Author's Notes:

1. Just explaining a bit further. "Your Royal Highness" is the nearest English equivalent honorific for Huang Taizi 皇太子 or Great Imperial Son, the heir-apparent of a currently reigning Emperor. As the prince's personal attendant, Mark is supposed to be a Eunuch 宦官but since it is the modern times, the traditional castration is no longer practiced. The name Hana (Tserriednich's OC fiancée) is translated as "flower" in Japanese and "one" in Korean. It's kind of like a wordplay based on the lore of Fatal Frame: Maiden of Black Water (love this game 3) and in reference to the names of the eight queens of King Nasubi Hui Guo Rou.

2. In this story, everyone on Tserriednich's entourage survives the Dark Continent and comes home with him.

3. This chapter's mid to later parts are very yaoi-ish so please be warned.

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Chapter 2: Lake (澤)

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For all their best efforts, Tserriednich's "practice sessions" the next day were just as unsuccessful as the first five. The prince was getting angrier by the minute, evidenced by the disarrayed state of limbs of the last four women Mark had prepared for him. As expected, all were dead but more alarming was the fact that Tserriednich hadn't even reached thirty minutes before decapitating each woman to death.

"Perhaps the fault was entirely mine, Your Royal Highness," he explained, attempting to lessen the prince's burden. "The preparations weren't sufficient enough and the subjects were not briefed thoroughly."

Tserriednich's eyes were closed, fingers massaging his temples. "Explain it to me." The obvious anger on the prince's voice was Mark's least concern. Tserriednich could kill him then and there for all he cared but the thought of his prince failing because of a mere servant's mistakes, hismistakes, was simply unforgivable.

Mark swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. "We need more stringent requirements than the ones we had. Intellectual and physical attributes alone were apparently insufficient to meet your criteria. What I understood was that you were unsatisfied because the subjects were all non-professionals."

"Non-professional whores. Is that what you're trying to say?"

As much as Mark hated to admit it, Tserriednich was correct. He could only nod in acquiescence. Tserriednich sighed in defeat, hands clenched. "Fine. But I don't want any of those low-class types, understand?"

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For the twelfth time, another test subject was dead. Mark was getting more anxious than ever, wondering what went wrong. He had selected the best courtesans from the most prestigious establishments but it didn't suffice. He considered everything to be his failure and contemplated going to a therapist to cure his growing depression. However, his prince's well-being must be prioritized before his own sense of self-worth and mental health.

He glanced at his prince, eyes looking distractedly at a potted plant in an expression that looked…sad. Mark was alarmed. Tserriednich never looked sad. Perhaps the whole fiasco is starting to take its toll on him.

"Your Royal Highness, I suppose we need to take a break before the next batch came."

"I can't afford to take another break. The wedding will be in five months' time."

Mark's fists clenched. The prince's voice sounded so quiet. There was another minute of silence which he did not dare to break.

"Say," Tserriednich started, eyes still glazed with over-thinking, "do you think I'm approaching this problem the wrong way?"

Mark succeeded in not making a sound but he could feel the sting of pain in his mouth as his gums bled due to the pressure of his teeth gnashing in anger. Only now did he truly felt so angry at himself that he wanted to die. He deserved to die. His prince's pride was suffering because his assistant was an inept bastard who couldn't do his job right. The worst part of all was that Tserriednich appeared to be blaming himself for it.

Tserriednich carried on. "I mean, come to think of it. I have killed everyone I have ever slept with. I have never even spent an entire night in bed with a living person. I guess it would be more feasible to just concentrate on spending the entire night with someone without actually doing anything with them. What do you think?"

The expectant look on the prince's eyes was like a punch to his gut but Mark managed a smile. "That's an excellent solution, sir. But for now, how about you try to relax and get some rest? As you have said earlier, we still have five months before the wedding proper."

"You're right. I guess I'd need to take it slow. I can't just use batch after batch of test subjects without any changes in our methodology. Really, we need to come up with fresher ideas to stop my hands from itching to kill every time I fuck somebody. Pretty women are like creatures begging me to kill them but I can't afford to have my Lady Hana dying on me." The prince took a small sip of the wine and thought for a moment. Mark expected to hear another idea from the prince but Tserriednich simply paused, eyes no longer glazed with thoughts but with a tiny spark of curiosity. To his surprise, the prince's hand reached out to him till one finger touched his assistant's lips. "You're bleeding."

Mark licked his lips and tasted the coppery tang of his dripping blood and, accidentally, a tiny portion of Tserriednich's skin. Of course he didn't lick the prince's finger on purpose. That would be very rude. Still he had a taste and it lifted his spirits. He hastily picked up some tissue paper and disinfectant to wipe the prince's hand with. "My deepest apologies, You Royal Highness."

Thankfully, the prince didn't mind Mark's transgression and simply leaned back to his chair. "I guess you're just as stressed out as I am. Go unload your stress out so we can brainstorm more effectively tomorrow."

