Jus Primae Noctis Vol 1 Chapter 7

Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 7, Part 1

He had almost been kissed to the point of asphyxiation, and to his shame, Walker found that in reply to Wiltshire's t.i.tillation, his body --- long since accustomed to desire --- had given a response that he had no way of hiding.

“Stop pretending, you obviously like me touching you!” Peeling off Walker's defending hands, Wiltshire actually tried to undo the b.u.t.tons of his trousers right there, in a public place with numerous people...

“Get lost! Don’t touch me!” Although he knew that Wiltshire had no sense of propriety, he had never thought that he would be this brazen. Overcome by shame and resentment, Walker put all of his strength into a shove and actually managed to push the Marquess, who was still immersed in a sea of desire, out from the cover of the curtains, and he fell onto the marble floor.

“Goodness, my Lord the Marquess of Wiltshire!”

“It’s the Lord Marquess!”

“My Lord Marquess, are you alright?”

The women who were standing close-by shrieked and they all gathered around Wiltshire, who cut a sorry figure as he lay on the floor facing up, which was the position his fall had left him in. With the state of affairs so awkward, naturally Walker could not choose to reveal his presence at this time, and he could only continue to hide behind the curtains.

After having been helped to his feet by the aristocratic ladies, not only did Wiltshire not display even the slightest degree of shame, but he actually turned his face to the heavens and laughed. The ladies were quite clearly stumped by his laughter and could only look at him in confusion, not knowing what they should do.

“My apologies, my apologies! My dear ladies, if I can become the focus of your attention by kissing the floor, I am all too willing to try it a few more times.” With much difficulty, Wiltshire finally managed to stop laughing. As he was brushing off the dust on his jacket, he did not forget display the distinctive qualities of his smooth-talking, playboy persona.

“My Lord Marquess, it would seem that not even the pristine countryside has had the ability to make you the slightest bit more virtuous!” A woman, who was wearing a green gown with a plunging neckline, covered her mouth with her fan and giggled, not neglecting to put on a tone that was replete with flirtatiousness as she made a reply to Wiltshire.

“Brett, why did you want to stay in a rural place like Stonehaven for so long? You should know that it was such a regrettable thing for us not to be able to see you at these parties!” Another woman, whose whole body was adorned with pink lace, chose to address him by his first name to flaunt her close relationship with Wiltshire. 

“Yes, oh yes. Also, my dear, you didn’t even write a single letter to me! You clearly promised me that you would.” Clearly quite displeased by the other two women behaving so familiarly with Wiltshire, a young and gorgeous woman wearing a pearl tiara forced her way to Wiltshire's side and admonished him coquettishly [1] as she leaned against his arm.

Within a short period of time, a dozen or so women were pushing and shoving at each other, vying for a position that was of closer proximity to Wiltshire. The sense of intimacy they had with the Marquess caused Walker to seethe with anger, so much so that he was almost spouting smoke through his seven orifices.

Walker was secretly stewing over Wiltshire's fickle heart and shamelessness when all of a sudden, a pair of strong arms dragged him out of his hiding place.

“Ladies, my apologies. Although I would very much like to chat with all of you for a while longer, I have some important business to discuss with this gentleman. Could I trouble everyone to make way?” His face plastered with a fake smile, he was displaying every courtesy but the hands he had clasped around Walker were like steel pincers --- powerful and merciless.

“Goodness! Brett, who is this gentleman! Could you please introduce [2] me?” When they saw Walker's handsome and strong figure and facial features, the eyes of the gathered women began to gleam; they had already grown tired of looking at the aristocratic males and their so-called elegant comportment, which really just came off as effeminate. One after another, each woman continuously tugged at the Marquess and requested that he introduce Walker to her.

Wiltshire saw that Walker had been squeezed in the middle of a pack of women who seemed to resemble hungry wolves and tigers. From the look on his face, he would appear to be confused and disoriented, and in addition, his face was flushed scarlet. Under these circ.u.mstances, Wiltshire was certainly not about to introduce him to any of them. “Apologies! The matter is really very urgent; we shall speak more when we meet up again in a short while. Apologies!” As if his life depended on it, he gripped Walker tightly and struggled free of the encirclement created by the crowd. Walking away quickly, he only released his grip when they were in a lounge by the side of the grand ballroom.

“Wait for me here, I will go look for the Prince Regent right now and after I have spoken with him, we will leave immediately.”

