The Conquerors Bloodline - Chapter 284: The Search for Something

She’d heard the buzzing, on and on it rang out through the suite. They were seconds apart, sometimes minutes but it was always there. Reverberating through the walls like the thrumming of a tuning fork that had just been hit. At first, she hadn’t thought anything of it, maybe Parc and that Blake girl were heavy sleepers and were just ignoring it, but there had to be a limit no?

After near an hour of listening to the buzz of a scroll rumble numerous times then halt only to start up moments later, she couldn’t take it anymore. Marigold bit her lip and lifted herself from the bed she’d been so kindly given, as the blanket fell, she shivered and realized she was still half-naked from that massage Parc had given her.

Almost having crossed her arms over her chest to hide her breasts, Marigold quickly calmed, telling herself that Parc wasn’t in the room, nor was Blake. So hiding anything would just be pointless.

Marigold eyed around the room, soon finding her clothes neatly stacked and folded not far away. ‘Blake probably…’ folding laundry just didn’t seem like something Parc would do. As she slid her feet off the bed and onto the ground, she became suddenly aware of something off…

Her body, it didn’t ache.

That pain of bruises and sore bones just wasn’t there. If anything she felt flexible and nimble. Like she could twist and contort herself or even run a marathon without clutching her side feeling like her stomach was about to rip itself out of her body. She looked down to her body, between her voluminous breasts and was left agape at her spotless skin.

She trailed one hand to her thigh where the most painful bruise had been and stroked her finger apprehensively across her skin like she was expecting a thick layer of foundation to suddenly rub off and reveal her wounds beneath. Yet, it didn’t. It didn’t even hurt as she pushed her finger deeper into her thigh until her flesh swallowed her digit up to the first joint.

Her mouth hung wide, ‘this shouldn’t be possible she thought. She didn’t even have an aura, unless… ‘did he unlock it?’ it was the only thing that made sense. Aura’s were by far the only thing that could heal a body so rapidly… then again, so could a semblance but what are the chances he or that girl would have such a rare semblance?

It made no feasible sense to her.

Marigold flattened her hand over her thigh and wetted her lips nervously. Wishing that this healing was more than just a fabrication of her mind coping with Bleu’s abandonment.

Lifting herself to her feet at another soft buzz muffled by the walls and doors, Marigold made haste to her clothing at a speed she’d never been able to take in the last decade or two, and swiftly dressed herself to hide her body like she always did.

Dressed, she made way to the door and gently twisted the knob and opened it. She peered through the small gap that formed and saw only darkness, it hadn’t been hours since she had arrived in their room, and that had been near sundown.

Seeing no activity, Marigold latched to Bleu’s parting words. ‘Find dirt on the boy, anything. I don’t care what, just find it.’ He had sounded so incredibly fearful when he spoke those words. Not his usual high tone, but it was lower and even colder than how he usually looked at her. For once it looked like he actually needed her for something other than sex.

Creaking open the door, Marigold slid betwixt the thin gap and crept her gaze across the room. For as dark as it was, she could still make out the rough outlines of things and whatnots. The moon was unhindered so high above the clouds so the light it cast easily peered through the windows and gave this ghostly shade of blue to the scene.

There wasn’t much around, at least, not things she thought were brought in by those two. The towel and that swimming trunk and bikini hanging over the chairs by the dining table. Otherwise, there was exceptionally little dotted about that even remotely showed their ownership of things.

Marigold glanced over her shoulder and into her room, if she looked around fast enough and carefully enough, she could quickly get back and see if there was anything interesting in there without risking waking those two up.

When she looked back she bit her tongue and calmed her breathing. She didn’t like sneaking around. It just seemed like something that would get her hit again, but it’s what Bleu wants. Creeping slowly through the room, she searched around for anything of interest, anything that Bleu would consider dirt but saw nothing of interest. She recalled that satchel Parc always had on his hip, could something be in there? He didn’t seem awfully protective of it but each time she saw him he had it with him like there was something special about what was in it. If she could find that, scour through it, maybe Bleu would take her back…

The further she walked, form low and unassuming, the less she came across. Baring the odd book and swimming trunks and bikinis and towels, there wasn’t even a laptop or a piece of paper that said anything interesting… Well, there was one book, Ninja’s of Love, which after a quick skim Marigold had snapped shut and returned to its place on the couch before moving on with a rosy tint to her cheeks.

“Young people nowadays have strange interest,” she muttered and hearing another jingling buzz of a scroll, darted her head to its origin. Another room, the second bedroom of the Emperor’s suite. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating to take in more radiant light in the darkness, she was able to see that the door to the room was wide opened.

One brow rose confusedly, normally people didn’t sleep with their doors wide. Especially not a couple on a retreat with someone else not far away. That was just asking for their neighbours to hear them having sex. Thoughts raced by, dragging her to the side of the doorway and to peek her head over the edge and into the room. Like everything else, it was a pitch of black inside but one thing cast light.

On the bedside table was a scroll, no, she didn’t know what that was. It was thin and rectangular, almost like a scroll, except it looked like it was built in such a way that it didn’t have a retractable screen. She racked her memories, recalling faintly how many years ago, not too far before her time growing up that there had been machines like scrolls called phones. Since technology had caught up with them, those machines had faded into obscurity.

‘Must prefer antiques?’ she couldn’t be certain on that. Not just yet.

