Lewd King's Bucket List-Chapter 55: Un Dia para Recordar

Ixion (in the body of Pirithous) rifled through the closet.

After finding the perfect clothes a layman would wear that were in serviceable condition, he slipped them on, stared in the mirror, and combed his hair.

Pirithous, as with all the puppets Ixion commandeered, was once a criminal.

His original name was Gwen, and he had a grudge against the Marquise he served, who refused to lend him medicine when his wife grew ill.

The fateful night his wife died, he stormed the Marquis’s manor. Of course, one Knight couldn’t dare to raid a noble’s house and actually succeed in their vengeful quest.

The young Gwen didn’t even get past the front gate before he was apprehended and brought before the King for execution.

’Yet, I had decided to send him into the dungeon for ’eternal imprisonment’.’

Ixion clicked his tongue as he made his way onto the near-vacant cobbled streets, mostly populated by patrols.

Yet, Gwen was indeed executed. But it was done in secrecy and by way of Soul Shatter.

Which sounded horrific, but it was actually a mercy.

A shattered soul can’t be corrupted or rebirthed...

After the execution, he let Gwen’s face fade in people’s memory. Then permanently dyed his black hair blond with [Noble].

Finally, Zabaniyah purchased Gwen’s house, and Ixion hid the body there.

Ixion’s jaw tightened. He kicked a rock as he sauntered on.

There was a reason for the mass of patrols here. Nobles were skittish these days. Assassins and thieves had made sure of that.

Ixion closed his eyes and whistled to himself as he walked along.

When all of a sudden, a high-pitched voice sounded from behind him.

"That melody... where have I heard it before?"

Ixion stopped his tune and looked back.

Behind him was a beautiful woman who looked a little younger than he. Her hair pale as moonlit frost hair, blue eyes like chipped glacier glass, and lacquered nails like polished porcelain. Her skin was fair, and her lips were a glossy shade of light pink.

Yet, despite her noble appearance, she wore quite mundane clothing.

A brown tunic, black trousers, and common loafers. Topped by a floppy brown hat.

It didn’t really go together. Nor did it fit her form.

’Huh?’

Even odder...

’I don’t recognize her.’

How did Ixion not know someone this alluring existed in his kingdom?

’And her soul...’

It was like nothing Ixion had ever seen.

If Ixion didn’t recognize her and her soul was like such...

Yehran’s words reverberated in his mind:

’Strong men and women don’t go unnamed in this day and age unless they are dangerous or backed by someone even more dangerous.’

And beauty...

Beauty was one of the most dangerous strengths of all.

Ixion studied the woman’s slender form.

"It’s a military thing. A soldier hums it as they march into battle. It’s not a required thing... It’s sort of a good fortune ritual. Though I don’t know who started it."

She smiled, flashing her white teeth.

"You look so young, and you’re a soldier?"

Ixion shifted his feet and turned in full to face her.

Growing a wistful look, he said:

"My older brother taught it to me. Though he’s gone now."

The platinum-haired woman shrieked:

"Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories!"

Ixion chuckled lightly and waved his hand.

"No worries. He’s not dead. He just went mad and shouted that he wanted to become a god. Then ran off."

The woman looked a little confused, but nodded as if it made sense.

"Oh... I see."

Ixion smiled, then asked:

"How would a noble lass such as yourself know it?"

Her head recoiled as if he uttered a terrible lie.

"Noble? Whatever do you mean? Do you not see my clothing?!"

"I don’t think any commoner has the opportunity and coin to afford painting their nails, would they? Plus, your hair is much too clean and neat. Your skin unblemished and fed."

The woman’s expression twisted.

"Fed?! Are you calling me fat?"

Ixion stepped back as she stepped toward him.

Ixion laughed and yelled:

"Heavens no! I was saying you don’t look like you’re starving like most commoners!"

The woman silently stared for a few moments, her face drifting closer. Then, in one fluid motion, she stepped away and doubled over, gripping her stomach as she laughed boisterously.

"Bah! I’m just teasing you!"

Then she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"But was it that obvious I’m a noble?! I put so much effort into this costume!"

’How did someone like her go under my radar?’

"If that’s what you call effort, I’m afraid your future is bleak. It takes much more effort in this world than praying people are stupid and naïve."

The woman placed a hand on her chest and feigned offense.

"Isn’t that a little harsh to say to a dainty noble lass trying her best?"

"Trying your best to get captured and sold for ransom! What is someone as beautiful as you doing walking around without a bodyguard?"

She put her hands on her cheeks and blushed.

"A pretty boy calling me beautiful. My dreams have finally come true!"

Ixion let loose a shallow breath.

"On a serious note, these streets are not safe for someone like you." Ixion looked over at a passing patrol, then mumbled quietly, "Someone like you can’t count on the patrol. They’re not good people. They starve just like the rest of us."

The woman’s eyes faltered for a moment as she leered at the passing man. Then, she looked back at Pirithous (Ixion) and smiled warmly.

"Don’t worry about little old me. I can take care of myself. But, if you do wish to escort me on my outing, I wouldn’t mind."

Ixion returned the warm look.

"I would love to. I can also teach you how to better disguise like a commoner. Once you answer my question, of course."

The girl laughed as she walked and stood next to Ixion, gesturing for him to take her arm.

"Fine, fine. I don’t know if it’s right, else I wouldn’t have asked... But I think my father used to hum it around the manor."

Ixion bent his elbow, letting her take hold.

"Was your father a soldier?"

The woman greedily slipped her arm and locked it in his, then said:

"Yes! A general even! Though I was supposed to keep that a secret. Oops!"

’Huh?!’

A daughter of a general? One Ixion didn’t know?

’Is she lying?’

Or was one of his closest comrades unfaithful even back then?

The two, linked at the arm, began to walk slowly down the street.

The woman leaned forward and said:

"I’m Dia, by the way. Nice to meet you."

Ixion’s head lowered and looked down, catching a glimpse of her slender shoulder, noticing the edge of a scar.

"Pirithous. But you can call me Piri."