Walker was totally confounded by his current att.i.tude of burning anxiety. Before they had left his manor, this person had appeared to be bouncing with enthusiasm at the prospect of attending this party, but now, he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to leave immediately. In any case, when it came right down to it, Walker found it impossible to blend into this type of social occasion, which was full of upper-crust men and women who spoke in such a highfalutin manner, and therefore, he certainly would not object to leaving early.

He watched as Wiltshire walked with hurried steps and disappeared through the door. In his boredom, Walker could only walk towards the bookshelf and pick out a book to read.

“Tennyson [3]? Your taste seems to be rather unusual.” After he had been reading for a while, the languid tones of a man drifted from the doorway, interrupting his reading. Walker raised his head and saw that it was Earl Thuram, who was holding a gla.s.s of wine in his hand as he looked at him while leaning against the door.

“I've been to Stonehaven numerous times, but I never heard that Brett still had any relatives living in that area.” The Earl drained the wine from his gla.s.s in one gulp and carelessly threw the vessel away. There was a hint of challenge in the depth of his eyes as he looked at Walker.

Not understanding the Earl's intentions, Walker could only look back at him for a moment, but he soon recovered the ability to behave naturally. “The Lord Marquess and I are only very distantly related, and I do not have any t.i.tle of n.o.bility, it is only natural that I did not have the opportunity to meet your acquaintance.” 

“Humph!” The att.i.tude that Thuram was displaying towards Walker was entirely different from how he had behaved when Wiltshire had been by his side. He gave a cold laugh and said with a mocking tone of voice: “More like a relative that suddenly came out of nowhere? I never knew that Brett could be so generous as to put up the money to outfit his poor relations head to toe with expensive clothes and going so far as to bring him along to attend one of the Prince Regent’s soirees. “

Walker's expression became hard, dropping the book he had in his hands, he slowly stood up. At six feet tall, he was a full head taller than the Earl. In addition, his broad shoulders and long, well-muscled legs, made his form appear even more intimidating.

Without meaning to, Earl Thuram took a step back, but he very quickly stuck his chest out and met Walker's eyes fearlessly. Undisguised provocation and contempt were written in that pair of azure eyes, causing Walker to be absolutely taken aback; he did not have the slightest idea how he aroused such enmity.

Wiltshire's timely reappearance interrupted the two people as they faced off with mutual hostility.

“Walker…” When he noticed Earl Thuram, Wiltshire was clearly startled, “David, why are you here?”

When he heard Wiltshire's voice, Thuram quickly turned back. As if by magic, the ferocious look on his face was instantly replaced by a gentle and sweet expression.

“Brett, have you found Henry? How did your conversation with him go?” He smiled, and his blue eyes were also filled with a smiling look as they gazed upon Wiltshire.
　　
Walker was utterly incapable of believing that any human could actually alter their mood within such a short period of time and he could only stare blankly at the Earl --- who now looked to be the archetypal angel --- in a daze.

“Nothing much.” Wiltshire did not seem willing to speak further; he grabbed Walker with a hand and hurriedly bid his friend goodbye: “David, I’m really sorry, there is something I must attend to, I can only leave first.” 
　　
“Take care on your way home!” The Earl approached, gave his friend a light hug and even shook hands with Walker very politely before saying: “See you again, Mr. Robinson. Although it was only for a short time, I still feel that speaking to you is a very pleasant thing.”

There was n.o.body who could possibly connect this gentle-faced Earl to the nasty youngster of just a moment ago. Even after he had been dragged up the horse carriage by Wiltshire, Walker still unconsciously touched the hand that had been gripped by the Earl, still unable to make any sense of that performance --- how he had appeared to be a completely different person before and after Wiltshire's appearance.

“What happened, what are you thinking of?” Suddenly, a pair of strong hands was braced on the carriage walls, one on either side of his head, and Wiltshire's face was almost pressed up against his own.

“Hey, don’t be like this…” Feeling the Marquess's hands wrap around him tightly, Walker quickly and desperately tried to use his hand to push way Wiltshire's lips, which were closing in on his own. “I really cannot understand why you always become especially excited whenever we get on a carriage?”

“What do you mean I become especially excited when we get on a carriage! G.o.d knows how much I wanted you when I touched you just now, but it was just a d.a.m.n shame that we were at a party thrown by the Prince Regent! It wasn’t easy for me to endure till now…” With a look of frustrated desire on his face, Wiltshire did his best to kiss Walker.

“What do you mean endure till now? Are you a wild beast?” Walker pledged with his life that he would resist this time; G.o.d knows that just before they had attended the ball today, Wiltshire's beastly nature had reared its head and he had pushed Walker, who had been dressing, onto the bed! He totally could not comprehend how this Marquess of Wiltshire, with his n.o.ble appearance, could have a brain that was seemingly filled with s.e.x and nothing else.

