Lewd King's Bucket List

Despair's deadpan expression morphed into a look of quiet contentment.

'His face pisses me off.'

The little bastard had pushed Ixion's boundaries and measured just how far the lunatic king would go. It was through their interaction in the garden that it had been semi-confirmed that Despair would have free rein to study the Chest.

Not that Ixion was intent on letting that happen without repercussions.

In fact…

'I should steal his key before I leave for Praxis, shouldn't I?'

He'd already been planning to do just that, but now he had a secondary motive.

Despair, mightily pleased with himself, began to slowly rise, but Ixion gestured for him to stay.

"Before you go, dear bastard, I have something I wish to ask."

Despair tilted his head slightly.

"What point is there in asking something I'll assuredly deny you an answer to?"

"Will you now? I was only going to ask what my jester did to you—and how you two are connected."

Despair's eyes went wide as he shook like a bolt of lightning had just struck him.

"What?"

Tilting his head, Ixion shrugged.

"She'd been missing, and when she returned, she said, 'I was simply reminding old Despair to behave.'"

Despair's stoic facade collapsed as he shot to his feet.

"Did she now…"

Despair cast a glance over his shoulder at the rose garden.

"I'm afraid, my friend, I must be off."

Before Ixion could even reply, Despair took one step down the lofted gazebo and disappeared into the gentle breeze.

'Hmm… How peculiar.'

So, the jester had not appeared before Despair or done anything concrete that he had noticed yet. Yet, from Despair's reaction, it seemed he trusted the notion that the jester could give him the 'reminder to behave.'

What that reminder was? What was Despair doing that was different from what Sloth intended? What did the jester do?

Who knew?

Despite his vast wealth of knowledge, Ixion sure didn't.

Once again alone in the garden, Ixion began to stand when the grand door flung open.

'Ah! How popular I am!'

"Andrea! What brings you to me?"

The Grand Chancellor, her curly hair a little matted and disheveled, bowed and asked fervently:

"Your Majesty, who was it?"

"Now, now. It's Ixion, remember. And why does such a thing even matter? If the problem is solved, it's solved."

Andrea clenched her fist.

"It matters. Please… Ixion, tell me."

Ixion stepped off the gazebo and back onto the stone-paved path.

"Is it not obvious who the culprit was if I solved the problem so fast?"

Andrea ground her teeth and looked away.

"No… no, it's not obvious."

Ixion squinted as he took another step toward Andrea.

"Well, sadly, this is strictly guarded information." With a seductive tone, Ixion whispered, "Though there's a way or two to break down my walls."

Ignoring the salacious comment, Andrea said:

"At least… at least tell me if it was Duke Marlowe."

'Oh, hoh?'

Ixion's eyes widened.

'She suspected him?'

"Of course it wasn't that man! The epitome of nobility. Why would such a great man stoop so low?"

Andrea sighed deeply.

"Is that so? Thank you, Ixion."

Ixion took another step toward Andrea, a curious look plaguing his gaze,

"Now, why did you even suspect him of something so dastardly? I thought you respected him a great deal."

After a deep breath and a few moments of silence, letting her long hair blow in the wind, the Grand Chancellor responded:

"I didn't at first." Andrea looked away. "But I dug into all the nobles' backgrounds in my investigation—even his—and found quite an unsettling file buried deep within the archives. It was unmarked and cryptic."

Andrea's gaze drifted back to Ixion.

"That look on your face… you know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Why, of course I do. I was the one who helped sweep everything under the rug."

Andrea's fist tightened, then released.

"In that case, I have a question for you, Ixion. Why was that file there at all?"

Ixion smiled.

"For you to find it, of course. Though you found it much sooner than I expected you to have."

With a haughty laugh, Ixion walked past Andrea, heading for the door she had just entered from.

Andrea called out to Ixion and gripped his wrist.

"Wait!"

Ixion stopped and looked at the tall woman with a wide smile.

"Do you still need to know the culprit's identity that badly?"

"No." Andrea's head lowered. It seemed she didn't even care that her current actions fell into treacherous territory. "Why?"

"'Why?' what?"

"Why let such a man walk free? Is redemption not possible for the likes of him?"

Andrea's face twisted in a terrible grimace as her chin tilted up, showing budding tears in the corners of her brown eyes.

Ixion turned to face the woman in full, then lightly attempted to shake free from her grip, but Andrea gripped his wrist tighter.

"What if what you read is a fabrication?"

"It's not…" Andrea clicked her tongue. "It's most definitely not."

'So, she's done her research, has she?'

Ixion sighed, then said:

"Well, there is nothing to do about it now. Besides, am I not just as guilty as him for looking the other way?"

Andrea let go of Ixion's wrist, her arms lifelessly falling to her side and swaying with the breeze.

"At least tell me, why did you want me to find it?"

"Who knows?"

Ixion turned and made his way to the grand door, placing his hand over the iron ring and beginning to pull, but paused when he heard Andrea say something mighty peculiar.

"Duke Marlowe is plotting a rebellion, aimed to take place when you leave for Praxis."

His shoulders twitched.

"Oh, how nice and noble he is! He wants to help me carry the throne's burden, I see no problem with that."

Ixion pulled on the rings and slipped inside before he could hear Andrea's response. But he did cast one final glance back at the woman, whose face contorted into confusion, fear, disdain, and irreverence.