The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1250: Epilogue 23 - The One Who Is Above All (4)

"You clearly are interested, Commander."

Myrcella didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. The way she said it with a soft, knowing, almost amused was enough to make the air between them feel heavier.

She moved around Lilia slowly and deliberately, like a snake that had already decided its prey wasn’t going anywhere. One smooth step. Then another. The faint brush of fabric. The whisper of breath against skin. She circled once, then again, her presence tightening with every pass, until she finally slipped behind her.

And then she coiled.

Her arms slid around Lilia’s body with unsettling ease, hands traveling across her frame as if mapping territory she had long intended to claim. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was patient. Confident. Almost playful in the way a predator plays with something it knows can’t escape.

Lilia’s body stiffened.

But she didn’t move.

It was as if invisible chains had wrapped around her limbs. Her muscles refused to obey her. She, the Commander—the woman who could command knights, bend wills, and even shape outcomes of a battle—stood there unable to take even a single step away.

If Lilia possessed authority, then Myrcella possessed something entirely different.

And that was charisma.

It burned quietly, like a low flame that slowly consumed everything around it. And right now, that flame was licking at Lilia’s defenses, melting them one by one.

I could almost see it. The darkness gathering around Myrcella like a cloak, curling and weaving through the air as she held Lilia from behind. It wasn’t literal darkness, maybe. But it felt like it.

Lilia’s cheeks flushed.

That alone was shocking enough.

Then Myrcella’s hand moved with deliberate boldness and cupped one of Lilia’s breasts, fingers pressing, squeezing but not roughly, but not gently either. Just enough to remind her exactly who was in control of this moment.

"Nnnnhhh...!"

The sound slipped out of Lilia before she could stop it.

Myrcella leaned closer, her lips near Lilia’s ear. "You’re breathing kind of heavy," she murmured, almost teasing. "Are you sure you want to leave?"

"G-Get away from me."

The stutter betrayed her more than anything else could have.

"Are you really sure?" Myrcella asked softly, as if she were offering her one last chance to think it over.

It didn’t look like force.

It didn’t even look like a struggle.

And somehow, that made it worse.

It felt like Myrcella wasn’t just touching her body.

She was slipping into her mind, threading herself through Lilia’s thoughts, wrapping around them the same way she wrapped around her waist.

I honestly didn’t know when she had become like this.

There wasn’t a dramatic turning point on her at all, not even a thunderclap. There was no obvious shift.

It was like someone had flipped a switch inside her, and suddenly the girl who is a little bit naive in terms of a lot of things was gone.

In her place stood someone else.

She was someone sharper.

She was someone who understood exactly what she was doing.

Even I was caught off guard.

Well... not entirely. Looking back, maybe the signs were always there. She had always observed more than she let on. Maybe this was just her finally stepping out of the shadow she’d been standing in.

Right now, Myrcella looked like someone who had shed her skin.

Like a caterpillar breaking out of its cocoon, tearing through the fragile shell that once confined it. Wings unfolding. Fragile at first, but beautiful. And dangerous in their own quiet way.

And with those wings spread wide, she was standing toe to toe with the Commander, and she was winning.

"W-What...?" Lilia’s voice shook despite her effort to steady it. "I told you to stop."

"Do you understand your authority, Commander Lilia?" Myrcella asked calmly, her tone no longer teasing but measured. "I don’t think it’s as overpowered as you believe."

"W-What...?"

She wasn’t mocking her.

She was analyzing her.

Even I had noticed it before. Lilia’s ability felt overwhelming, yes—but not invincible. There were cracks. There were limits. There were conditions that weren’t obvious at first glance.

"I’m sorry for doubting you, Commander," Myrcella continued. "I doubted you many times. Especially when I saw how you acted around my father. I thought you were manipulating him."

There was no hostility in her voice now. It was just honesty.

"But I gained a little insight about your ability," she went on. "You can’t control or command someone who holds higher authority than you."

Lilia’s eyes widened.

She opened her mouth as if to deny it, but no words came out. Her lips parted, then closed again. It was like something was physically stopping her from speaking.

"Your power as a Commander cannot command me," Myrcella said quietly. "I am a princess of the kingdom you serve."

Silence stretched.

Then Lilia exhaled, tension pulling at the edges of her composure.

"You figured that out," she admitted. "As expected of a princess."

There was a faint, almost reluctant respect in her tone.

"That’s right. I can’t use my power on those who hold higher authority than me. Why do you think this palace isn’t already in my hands? Not that I want the crown," she added quickly. "But if I could, it would have been simple."

Her gaze shifted.

To me.

"There are also anomalies," she continued. "Even when the distinction of authority is clear, there are people I can’t command. It’s as if something blocks them."

I knew what she meant.

Me.

And Veronica.

The difference in authority between us was obvious. With Veronica, maybe it wasn’t as wide—but still enough that it should have worked.

Yet it didn’t.

We were different.

We were Fragments of Lilith.

That alone explained more than we were comfortable admitting.

"So you have no authority over me, Lilia," Myrcella said.

She didn’t call her the Commander.

Just Lilia.

The shift in address wasn’t accidental.

It was a statement.

Her hand continued its slow kneading motion, and Lilia’s strength seemed to leak out of her body with every second. Her shoulders, once rigid, began to slacken.

She closed her eyes.

And she let it happen.

That was the part that unsettled me the most.

The Commander was stronger. She was physically and potentially mentally stronger than Myrcella. In sheer presence alone, she should have been able to break free.

But she didn’t.

It felt less like she was being restrained—and more like she was being rewritten.

Myrcella wasn’t overpowering her with force.

She was rooting herself inside her.

***

Lilia’s POV

What is happening right now?

No, seriously. What is this?

I should be able to step away.

That’s the logical thing to do.

Just move.

Twist. Push her off. Command her if necessary.

But my body refuses.

It’s like my feet have grown roots into the marble floor. Like I’m some ornamental statue placed here for display.

And the worst part?

I don’t feel the urgency I should.

That terrifies me.

He’s looking at me.

I can feel his gaze even without turning my head.

It’s not subtle. It’s not shy. It’s the kind of look that makes your skin aware of itself. As if his eyes are hands, tracing lines they haven’t even touched yet.

It feels like he’s undressing me without lifting a finger.

I hate that I notice it.

I hate that I care.

Something is slipping into my mind. Soft at first. Like a whisper. Then thicker. Then warmer.

It’s not loud. It’s not forceful.

It was persuasive.

That’s worse.

I can hold it back for a second. Maybe two seconds.

But it keeps coming.

I have to stop this.

I have to.

Because if I don’t—

If I let this continue—

I might actually fall.

And I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand back up again.