Wiltshire had seemingly decided that he did not wish to waste any more time on talking Walker around. He devoted all of his energy to trying to pin down Walker, but when it only resulted in a lengthy stalemate, he then lifted his hand and drew up the drapes of the carriage.

“Nick, stop the coach.” He shouted in the direction of the coachman.

With that, the carriage quickly came to a stop, Wiltshire tugged at the baffled Walker and they got off the carriage together. Without even bothering to turn his head, Wiltshire instructed the coachman to wait for them at that very spot before proceeding to hustle Walker into a dark alley by the side of the road.
　　
“G.o.d! Are you mad?” Although it was not yet winter, there was already a slight chilliness to the air during this time of night in London. Wiltshire only halted his steps when they were inside the deserted, narrow and dark alley, by that time, Walker’s breathing was already a bit laboured due to the pace Wiltshire had set. In a lowered voice, he made his complaints.

The only reply he got was Wiltshire's powerful arms coiling around him and the sound of his urgent breaths by the side of his ear.
　　
“You are such a…” Before he had enough time to spit out the rest of his words, they were sealed in his mouth by a pair of lips that claimed his own fiercely.

Employing all the tricks and techniques he knew of, he did his utmost to t.i.tillate Walker as he kissed him. Lifting up his shirt, Wiltshire's nimble fingers forcefully pinched the little protrusions at the front of his chest.

“Uh…” The harsh invective Walker had wanted to hurl at the Marquess turned into a groan in Wiltshire's mouth. To his shame and humiliation, he found that the Marquess's teasing had rapidly produced a reaction from his body; his legs parted slightly as if they had a mind of their own. Needless to say, Wiltshire immediately seized the opportunity with both hands and lodged himself between them while looping an arm tightly around Walker's waist.

“G.o.d, we must be crazy! G.o.d forgive me!” The Scotsman was muttering these things in his mouth, but under the sway of his own desires, he still allowed the Marquess to remove his shirt. His burning body was suddenly exposed to the cold winds of the night, causing him to quiver a little.

Touching Walker's warm and naked body with his hands, Wiltshire was completely unable to restrain or enduring the desire raging in his chest. Not giving any thought to their surroundings, he pulled off the valuable jacket and shirt he was wearing, and carelessly threw them to the ground. While both of his hands meandered down Walker's body, following the contours of his strong figure, he could not resist sucking on the little fruits at the front of his chest with his mouth.

“Uh… Ah…” Having his sensitive areas teased in the most provocative way by that moist tongue caused Walker's mind to become a blank slate. The desire on his lower body had engorged so much that it seemed to be a like a piece of red-hot iron, unable to help himself, he wanted to reach out with his own hand and grasp his own erection…

But both of his hands were captured by Wiltshire and twisted behind his back forcefully, spurred on by their maddening l.u.s.t, the two people totally lost themselves in the moment. The Marquess's tongue traced Walker's well-defined abdominal muscles as it continued to travel downwards, where Wiltshire took Walker's fully erect desire into his mouth.

When the warm and moist walls of Wiltshire's oral cavity enveloped him, Walker's body quaked violently; but when Wiltshire began to move and stir up that sensitive object in his mouth, in a flash, the Scotsman completely lost awareness of anything else, his conscious mind fragmenting to drift in the cold autumn winds of the London night…
　　
“Ah, let go! Let go! Let me… let me out…” He could not say when exactly he had stopped, but Wiltshire was no longer restraining Walker's hands and yet, all thoughts of resistance had already flown from Walker's mind. Both of his hands were placed on the Marquess's head and they moved up-and-down following the back-and-forth movements of Wiltshire's mouth.

Although his tongue was rotating without restraint, caressing the erection in his mouth in an obscene fashion, both of Wiltshire's hands were tightly clamped around the base of Walker's desire, constraining it and not allowing him to release. Wave after wave of throbbing aches, which also brimmed with pleasure, rose up from the bottom of his lower abdomen; Walker was almost driven to the point of collapse by the desire that clamoured to be released.

“Let go…” Walker's voice had nearly turned pleading; unconsciously, the hand he had placed at the back of the Marquess's head was pressing against it with force, and he was beginning to have difficulty standing upright because his legs were trembling slightly.

