt up properly.
He looked at Celeste with wide, pleading eyes.
For the first time in his life—a life of privilege and lofty status—a hint of a fawning, ingratiating smile appeared on his face.
Yes, even when facing the Queen of Lyonesse, it had been with the propriety between ruler and subject.
Now, his expression was one of sycophancy and flattery.
It was an expression he had once despised most.
"Your Grace, Duchess..." He didn't dare touch her, just looked at her, softly calling out her title again and again. Like a white cat begging for pity.
"Mmm, I'm here." Celeste felt a ticklish sensation in her heart from his demeanor, but her tone remained calm.
"Your Grace... could you spare my family's lives? As slaves, as servants, anything. Just let us live."
Celeste suddenly smiled. "Why should I?"
A flush of pink appeared on her somewhat pale face, and then she covered her mouth with her hand and began to cough. "Cough, cough..."
Sylas thought she had choked. But Celeste knew it was her own excitement.
She took out a handkerchief, wiped her mouth, glanced at Sylas, and said evenly, "Do we have any friendship between us?"
"..." Sylas lowered his head, unsure how to answer.
The previous fawning had been done by mustering all his courage. Begging a complete stranger was incredibly difficult.
He had never begged anyone in his life.
"Cough, cough..." Celeste coughed again.
She gave a wicked grin, then put it away, her expression turning pained.
"Ah, actually, I do think you're quite pitiful, and I really want to help you. But... cough..." She started dry-coughing incessantly.
"Your Grace, just tell me. Whatever you want me to do, I'll cooperate," Sylas said frantically.
"Is that so?" Celeste smoothed her breathing; pretending to cough was truly uncomfortable.
She looked at Sylas and said with great seriousness, "I actually have consumption. It's contagious. I want to infect you. I want you to get sick with me."
Sylas looked at her earnest expression and thought she must be speaking madness.
But then, he gave a miserable smile, slumped his head, and said, "Fine. I'll keep you company..."
Celeste hadn't expected him to agree so quickly. She asked in surprise, "Really? Aren't you afraid of death? This is consumption."
Sylas: "If I could die, I'd dash my brains out right now..."
"Consumption is very torturous, you know." Celeste moved her chair closer.
Her expression was soft, but her eyes were excited. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." Thinking of his mother and sister, Sylas's face was resolute.
Whatever she wanted him to do, he would agree.
"Alright then. We'll be fellow patients from now on. You have to listen to me, and I will protect your family."
"Good! I will definitely listen!" Sylas hurriedly replied with an ingratiating smile.
"So, how can I infect you? Let me think..." Celeste stroked her chin, then had a sudden realization. "I've heard saliva can spread consumption. So... how do you think would be appropriate?"
Sylas stared at her blankly.
His previous fawning gradually turned into a forced smile, then finally into indifference.
His body relaxed, and he knelt before Celeste, forcing a smile. "Your Grace, if you want to play, just play. There's no need for these boring tricks..."
He saw through it. This Celeste was just finding an excuse to take advantage.
Why bother? If you want to do it, just do it. Don't be so scheming!
Celeste's heart skipped a beat.
He saw through me? Not surprising for the strategist of Lyonesse. He understands immediately.
It seems you've been played through and through!
But can't you, clever as you are, be a little smarter and not ruin this bit of fun?
Celeste, however, showed no embarrassment at being found out.
She said seriously, "Lord Sylas, you know what my position is now, correct?"
Sylas's throat tightened. Honestly, he had been a bit flustered and forgot to play along.
Too clever for his own good.
Now realizing his mistake, he hurriedly apologized. "Your Grace, I—"
Celeste raised her hand. "Don't worry about me being angry first. I'm not that petty. I want to talk business.
I am currently the Governor of Lorynth, clearly the heir presumptive! I am the successor to the throne!
But... cough..." She pretended to cough again, then showed a greedy expression. "But... I want to go further..."
"You want to advance?" Sylas instantly became alert, his breathing growing rapid.
This is a court struggle in Aethelred? He sensed a thick air of conspiracy.
Celeste wants to usurp the throne!
Yes, even though they were sisters, in power struggles, even mothers and daughters could turn on each other, let alone sisters.
Celeste's position seemed powerful but was also the most awkward. Because Isolde was so young. The moment she had a child, Celeste would be cast aside. A child was always closer than a sister.
But power was something you couldn't let go of once you touched it. You had to keep climbing.
You couldn't stop even if you wanted to; your supporters would force you up. There was never a way back.
It was normal for Celeste to have such thoughts.
His mind raced, and suddenly the idea of sowing discord arose.
If I can plunge Aethelred into civil war, that would be my revenge on Isolde!
Celeste continued, "My sister likes you very much. So, if I infect you, and you infect her... then she won't have long to live!"
"But then you..." Sylas thought of a flaw.
Wouldn't you both die young if you both got sick?
She said, "I have a secret method to treat it. If things work out, I guarantee that you and your family will be safe."
He quickly agreed: "Your Grace! I want the consumption!"
"Ah, but..." Celeste adopted a hesitant look again. "After saying all that, I feel hesitant. My sister has been good to me, and here I am plotting against her. I feel guilty."
Sylas urgently persuaded her: "There's no need for guilt! This is how power is. If you don't climb up, you'll be pulled down. It's inevitable!
So... let's start, alright? I'm afraid I might not get sick."
"Should I spit on you? And you... swallow it?"
"..."
Is that how consumption spreads? How disgusting!
Suppressing his nausea, Sylas forced a smile. "Maybe... maybe another way? A kiss?"
Celeste quickly shook her head. "No, no! You belong to my sister. I want the throne, but I don't want to cuckold her."
"It's fine! Really, it's fine!" Sylas couldn't help but grab her skirt, saying excitedly, "It won't be cuckolding!
Isolde sent Jade to sleep with me! She's already used to it!
I'm just a toy now. Anyone can play with me."
In his desperation, he began to objectify himself.
Celeste couldn't help but laugh. "So debased now, are you?"
It had to be said, watching the formerly noble lord now bowing and scraping, begging for her attention, was immensely satisfying.
Sylas offered an embarrassed, ingratiating smile. "A little bit..."
Celeste said impatiently, "What do you mean, 'a little bit'? I don't like it. When you speak to me, don't be evasive. It affects our grand plan! Don't you want revenge on my sister?"
Hearing this, Sylas felt a surge of adrenaline.
He said with great seriousness, "Alright. I am now extremely, extremely debased. Treated the same as a kitten or a puppy. Your Grace, have pity on me. Give me your consumption..."
Celeste laughed, her body shaking with mirth, almost wanting to say, Is that all the cunning you have?
But she quickly controlled her laughter.
A consumptive couldn't laugh so happily.
She pretended to cough a few more times, then said, "Come on. Teach me how to kiss. I don't know how."