"Whatever pleases you, Your Royal Highness," he replied with a bow.

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Mark pumped his hips as fast as he could. It could even be called desperate, if one liked the perspective of an emotional prick. He couldn't care less. His partner was moaning hotly in his mouth and he was determined to take it all in. The sensation of someone's screams being muffled by kisses was something that never failed to arouse him.

His grip on his partner's wrists loosened up a bit as he started to caress the latter's palms. His left hand travelled downwards, gently gripping one of those long legs splayed apart in surrender and bucking it up as his thrusts grew faster and harder. The man underneath him was moaning so adorably that Mark couldn't stop himself from biting those lips hard and then sucking it softly to soothe away the pain.

The details were quite hazy and the room very dark but Mark knew from the voice alone that his partner was a man. The most telling sign however was how the orifice his sex was vigorously pumping into was not self-lubricating.

He could spend days lamenting how he had gone from a high society man who preferred high society ladies into this – a horny animal fucking a man with straight long hair because that was the only way he could compensate himself for not being able to fuck the prince he was supposedly tasked to protect and serve. It was quite pathetic. That aside though, this man was pretty good. Never mind that Mark was the one doing all the work.

His arms slowly wrapped around his partner's body, gently lifting him up and laying him atop the neglected bunch of pillows. His mouth left the latter's lips and made small kisses on the side of his face, his eyelids, his chin and down to his neck. He proceeded to lift both of the man's legs to spread them even wider as he continued the pounding.

Mark could feel the sensations carrying him higher and higher until at last, he cried out, sheathing himself fully and spilling himself deep inside his partner. Gasping, he laid still, his face buried on the crook of the man's neck. He paused for a while, catching his breath. He felt his strength slowly returning to his muscles as his mind slowly descended back into reality.

As slowly and as gently as he possibly could, he pulled out his softening member and kissed the man's shoulder in appreciation. From the slickness he felt on their stomachs, Mark surmised that the appreciation had been mutual. That realization gave him some sort of a giddy feeling.

Reaching out a hand to the side table, he turned the lamp on. It wasn't much but at least the room now had a lighter shade. He wanted to see this man's face at least before giving some him cash and some legitimate threats to guarantee his silence.

"Hey, Mark. You're pretty good at this. I'm impressed."

That voice sounded quite familiar. Mark turned sharply. Sprawled on the bed was no other than Tserriednich himself.

However this happened was mind-boggling but that was his least concern as he felt a cold chill ran up his spine. I'm dead. I'm very dead.

Somehow, the prospect of dying fueled the hardness forming on his crotch. His body was betraying him like crazy. He had just committed a grave crime against his prince and now he appeared to want to commit that same crime all over again.

However, the prince seemed to have a different idea. For all of Mark's embarrassment, Tserriednich simply looked at his sex standing up on full alert.

"Well, since your little guy is so inclined, how about you try to impress me some more?"

Mark swallowed hard. Did the prince really mean that?

His member was getting painfully hard. "Your Royal Highness…"

"Your job is to serve me, is it not? I'm ordering you to serve me now. Don't make me wait."

Throwing all caution to wherever he could throw it, Mark jumped back onto the bed and pulled Tserriednich into a long, hard kiss.

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There was a pain in his gut that forced Mark's eyes open. A blurry face hovering above him gradually took shape. To his dismay, it wasn't Tserriednich. It was an ugly, frowning mug.

"You idiot!" Sarkov hissed. "What were you thinking sleeping like a fucking baby while on duty?"

It was all a dream? If it were, it was quite some stupid cliché. Mark rubbed his eyes and sat up from the couch. He was in the outer room of the prince's quarters. The bodyguards and some attendants were all over the place, faces looking at him like he sprouted two heads. Mark opted to act innocent. "I was relaxing as per His Royal Highness' instructions," he casually replied stretching his neck from left to right.

Sarkov's forehead vein throbbed while his fists clenched even more. "Did His Royal Highness also instruct you to have some horny dreams and moan loudly while you relax?"

"Apparently, you had a wet dream, you pervert," Theta scolded. "What are you? A teenager or something?" She wrinkled her nose. "You stink."

Oops. He was too late to realize the slick wetness on his crotch. Some portion of the white tent seeped out of his silk pants and shone like a bitch's pooling spit. "Wow. That's quite a lot," he deadpanned making Sarkov angrier than ever. Theta and Danjin just looked at him like he was stupid while Muhan giggled uncontrollably like an idiot. He shrugged.

So that really was just a dream, huh. Of course it was a dream. If it weren't, he wouldn't be waking up like this. Instead, his skin or some fancy body part would be the only thing left of him, displayed on one of Tserriednich's custom-made picture frames.

He stood up not even bothering to cover his soiled pants. "Very well. I'll be cleaning up."

I'm so pathetic.

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tbc