The Marquess did not reply, but with the sudden removal of his hands, and the sudden spurting out of his desire that followed it, Walker's climax brought him to the peaks of pleasure, such as he had never experienced before. Yet, even before he had the chance to savour the aftershocks that accompanied that type of pleasure, in the very next moment, he found that his legs had already been lifted.

Using the s.e.m.e.n that the Scotsman had shot out, the Marquis entered into the Scotsman's body straightaway. After wild thrusting movements, the two of them reached their climaxes almost simultaneously.

When they were done, Walker practically needed Wiltshire's help just to get onto the carriage. When the carriage began to move again, the Scotsman sitting inside was half-lying in the Marquess's bosom. The two people were silent as they embraced, but both of them still trembled because of the intense pa.s.sions they had revealed in front of the other just a short period of time ago.


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[1]: The original term in the Chinese text is “撒娇 (sā jiāo)”. There is no exact equivalent for this in the English language I think. It is something like whining, but in a flirtatious/spoiled manner, but the person that is doing it is confident that the other party would be receptive. The other party is usually a loved one. It’s not limited to a pair of lovers, a child could also do this to his parents or elder relatives.

[2]: It was generally unacceptable to speak to anyone of good breeding without a formal introduction by a third party. Only those of a higher social rank could approach someone he did not know. People of a lower or equal rank had to wait for an introduction by a friend or a master of ceremonies.

[3]: Probably referring to Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson (6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892), one of the most popular British poets of all time. 

Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 7, Part 2

“How about coming upstairs with me?”

When they were back at the residence in Leicester Square, Franklin was by the door, awaiting his master's return. After taking an opportunity to send the Butler away, Wiltshire asked Walker the question in a whisper as they stood at the bottom of the staircase. 

Walker shook his head, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the old butler reappearing at the door. Deliberately, he increased the volume of his voice and said: “I had a very pleasant evening, thank you, Sir! Let’s say our goodnights here.” 

Apparently, Wiltshire had also noticed Franklin. He immediately changed his voice to the unctuous tones of a shallow aristocrat and said in a lazy drawl: “Well, the parties in London are always the same. One you've seen one, you've seen them all, isn't it, Walker? But I’m glad you liked it. Goodnight, my friend!”

Under the guise of shaking Walker's hand, he rapidly traced the words "wait for me" on his palm, before he quickly disappeared up the stairs wearing a smile.

The enchanting smile that Wiltshire had flashed at him before he had left dazzled Walker so much that felt slightly dizzy and he stood rooted to the same spot for a few seconds before he could turn and walk away. As he pa.s.sed Franklin on his way out, he pretended that he did not notice the stern gaze that the Butler had turned on him.

When he was back in the little room he had been living in while he was away from his home, Walker lit the candles on the table and tidied up the bed while waiting for Wiltshire. After about half an hour, the candlelight in the Marquess's room was extinguished. Very soon, Wiltshire appeared in Walker's room, when he really ought to have been sound asleep in his own bed.

“Good heavens! I really do not know why Franklin thinks he has the right to interfere with his Master's private life.” Although the look on his face said that he was frustrated and had no choice but to put up with this, Walker knew very well that in actual fact, Wiltshire actually respected this old Butler.

Without any fuss, he took off his sleeping robes and threw them on the floor, and now naked, Wiltshire quickly got between the sheets. With dissatisfaction, he turned his gaze to Walker, who was still fully dressed, and said crossly: “Do you think that you are still at a party? Take your clothes off quickly, I have something to say to you.”

“I also have something to say.” Walker ignored the Marquess's loud call and seated himself at the table. After casting a look at Wiltshire's hair of pure gold, which was flowing over the pillow, he averted his gaze.

“You can speak first!” The Marquess gave a shrug of his shoulders and propped his head up on one of his hands, making it look like he was listening with all ears.

The Scotsman exhibited a peculiar manner, as if he did not know how he should bring up the subject. After a short interval, he finally decided to adopt a more solemn manner.

“Sir, I have already been in London for two weeks…” He looked at Wiltshire before continuing: “Although I very much hoped that you would honour your promise to find me a job, but after all these days, I have found that you seem to have no intention of doing this at all. There is no benefit to either of us if this situation should continue to drag on. Sir, I have already decided that I will leave this place tomorrow.”

His expression was quite resolute; it could be seen from his att.i.tude that even if Wiltshire tried to object, he could not be swayed from his decision.

“What if I say that I don’t agree?” At the beginning, Wiltshire had been quite shocked, but he soon managed to calm down. The expression in his eyes changed as he continued to look at Walker, to one that was quite dangerous.

Walker locked eyes with him for several moments before finally choosing to turn his head to the side so as to avoid having to look at the ferocious expression on his face.

