Chapter 184: West Palm Island & Bubbles Return?
Chapter 184: West Palm Island & Bubbles Return?
The next time I cross paths with Owen, I am going to slap the everliving fuck out of him.
Currently, we are on the fourth day of our eastward voyage toward the Mermaid territory. The SDF-One, our thousand-foot-long royal airship, cruised at a smooth two hundred miles per hour, its engines a distant, rhythmic hum beneath our feet. Behind us, the Eastern Principality was already a fading memory on the horizon. It was now under the management of Prince Vali Balder, who was fresh out of the Royal Academy and slated to relocate permanently to the territory as soon as the Summer Council Meeting concluded.
Right now, we were soaring over the primordial landscape of the Demonic Beast Forest—a vast, unbroken expanse of ancient canopy, jagged mountain peaks, and wild plains stretching out as far as the eye could see.
Lounging on the back deck of the airship made the view feel like a luxury cruise, but it did nothing to lessen my urge to force Owen into an early reincarnation.
Frigg and I were side by side on poolside deckchairs. I was decked out in black shorts and a crimson, Hawaiian-style button-down shirt printed with black palm trees. Because I was supposed to be a King on vacation, I was forced to wear dark sunglasses over my black silk eyepatch, sipping a chilled tropical blend out of a cup meticulously carved from a fresh pineapple.
Frigg, who was still rigorously maintaining her disguise as the Second Queen, Gondul, had been coerced into a skimpy grey string bikini. She, too, held a pineapple cup filled with an exotic fruit punch that Owen had somehow managed to replicate perfectly from Earth flavors. I couldn't see her stern, grey eyes behind her matching black sunglasses, but her telepathic voice had been ringing in my skull for days, clear as a bell and dripping with sarcasm.
[Can I please slap that shameless maid, Elizabeth? That little Healer tramp just had to make a grand scene, parading through the living room with her blood-stained white sheets right after you left her quarters... She even had the audacity to apologize for needing to wash them. Shameless!]
Nearby, Meiling was perched on the edge of my lounge chair, peeling fresh grapes and popping them into my mouth with a sweet, devoted smile. I sent a telepathic reply back to Frigg, keeping my expression perfectly neutral.
[Give her some slack, Frigg. Elizabeth saved Taki Tsuki's life for me and literally resurrected those two hilarious mansion guards back in my North Duchy. I don't usually go for women who are barely five feet tall anyway. She’s just sweet and kind-hearted.]
Just as I finished the thought, Meiling leaned in close, her ample, voluptuous breasts pressing firmly against my chest. Clad in a daring black-and-white maid bikini that left almost nothing to the imagination, she parted her lips and fed me another grape mouth-to-mouth, her tongue briefly brushing mine.
[And what about that hussy right there?] Frigg’s mental voice snapped back instantly. [I literally caught the two of you fornicating in the storage closet yesterday!]
A flush of genuine embarrassment crept into my mental transmission, though I kept a smirk on my face for the stunning maid hovering over me.
[She was helping me change my underwear, and things just got a little out of hand... Look, these girls are under the assumption that I am their King, and it makes them happy. Besides, what are you going to do when we actually reach the depths, and I am literally flung into a full-blown Nereid and Siren orgy?]
To my surprise, a genuine smile broke across Frigg's face. She turned her head toward the horizon, watching the sun begin its slow dip toward the Kingdom.
[Actually, Loki, I’m just messing with you,] she admitted, her tone softening into amusement. [I don't really mind anymore. I just wanted to see you squirm and try to make me happy. I know exactly what your life trajectory looks like. But for Lana’s sake, I felt obligated to play the nagging wife at least a little bit, haha.]
I deadpanned behind my sunglasses, realizing she had been pulling my leg for four straight days. Before I could process it, Meiling leaned down further, her voice filled with hopeful anticipation.
"Your Majesty... would you like both Elizabeth and I to warm your royal bed this evening?"
I took a slow, deliberate sip of my fruit punch through the straw, shaking my head with a wicked grin. "Meiling, you and Elizabeth can handle my bath-time routine. But tonight, I have to show my Queen exactly who the King is."
At first, a flash of disappointment crossed the faces of the short Elizabeth—who was standing just behind my chair—and Meiling beside my lap. But the immediate green light for a wet, soapy, soap-land-style bath-time meant their duties to 'milk the king' were still very much on the schedule.
Hearing that I intended to focus the entire night solely on her, Frigg visibly shivered in her deckchair. Her telepathic voice returned, this time reduced to a frantic, begging whisper.
[Loki... honey... I said I was sorry, right? Please have mercy on me tonight. Even Valkyries need to sleep!]
