Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 196

Chapter 196: A Night of Pleasure
The night stretched long, adorned with a sky full of stars, scattered like shattered diamonds against the velvet darkness.

A cool breeze rustled through the open balcony, carrying the scent of the distant ocean, mingling with the rich aroma of aged wine and the faint, lingering trace of lotus flowers.

Ahcehera sat on the cushioned divan, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her crystal glass.

Across from her, Rohzivaan watched her with an unreadable expression, his own drink resting idly in his hand.

His dark hair gleamed under the lantern light, shadows flickering across his sharp features, making him look immortal and deeply human.

“You seem distracted,” he finally murmured, swirling the crimson liquid in his glass.

Ahcehera tilted her head, her eyes reflecting the candlelight like molten amber. “Just thinking,” she admitted, her voice softer than usual.

“About what?”

She exhaled slowly, turning her gaze toward the vast sky. “The future. Our future.”

Rohzivaan’s lips curled slightly, but there was something pensive in his gaze. “A rare thing for you,” he teased lightly, “to be uncertain about what lies ahead.”

Ahcehera chuckled, a quiet, breathy sound, and took a sip of her wine.

“Even the best strategists cannot plan for everything,” she mused, before her tone turned teasing.

“Besides, it’s not as if you’re any different. You always act as though you have everything figured out, yet you hesitate as much as I do.”

He leaned closer, resting an arm on the back of the divan beside her, his warmth seeping into the space between them.

“I don’t hesitate when it comes to you,” he said, his voice laced with something deeper, something possessive. “I never have.”

She felt the weight of his words settle in her chest, heavy and intoxicating like the wine in her veins.

There was something almost hypnotic in the way he looked at her, as if she were the only thing anchoring him to this world.

“Then tell me,” she challenged, shifting to face him fully. “What do you see in our future?”

Rohzivaan took her glass from her hand, setting it aside with his own before catching her wrist, his thumb brushing over her pulse.

“I see us, together,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips.

“Ruling, fighting, winning, always side by side. I see a future where no force in the universe can take you away from me.”

His words should have reassured her, but instead, they sent a strange shiver down her spine. There was an intensity in his gaze, a silent promise that felt unbreakable, unshakable.

Perhaps, once, she had wanted that certainty. Perhaps, now, she wasn’t sure if she did anymore. The moment stretched between them, charged with something unspoken.

The night air felt warmer, the wine settling deep into her limbs, making her feel lighter, yet somehow more aware of the closeness between them.

Rohzivaan’s fingers skimmed up her arm, his touch slow and deliberate, as if memorizing the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips.

He leaned in, the space between them vanishing, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered.

Ahcehera’s heartbeat quickened, not out of fear, nor reluctance, but out of something she couldn’t quite name.

She had shared nights with him before, had played the role of the devoted wife, but tonight felt different.

Tonight, the stars seemed to burn brighter. Tonight, the air felt heavier. Tonight, something between them had shifted.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips brushing against his jaw as she murmured, “And if I do?”

His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her onto his lap, his grip firm but not forceful.

“Then I’ll show you exactly what our future looks like,” he promised, his voice roughened with something primal.

Ahcehera’s breath hitched, her hands pressing against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

She met his gaze, her own uncertain, yet drawn to the heat in his eyes, to the quiet desperation laced beneath his usual control.

She should have questioned it. Should have stopped to consider why he suddenly seemed more insatiable, more intense.

But under the starlit sky, with wine on her lips and his hands on her skin, she let herself forget. Let herself surrender.

The world outside their chamber ceased to exist. The war, the power struggles, the questions of fate and destiny, all of it faded into the background.

There was only the warmth of his embrace, the slow unraveling of layers, the way his lips traced a path down her throat, across her shoulder, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

They moved like two celestial bodies caught in each other’s orbit, drawn together by a force greater than reason, greater than will.

His hands roamed her body like a sculptor rediscovering his masterpiece, tracing every curve, every scar, every inch of skin as if he needed to relearn her all over again.

She responded in kind, fingers threading through his silver hair, pulling him closer, deeper, as if she could silence the storm in her mind with the weight of his touch alone.

And for a while, it worked. For a while, there was only the rustle of sheets, the whispers of their names in the dark, the rhythmic dance of bodies lost in the ebb and flow of desire.

For a while, she let herself believe in the illusion of forever.

But as dawn approached, painting the horizon in shades of gold and violet, Ahcehera lay awake beside him, staring at the ceiling with a hollow ache in her chest.

Rohzivaan’s arm was draped over her waist, his breath slow and steady against the nape of her neck.

She should have felt comforted. Instead, she felt trapped. The bond was gone. She knew it was. Yet, somehow, she still felt bound.

Not by fate.

Not by magic.

But by the weight of expectation, by the remnants of a love that should have faded with the severing of their souls.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

Had she truly broken free?

Or had she merely replaced one chain with another?