“Whether you agree or not, I’m still leaving!”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense. Wiltshire remained silent for a few minutes but he soon came to a decision.

“Come here!” He called out to Walker in a rather controlled voice, but his eyes, which resembled green crystals, emitted glints of brilliant colour, as if he were a beast that was staring down his prey.

Walker chose to remain silent, neither making a reply nor moving to obey his order.

“I said, come here!” The Marquess's voice began to turn threatening.

Walker had no intention of showing any weakness. He held his head up with pride and walked over to the bed, looking at the Marquess with a rather determined expression.

Wiltshire seemed to have become infuriated, grabbing at Walker with one hand, he dragged him down to the bed. The Scotsman struggled and tried to crawl up, but because the Marquess was firmly pressing down on him from behind, he was unable to straighten out his lower back. He could only feel kisses, that were as earth-shattering as lightning and thunderbolts, continuously rain down upon his face and body…

Accompanied by the sound of a crisp ripping noise, the expensive jacket and shirt that Walker was wearing were torn apart with brute force by the Marquess. b.u.t.tons clattered as they fell to the ground and shreds of cloth fluttered in the wind. The Marquess hands rapidly established a hold over Walker's chest, which was stretched taut with anger. While teasing the small protrusions on the front of Walker's chest, he pinned Walker's arms to the sides of his body firmly.

“Why do you always have to be like this? This can’t solve any problem! G.o.d, why can’t you understand?” As if his life depended upon it, Walker wriggled his body and tried to struggle; he detested that Wiltshire had chosen to use s.e.x to convince him. This method seemed more suitable for dealing with a woman who was being disobedient and made him feel deeply humiliated, but what caused him to feel even more horrified was his discovery that, to his surprise, his body had quickly reacted to Wiltshire's actions.

The Marquess did not make any reply to his question, his attention was completely concentrated on subduing the body in his arms --- in addition to working hard at freeing a hand so that he could pull the Scotsman's trousers down.

“f.u.c.k!” When his b.u.t.tocks came into contact with the cold air, Walker could not help but to swear, using foul language.
　　
“Why do you always have to be like this… ah…” But soon, after something that felt as cold as ice was smeared into the hottest part of his body, his protestations were ultimately turned into a groan by the pain of that finger intruding into his body.

“d.a.m.n it!” It was not clear why the Marquess was cursing. Three fingers of his right hand were completely buried within Walker's body, aided by the lubricant he had applied, they flew in and out. Feeling the body he had clasped in his arms was shaking due to pain and humiliation, Wiltshire brought Walker's chin close and with no restrain, he began to kiss those lips which could not be closed because Walker was feeling such pa.s.sion.

Slowly, he pushed his burning-hot desire into Walker's body, but after that, he only maintained his body in the same position, instead of beginning to move it back and forth. Even so, Walker still seemed to find the kind of feelings washing over him hard to bear, they felt like humiliation but at the same time also felt like excitement. Afraid that he would bring on even more suffering on himself, he ceased to struggle but only held his body stiffly, resigned to letting the Marquess caress and kiss it.

“It is only at times like this that you are willing to listen to me...” Allowing Walker's back to press closely against his chest, Wiltshire wore an intoxicated expression on his face as he began to caress Walker's cheek and neck, and his fingers tenderly stroked the protrusions at the front of his chest, which had already become bright red and stiff.

Walker gradually became enraptured by the mood of s.e.xual love in the room, his face was flushed, and little by little, his breathing had become urgent. Involuntarily, his body had begun to tremble in antic.i.p.ation of the wave of pa.s.sion that would soon sweep over him…

“You… what are you waiting for?” When the Marquess still made no further movement, Walker could bear it no more and finally he had to ask the question.

“Ah, I’m waiting for you to change your mind.” With a smiling expression, Wiltshire bent over and said in his ear.

Directing his gaze down Walker's body, he saw that his p.e.n.i.s was already standing erect in the air. To his great satisfaction, the Marquess discovered that under his provocation, the Scotsman's rational mind had already become unable to suppress the desire that emanated from the depths of his body.

“You are an absolute lunatic!” Walker cried out; his lower body already felt as hot as if it were on fire, and transparent fluid was even flowing out from the front end of that erect body part, but Wiltshire had restrained his hands firmly, not allowing him to touch his own desire. Not only that, he also continued to rub at his neck and chest, making the torment even more intense for Walker.