I gave myself a triumphant mental high-five. Terrorizing this otherwise stoic, powerful woman into a blubbering, breathless mess was incredibly satisfying. One too many earth-shattering orgasms tended to make newlywed wives completely addicted, a trait she clearly shared with her master, Lana.
The last few days of our cruise through the skies had honestly turned into a phenomenal vacation from my chaotic lifestyle, even if it required playing the role of Owen twenty-four seven. Discovering that I had successfully helped Frigg evolve into a 9th Circle Healer, a Full Knight, and a true Valkyrie did wonders for my ego. I was only surprised that Puck, my Fate Spider, hadn't tried to weave her into my destiny yet—though that was likely because Frigg was fundamentally Lana's summon.
I spent the remaining days taking long walks along the massive deck with the three women, polishing my newly acquired skills in private. With Frigg’s persistent prodding, I had also been aggressively trying to force a breakthrough past that stubborn 7th Circle threshold. Unfortunately, cultivating three magical elements simultaneously was proving to be a monumental headache. I needed a catalyst, an opportunity—something I hoped to find beneath the waves.
On the morning of our seventh day of travel, the airship finally reached the outer boundaries of the territory. I found myself in the spacious, Japanese-style bathhouse aboard the ship.
Steam swirled thick through the air as the heavy artificial rain of the showerheads drummed against the tile. I was sitting on a low shower stool, and Elizabeth, the short, slender maid, was straddling my lap. My full length was buried deep inside her tight, dripping wet core. Her shapely, delicate legs were locked tightly around my waist, her small hands running wildly through my wet, grey hair as I pulled her close for a deep, bruising kiss.
Patter-slap-patter!
The cascading water roared over our coupling bodies. I held her soft bottom firmly in my palms, lifting and lowering her rhythmically against my pelvis, driving myself deep inside her as my manhood surged toward its breaking point.
When I broke the kiss, I tasted the unmistakable salt of tears mixing with the fresh water on her face. Her lips were trembling, but the corners of her mouth were curved into a wide, ecstatic smile.
"What's wrong, Liz?" I asked, my voice thick with lust as I continued to desperately pump up into her warmth.
She shook her head, leaning in to press her forehead against mine, eagerly shifting her hips to maximize the friction. "None of the maids with commoner backgrounds have ever been chosen by you before," she sobbed happily, her voice cracking with pure devotion. "I am just so happy you picked Meiling and me to show us your favor. In a way... I was a first for you, my King. Thank you for loving this little Maid and Healer."
A sharp pang of guilt struck my chest. The real King Owen hadn't touched her—I had.
The only reason Owen had never slept with the commoner maids was because Angelica and the rest of his fierce Queens had threatened him within an inch of his life to only bed noble women. I had accidentally broken his strict rules.
Looking down at the woman a full ten inches shorter than me, I realized she was officially the first loli-type woman I had ever slept with, and honestly, the experience wasn't half bad. I leaned down, catching one of her perky, sensitive C-cup breasts in my mouth, sucking hard on the rigid nipple until she shrieked against the roar of the shower.
With one final, violent thrust, I slammed deep into her core, filling her belly with a massive surge of warm royal essence. I held her tenderly as her walls spasmed around me in a prolonged, gripping climax.
Elizabeth collapsed against my broad chest, flushing crimson, a radiant smile on her face as she soaked in the lingering warmth beneath the flowing water. I lifted her chin, staring into her deep, dark eyes. A part of me desperately wanted to clear my conscience and tell her that I was actually Loki Sky. But that was the curse of stealing identities; the web of secrets was too dense to unravel.
Instead, I decided to offer her my absolute honesty within the confines of the lie. "As the King, Liz... I can't look at you and say I love you. But if I were that shameless, Queen-stealing bastard Count Loki Sky, I would definitely tell you, 'I love you deeply, Liz.'"
The sweet, dark-magic-wielding woman let out a soft giggle, tightening her arms around my neck. "You are my only lover, my King. I will never let that notorious Loki Sky steal me away from you, haha."
We shared one last, intimate tremor as the final drops of my essence settled inside her, leaving me smiling quite awkwardly against her shoulder.
By noon, the entire retinue gathered at the bow of the airship as our destination over the Inner Sea finally loomed on the horizon: West Palm Island.
Just as the Elves utilized South Point Island as a neutral hub for foreign traders, visitors, and emissaries, the Mermaid Kingdom used this stunning, sun-drenched tropical paradise to conduct trade, hold diplomatic meetings, and find suitable mates from the surface world.
