Extra's Harem: Invincibility Starts with Marriage and lots of Children Chapter 45 - 45- Second Queen

The Second Queen’s palace stood apart from the main palace, nestled at the far end of the royal grounds, a place where few dared to enter unless summoned.

Unlike the bustling main palace, where ministers and nobles moved like swarming ants, this place was eerily quiet, bathed in golden lantern light that barely reached the towering black pillars lining the corridors.

Maid walked carefully, her soft shoes making no noise against the polished marble floor.

The hem of her uniform brushed against her ankles, damp from the evening’s humidity.

She kept her hands clasped in front of her, fingers tightening slightly as she neared the Queen’s chambers.

The deeper into the palace she went, the more suffocating the air beca.

The scent of burning incense—rich, spiced, and cloying—mixed with sothing heavier, sothing tallic that made the back of her throat tighten. It clung to the walls, to the silk curtains, to her very skin.

The guards standing outside the Queen’s doors barely glanced at her. They never spoke unless spoken to.

They never lingered after their shift. Everyone in the palace knew that those who got too close to the Queen’s secrets never lasted long.

Taking a deep breath, Maid stopped before the grand double doors. Even before she knocked, she heard it.

pah pah pah

Soft, wet sounds. Flesh eting flesh.

"...ha...v...e m..erc..."

Low, guttural groans, dragged out as if the n inside weren’t sure if they were moaning in pleasure or pain.

Maid’s stomach twisted.

She knocked lightly, her voice steady despite the unease coiling in her gut. "Your Majesty, I bring urgent news."

No response.

pah pah pah

The noises continued.

The rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the deep gasps that grew weaker, less controlled. Then a desperate, shuddering exhale—like the last breath of a man who had nothing left to give.

A heartbeat later, the Queen’s voice ca through the door, breathy yet commanding. "Wait."

Maid exhaled quietly and lowered her gaze. She was used to waiting.

Inside, the room was bathed in golden candlelight, their flickering glow reflecting off damp, sweat-slicked skin.

The Queen straddled the last of her lovers for the night, her long nails raking over his trembling chest as she rode him with slow, deliberate movents.

His body was a ss—his muscled arms, once firm, now hung limply at his sides.

His chest rose and fell in shallow, unsteady breaths, his skin glistening with sweat, the veins on his neck bulging as if straining against sothing unseen.

His cock twitched weakly inside her, spilling the last of his seed as his body spasd one final ti. A strangled moan escaped his lips—one of mindless bliss and utter exhaustion.

His eyes, once sharp and full of hunger, were now hollow, clouded over as if the very life had been sucked out of him.

Beside them, the first man was already gone. His body lay sprawled across the silk sheets, his limbs unnaturally stiff, his reddened, spent cock still twitching even in death.

His lips were parted slightly, as if he had died in a moan, yet there was no warmth left in his flesh.

His face, once flushed with arousal, was now disturbingly pale, his skin stretched too tight over his bones.

Their bodies told the story of their final monts—ecstasy blurred into agony, pleasure into lifelessness.

The Queen sighed, stretching her limbs as the last of the energy drained from the man beneath her. His cock slipped free from her soaked folds, now soft and lifeless, a thin trail of his release dripping onto the sheets.

She ran a hand down her own body, feeling the raw power coursing beneath her skin, the stolen vitality settling into her veins.

This was why no man ever left her bed alive.

With lazy grace, she slid off the corpse, stepping over the tangled ss of limbs without sparing them a second glance.

The cold marble sent a pleasant shiver up her feet, which were warm due to the surge of internal energy derived from cauldrons, as she made her way to the vanity, where a sheer silk robe awaited her.

She pulled it over her shoulders, the fabric barely hiding her skin.

A knock sounded again, softer this ti. Maid.

The Queen picked up a comb, running it through her damp hair once before tossing it onto the vanity. Then, with one final glance at the cooling bodies on her bed, she called out—

"Enter."

The door creaked open, and Maid stepped inside, eyes lowered as she moved swiftly to the Queen’s side.

She knelt gracefully, picking up the silver comb with steady hands, though the scent in the air made her stomach twist.

The heavy musk of sex and sweat. And beneath it, sothing darker.

The Queen sat before the mirror, her expression serene as Maid carefully began combing through her long, silken hair.

"Speak," the Queen commanded, her voice smooth, as if she hadn’t just drained the life from two n monts ago.

Maid swallowed, her fingers trembling slightly against the comb. "The Ducal Prince Kyle Arcutus had just visited the Empress Dowager’s palace."

The Queen’s gaze darkened slightly, though she remained relaxed. "Why?"

Maid kept her eyes down, focusing on her task. The Queen’s hair was warm beneath her fingers, as if still pulsing with stolen life. "He went there to give her the wedding invitation."

"Just a formality," the Queen murmured, almost lazily. "No need to ponder about it."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Maid finished combing the Queen’s hair and set the comb aside.

But—

A noise.

It started as a faint disturbance, distant but urgent. Footsteps—rapid, uneven—echoed from the corridor beyond her doors. The Queen’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Then, a sudden thud!

A fist slamd against the doors, hard enough to rattle the golden handles. The guards outside stirred, but before they could react, a voice cut through the silence.

"Mother! It’s urgent, let enter!"

Maid’s hand trembled slightly against the comb, her breath catching in her throat. She lowered her gaze further, her heart pounding.

The Queen, however, remained unbothered. She rely exhaled through her nose, tapping a single nail against the wooden vanity.

"…Prince Alden," she murmured, recognizing the voice at once. Her youngest son. And by the sound of it, he was panicked.

Another hard knock. The door shook.

"Mother, open the door! It’s important!"

The Queen let out a slow, asured sigh. "What happened?" she finally asked, her voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber.

The maid continued combing, though her fingers grew tense against the Queen’s scalp due to knowing the atrocities and behavior inflicted upon her by this prince.

A guard’s voice, muffled through the doors, attempted to calm the prince. "Your Highness, Her Majesty is not to be disturbed at this hour—"

"I don’t care!" Alden’s voice cracked, his desperation evident. "Mother, you need to kill Kyle! He’s dangerous!"

The words hung in the air, thick with urgency.

Maid’s hands stilled hearing the na about which she had co here.

The Queen’s gaze flickered too due to the sa reason.

Alden had always been impulsive, but this… this was sothing else.

For the first ti that night, a flicker of genuine interest crossed her face.

She leaned forward slightly, her robe completely covering her body while her hand touched a button on the table, leading to both n lying on the bed suddenly falling out of bed within secret passages. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she reached for the comb in Maid’s hands and took it for herself.

The maid imdiately stepped back, bowing her head low.

"Kyle…" she murmured, her tone unreadable as she heard this na twice today, with the room’s sll vanishing and replaced by incense and the bodies already disappearing without a trace, she turned towards the door.

And, finally—

"Let him in."