In actual fact, the Marquess needn't have done so, his hard length that he had inserted into Walker's body was already enough to drive him to lose his reason. With his l.u.s.t slowly mounting, but unable to find any avenue of release, Walker moaned and could not help but to give in to the instinct to twist his body in an attempt to search for release.

“Listen carefully to me!” The Marquess forcefully pulled his body back, not allowing him to move further. At the same time, he shouted loudly, in an attempt to startle Walker's mind from its state of confusion: “I did promise you that I will recommend you for a job, and that is something that I have actually been working on. But the Prince Regent has given me an order; I will have to leave for France tomorrow. I am going to need a.s.sistance, and I am hoping that you will go with me. Do you understand, Walker?”

“You… you mean to say… go to France?” Walker was gasping, and even his mind seemed to have been set alight by flames. The Marquess was indeed too cunning, demanding that he should make a decision about such an important matter at such a time.

“Yes, France! When we come back, I will immediately let you go to work at the shipping company owned by my good friend, Baron Rosen. You can earn a thousand English Pounds [4] per year there.” Wiltshire's voice sounded wretchedly calm, to entice Walker, he had even used a salary that was so high that it almost induced Walker to have a dizzy spell.

That was a sum of money that could buy a piece of land; that huge sum of money would even allow for them to build a brand new house on it. If he could earn that sum of money… Walker thought of how his mother would never need to feel dejected over not having enough money for medical treatment, and the money could even be used to send his brothers to London to attend school…

He had no way to reject this --- although he knew very clearly that Wiltshire did not have any good intentions, but Walker could not find a way to make himself spit out any words of refusal.

“Do we have an agreement…” Using a voice that was almost a sigh, he murmured in Walker's ear. Wiltshire suddenly and forcefully thrust his waist forwards, and his manhood, which had already become as hard as steel long ago, penetrated even deeper into the soft inner walls. In response, Walker's entire body began to spasm uncontrollably.

“Agree… Walker, agree…” He began to thrust in-and-out slowly, until the Scotsman was shedding tears caused by the pain of having his desire burning to its apex but being left without tender attention.

“Yes, yes! I beg you… please…” Walker's trembling voice was released in wild shouts, he could no longer endure any more of this type of torture; he could not take even a minute, or even a second, more of it.

That wicked ensorcellment was instantly broken, the Marquess gave a sigh and began to thrust his body with the speed of flight, and very quickly, he reached his climax in the Scotsman's body; and as for Walker, under the Marquess's skilful hands, he also reached the peak of pleasure at nearly the exact same moment.

Whitish fluids splashed out on the Marquess's palm and the bed sheets, as if making a declaration about how degenerate he had become...


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[1]: £1,000 would be about £33,960 in 2008 values. At the turn of the 19th century, the per capita income was about £33 pounds. At that time, a lot of the workforce was comprised of labourers, who earned about £15-20 and servants, who earned about £20 to £60 if they were male or £5 to £15 for females. These sums may not sound like enough to live on, but remember that their room and board were provided for by their employers.

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Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 7, Part 3

The next morning, although he was neither willing nor enthusiastic, Walker still kept his promise and together with Wiltshire, he boarded the ship that was bound for the Port of Le Havre [1], The Princess Elizabeth.

The ocean's sparkling and translucent surface reflected the clear blue sky, creating a lovely scene, and the accommodations in the First-Cla.s.s cabins were also quite comfortable, but unfortunately, Wiltshire seemed totally unable to find his sea legs --- within two hours of boarding the ship, he had already barfed five times.

“Oh, G.o.d! How is it that you are not even the slightest bit seasick when it's obvious that you have never even seen the open ocean before?” In great discomfort, Wiltshire was lying flat on his back atop the narrow bed in the cabin. With envy written all over his face, he looked at Walker, who was admiring the scenery outside the window of the cabin in a totally relaxed manner.

It was rare that he could feel any sense of superiority when he was faced with the Marquess. As Walker was placing a cold towel on Wiltshire's forehead, he laughed and said: “Maybe the G.o.ds of the Sea favour kind people.”

Just as Wiltshire was thinking of launching a counterattack, the ship gave a timely jolt and the Marquess immediately clutched at his churning stomach and gave a groan. Clamping his mouth shut tightly, he forced back his queasiness.

When he saw that at this moment, the cheeks of the usually jaunty Wiltshire were now pale and wan, Walker couldn't find it in his heart to ignite any hatred or enmity towards him anymore.

“Do you want me to bring you something to eat?” He cast a look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cabin and found that it was almost time for lunch.