The SDF-One glided down with flawless precision, touching down in a massive, restricted docking zone. Flanked by our two personal maids and a dozen heavily armed Knights, Frigg and I were escorted directly to the Mermaid royalty’s private villa on the northern shore, where we would await the arrival of Ariel and Opal.
Frigg had changed into a practical, plain grey dress outfitted with reinforced shin and wrist guards. Heavy plate armor was entirely useless for underwater combat, and this specific ensemble was a direct gift from Gondul, who conveniently shared her exact, statuesque measurements.
As we walked through the villa, several gorgeous Nereid maids bypassed our guards, tossing out sultry winks and highly suggestive invitations.
Thankfully, Elizabeth, Meiling, and Frigg aggressively chased them off, leaving the fish-girls giggling as they darted down the corridors.
But the scene waiting for us at the edge of the water completely threw me for a loop.
As we stood on the long, wooden dock stretching over the crystal-clear turquoise water to await the Princesses—famed members of The Seven Sea Songs—the current ruler of West Palm Island stepped out to join us. According to Owen’s meticulously detailed notes, I was supposed to have met this woman twice before. And, true to Owen’s historical behavior, my instructions were to aggressively hit on her and promptly get slapped across the face, given her status as a high-ranking noble Mermaid.
Lady West was a striking figure, standing nearly six feet tall with the characteristically voluptuous D-cup frame that almost all Mermaid royalty seemed to possess. She had piercing blue eyes and an ethereal, breathtaking allure. However, instead of the usual pink or blonde hair common among her kin, her locks were a brilliant, fiery red, styled up into a neat, professional bun.
Like most of her kind on land, she was completely barefoot. She wore a daring, form-fitting one-piece dress featuring a tan seashell bra connected to a sheer fabric that cut off dangerously high at her shapely mid-thigh.
Recognition flashed in her blue eyes, followed by a warm, charming smile. She extended her right hand—a profound gesture in Mermaid culture, where touching the bare skin of a surface man signified deep respect, or an open invitation to mate if they weren't already claimed.
"Greetings, King Balder," she purred, her voice like silk. "It is wonderful to see you again. It has been far too long."
I stepped forward and took her right hand in mine. Expecting the inevitable violent retaliation from her free left hand, I channeled Owen’s iconic, over-the-top otaku wistfulness into my eyes and voice.
"Lady West... I have sorely missed the sight of your breathtaking beauty," I murmured, leaning in slightly with a slick grin. "I have long dreamed of the day we would meet again. Perhaps we could steal away for a private meal, and truly get to know one another better, hehe?"
As I spoke, I subtly applied a Wing Chun locking technique, securing her right hand firmly so she would only have one hand free to deliver the expected slap. I felt her hand tremble slightly within my grasp. But before I could brace for impact, her left hand came up—not to strike me, but to gently cup the back of my right hand, locking our fingers together in a tight, double-clasped embrace.
Lady West looked up into my utterly bewildered face, her smile widening with genuine affection.
"King Owen... please, call me May," she whispered, squeezing my hands tightly. "In fact, I think I will accompany you to the Atlantis capital. We can talk all about life over a long, intimate meal."
While I stood there, completely paralyzed by the realization that I had somehow charmed a woman Owen had failed with for years, due to the Mermaid Curse, a deep, resonant sound echoed from the edge of the horizon.
[UUUUUUUUUU—AHHHHHHHHH...]
The ocean water surged and parted. A colossal, blue-and-white cetacean behemoth drifted smoothly through the waves, its massive, mountain-like back bearing an elegant, Greek-Asian fusion pagoda that gleamed beneath the tropical sun.
On the wide, second-floor balcony of the structure, a profound shift in the royal succession of the sea was on full display for everyone on the docks to see.
Queen Ariel, the towering, six-foot-tall, pink-haired sovereign, stood regally at the pristine marble railing. Her piercing blue eyes swept over the island with her signature air of cool, royal indifference. But cradled securely and tenderly in her arms was a healthy, three-month-old mermaid infant—the official heir to King Owen’s throne.
Standing right beside her was my actual eighth wife, Opal, her striking blonde counterpart. While Ariel’s silhouette had already snapped back to its statuesque, flawless norm, Opal’s figure had noticeably shifted. Her short, flowing pink silk skirt now rested just beneath a prominent, beautifully rounded five-month pregnant belly, proudly marking her as the realm's newest expectant royal mother.
Both royal women remained barefoot, their ornate seashell brassieres catching the brilliant midday light. They stood poised and ready at a split-second's notice to shed their humanoid legs, manifest their massive, serpentine fishtails, and dive into the depths alongside their bustling retinue of Nereids and Sirens.