The light the phone was casting lit up the barest bit of the room. Just enough that she could see nothing but a neatly set bed, empty of occupants. Marigold quirked her head around, searching the room then searching the lounge but still couldn’t find a trace of where those two had gone off to but found nothing. Something she was expecting would be an all too common occurrence for her

Hands trembling, Marigold hyped herself up with a few small mental words and pushed herself into the room. Each step was cautious to not cause a noise as she kept her presence as weak as she could. All the while dancing her focus here and there just searching for noises that told her where Parc and Blake were.

Once she arrived by the bedside with the phone, she also noticed the satchel laid on the floor just beside it and gulped. Perfect, hopefully, whatever was in there would make Bleu happy so this whole charade could end.

She didn’t immediately go for it. Instead, she reached out for the phone and gingerly plucked it off the counter. It was heavy, more so than any scroll she’d ever held. There were buttons on the sides that she was tempted to press but refrained from doing. Noting the lack of a keyboard of sorts, she accurately predicted the machine would be a touchscreen and poked it right at the centre.

The light that had flickered out not seconds prior, revived. Filling the room once more with light ad making Marigold flinch away as the light struck her eyes dead centre. A few blinks later and she was able to look down at the screen and see numerous things. Apps galore, little square boxes filled with numerous things showed up all across the screen. Most she didn’t know what they were for, but some like the compass and clock were abundantly clear.

At the top of the screen, she could see a few small flashing icons. Minute if anything, guessing they were the alerts for those noises, she poked it and watched a small box fall only to just as quickly return to hiding up top. She poked it again, though this time held it and swiped down, locking the box on the screen and opened a new tab.

There wasn’t much to it except the word ‘Alerts’ in the top left and beneath that, a namesake alert labelled, ‘Aurora has uploaded an image (25)’ with the boon of an added date and time. But that’s not possible, Marigold shook her head. This ship was so far out of range for the CCTS towers that any messages were just impossible to retrieve. And yet, here this phone was, receiving not one, but twenty-five of them.

Marigold licked her lips and dashed her eyes to the door, expecting Parc to come blaring in like a bat from hell to punish her for snooping. But she had to… right? This is all for Bleu, to make him happy.

She bit her lip white until she felt her teeth were soon to cut through her flesh and with a shaky finger, pressed the alert. It didn’t take more than a second for the screen to shift and a message board to open. Seconds passed as she watched image after image opens up on the screen, it took seconds more for her to realize what they were about.

The moment she did though, she flushed a shade of deep red. Half tempted was she to slam the machine down on the counter, but she simply couldn’t. There was something about those images, those dirty, dirty images of two girls, one of them being Blake the other… Marigold had to rack her brain to realize it was the captain, both riding on something quite monstrous.

They weren’t just having sex or the like, Marigold would be hard-pressed to call what they were doing ‘just’ sex. Intercourse like that, it was messy and they were glazed in white, practically smiling giddily as a video played with both girls on their knee’s, wallowing as Parc—she presumed—rapidly stroked his girthy manhood and sent off a few thick spurts of his cum across their faces. Even before the seed landed on their bodies, they were already soiled, hair matted and skin wet with sweat and cum that had gone watery over time.

It was a horrible sight for Marigold. It heated her cheeks and made her uncomfortable down there. Those girls looked to actually be enjoying it. Like sex with him was actually pleasurable.

Her left hand gravitated to her lap as she thumbed up the screen and scrolled through the picture before it. Each left the girls dirty, but just as well that dirt was fading until the first image was them once more on their knee’s, cleaner than before but just as covered in white streaks of a man’s protein.

Marigold bit her tongue, eyes trembling then quickly shook her head as a quiver ran somewhere it shouldn’t. She turned the screen away from herself, slapping the machine flat on the bedside she tried to catch her breath and focus on something other than those images. Blake… she looked so horrible… so dirty yet just as well, she looked so happy with those euphoria encrusted eyes that rolled as she laid with her head in the Captain’s lap and Parc’s cock parting her labia.

‘No, no. I’m married, stop that!’ she screeched to herself and buried her hand in her face. She then looked down to the satchel beside the bed and her lip trembled. She still had to go through it, but she didn’t have the heart to do it after that. There was just too much uncomfortability in her loins to even push herself to do that.

So she rose, staring at the phone filled with those debauched pictures whose images were as clear as a movie running in front of her, and made quick work to return to her room. There she swept up the sheets and sunk into the plush fabric, uncaring that she was still wrapped in her dress.

That night she couldn’t sleep, she listened as the door creaked shut nearly ten minutes after her return. Parc’s footsteps were heavier than usual and there wasn’t a second set. Was Blake not with him? Or could he be carrying her? Those types of thoughts ran amok like a hundred little children left to their devices in her head.

Not long after that did she hear footsteps approaching her door. She sucked in a breath and clenched her eyes, no that’s too hard, he’ll know she’s forcing it. The latch clicked and the door creaked just slightly, a faint shade of night light billowed in as a head pushed through the doorway and looked to her coddled form nestled softly beneath the blanket only to retract when he saw nothing of note.

With him gone, Marigold puffed out a nervous breath but instantly regretted it. Though faint, there was this stench that was all the more notable to her. It was something she had smelt for many years, had it ingrained into her body by force and will not her own.

That of musk, both man and women.

It was the alluring stench of unrepentant and animalistic sex.