“If you intend to cause my death…” Wiltshire gave a bitter laugh. He cast a glare at the boundless azure ocean beyond the windows of the cabin and could not help but to give a groan from the very depths of his throat, which was then followed by him beginning to mutter malicious words, curses directed at the Prince Regent.

Hearing the extremely ungentlemanly words continue to stream out of Wiltshire's mouth without any hint of stopping, Walker was on the verge of being unable to restrain a smile. From the time he had first met Wiltshire, he had always been at an disadvantage, but it would seem that the sea G.o.ds were inflicting punishment upon this savage man on Walker's behalf --- although the severity of his punishment was still somewhat more lenient than desired.

“I’m going to go have lunch.” Walker rose from his chair and stood up, his stomach was rumbling with hunger, making him feel very uncomfortable. More importantly, he had no wish to have to deal with a man in a cantankerous mood while he himself had an empty stomach.

“Don’t go yet!” Seemingly at his last gasp, Wiltshire managed to summon up energy from some unknown reserves and managed to shout out. He looked at Walker, and with a most pathetic and pitiful expression he implored, “Don’t leave me here alone…”

When he saw the surprised look on the Scotsman's face, he said even more emphatically: “Please accompany me for a while longer.”

Walker stared at Wiltshire intently for a few seconds; finally he softened, affected by the look in that pair of jade-green eyes, which looked close to being beseeching.

“Alright!” In a forthright manner, he nodded his head, dragging a chair over to the bed and sitting down. “If there is anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

After all, with the way the Marquess now looked, it was hard to think of him as the devil who had raped him and Walker's fatal failing was that he found it hard to reject requests that others made of him.

Wiltshire gave a blink, and his crystal-like eyes of pure green were suddenly misted over with a layer of vapour. His tone of voice also became more careful, complimenting the tragic expression he was wearing. 

“May I lay on you for a moment?” He pointed to Walker's knee, and his voice was almost on the verge of being extremely cautious and solemn.

He really couldn't think of any reasonable excuse to decline the request of an ailing man, and Walker had to agree, for lack of a better option. He let Wiltshire rest his head on this thigh, using it as a pillow, and looked on as Wiltshire closed his eyes, even appearing to have difficulty breathing. Even if Walker had cracked his head with over-thinking, he could never have imagined that a moment would come when the Marquess, who usually carried himself in a high-and-mighty manner, would be as soft and amenable as he was now --- most of the time, Wiltshire was an indolent aristocrat, but in Walker's eyes, he was nothing but a devilish maniac h.e.l.l-bent on pursuing s.e.xual pleasure.

“Could you pour me a gla.s.s of water?”

“Of course.” Walker reached for the cup by his side, and with clumsy movements, he helped Wiltshire to lean against his chest and fed him the water. But water was constantly dripping down the chin of the rather uncoordinated Marquess as he drank, and a large patch of Walker's trousers was soon sodden.

“Even an infant is more agile than you.” Walker did not know whether he should laugh or cry, and he couldn't help but to grouse.

“It’ll be fine, just change into another pair.” The originator of the whole trouble still dared to make his suggestion while wearing an innocent expression.

“They’re being washed.” Walker's face was deadpan, but his mind was thinking back to the scene where the Marquess had reduced his expensive trousers to a pile of shredded rags during one of the times he was seeking pleasure --- whenever Wiltshire's l.u.s.t was stoked, he would be unwilling to stomach any delays, even the little bit of time needed to undo b.u.t.tons would be too much.

“Then just wear mine.”

“As if I can fit into yours!” Walker could not think of any other response --- the man was obviously as tall as him, but his thigh seemed to be about a third slimmer than Walker's. The only thing he could be glad about was that he was not some woman, who might have gotten bothered about problems with his figure when met with such a comparison.

“Then just don’t wear anything!” Wiltshire grinned slowly; simply by looking at his expression, Walker immediately knew that he must be thinking about some off-coloured things. And coinciding with his imagination becoming rose-tinted, he seemed to have totally forgotten about being seasick.

“Now that you seem to have recovered, I shall leave for a while.” Lunch was only being served within a certain timeframe on the ship; Walker did not want to have to contend with the Marquess while he was still hungry.

“Oh, my head feels dizzy... I really feel like vomiting…” As if by magic, the Marquess face turned pale within a split second, he clung to Walker's thigh fiercely and from his expression, he looked as if he were about to throw up.

From the way he looked, he genuinely did not seem to be putting up an act, and Walker could only give up on the idea of leaving the room. “If you dislike travelling by sea so much, why do you still want to go to France?”

Wiltshire had completely neglected to explain to him what the purpose of this trip was, but Walker also found himself to be very deplorable for how he had gotten muddle-headed because of Wiltshire's superlative s.e.xual technique and had hastily agreed to go on this trip in that state of mind --- Walker began to experience intense self-loathing; in the twenty-six years he had lived, his lifestyle had been one that was quite ascetic, but after meeting Wiltshire, this form of self-control seemed to have completely collapsed.

“……”Wiltshire fell silent. It was rare that he would wear an expression that approximated awkwardness, and from that, Walker knew that the reason for the trip must be of great import.

“If you don’t wish to talk about it, you don’t have to.” Actually, Walker did not really want to know; for him, the only reason he was going on this trip was because of the job that the Marquess had promised to him.

“If I tell you, could you…” Again, Wiltshire wore an ill-intentioned smile, and he also placed his hand on Walker's thigh in a most dishonest fashion, slowly creeping upwards...

Walker knocked his hand off roughly, and with a grim expression on his face, he said: “If you still have that type of strength, then I’ve very sorry but I think that there is no longer a need for me to stay here and look after you.”

“Don’t!” Wiltshire hurried to grab on to Walker, who was about to leave and said: “Alright, I'll tell you. In actual fact, I really do need your help.” 

There was sincerity in his eyes, and this air of gravitas was something that Walker had never seen from the Marquess before, causing him to quieten down.　　

Re-seating himself by the bed, Walker said solemnly: “I guarantee that I will keep what I am about to hear a secret.”

Wiltshire looked at him, seeing that the Scotsman's eyes were resolute and limpid, the Marquess nodded.

“Alright.” He said.

In that instant, Walker felt that a completely new kind of connection seemed to have been forged between the two of them --- it had nothing to do with s.e.x or other matters, instead it was purely one of mutual trust between two men.

Wiltshire gave a soft sigh, gave a swallow, and finally began his narrative: “Do you know who Princess Caroline is?”

Walker furrowed his brows, the name Caroline seemed to be quite familiar, he seemed to have heard somebody mention it before, but at that moment, he could not quite recall who she was.

“She is the Prince Regent’s daughter.” Seeing that Walker's expression was hesitant, Wiltshire gave him a reminder, and Walker immediately remembered that he had heard someone mention that name during the last party he had attended with Wiltshire.

“She went missing two weeks ago!” The Marquis announced.

Walker was so surprised that his mouth was wide open --- Princess Caroline was the Prince Regent's only daughter and she was in line to inherit the throne after her father; her disappearance would be headline-making news that would send shockwaves throughout the entire British Empire.

“Well actually, she can't be said to be missing, she left a letter for her father, saying that she was eloping with a French aristocrat. And that d.a.m.ned Henry actually picked me to go and help him retrieve his daughter; he even said some nonsense like people would not suspect me of having been entrusted with such a weighty mission because of my reputation for being idle and disdainful of any kind of work! G.o.dd.a.m.n it, really!” Wiltshire was unable to resist and heaped another curse upon the Prince Regent. 

The Princess's elopement would definitely be one of the biggest scandals that came out of England in that century if it were revealed to the public, and Walker was very much stunned that Wiltshire would actually tell him about such a momentous piece of news.

“Now that you know why I am going to France, so, can you help me?” The Marquess asked his question with a grave expression on his face and Walker couldn't help but be moved by the trust Wiltshire had placed in him --- although he knew that the reason he had invested this type of trust in him was related to the intimate relationship they shared, but as an aristocrat, Wiltshire had some characteristics that other people of his social station would not have.

“Yes.” Walker also used a rather serious tone of voice to make his reply. Looking straight at Wiltshire, he straightened his back.

A smile slowly blossomed on Wiltshire's face. He leaned his body close, and slowly planted a long kiss on Walker's lips --- sealed with a kiss.

A long time later, whenever wandering minstrels would recount this legendary saga, the relationship between the Marquess of Wiltshire and Walker Robinson would be portrayed as one of a pair of master and servant. In their poems, the Marquess would be a knight who was both possessed of both bravery and wisdom, and as for Walker, he would be the Marquess's faithful servant and bodyguard. The bards would unreservedly make proclamations about the stirring love story between the Princess and the Marquess, but never did they ever speak of the true story behind this romantic tale of two warriors and their quest to rescue a princess.


End of Jus Primae Noctis Volume 1

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[1]: 哈维港 (hā wéi gǎng): most search results point to this being Port Harvey in Canada, but I think it’s probably Le Havre in France, which was a common entryway into France for British travellers embarking on their Grand Tour.

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