Chapter 9

As Dagon looked confused, the priest cheerfully intervened.  

“Ah, Dagon. The temple is unveiling new relics in the exhibition hall. You’re welcome to take a look. Here! Please guide him to the exhibition hall.”  

The high priest called over a passing junior priest to take care of Dagon.  

“Well… As you wish, Your Grace, I’ll come fetch you after your prayers. It was nice meeting you, Priest.”  

With Dagon sent off, Aaron and the high priest continued walking.  

The priest seemed intent on properly hosting Aaron, a major donor and royal guest. He kept glancing at Aaron and tried to explain the crowded ceiling frescoes and statues in the temple’s VIP area.  

Aaron grew quietly annoyed at the priest’s constant talk of things he didn’t care about.  

He was tormented by a humiliating thief of his virginity, unable to tell anyone, so what did artistic frescoes matter?  

“I have a request.”  

The high priest, caught off guard by the lack of enthusiasm, brightened.  

“Please, tell me anything.”  

“I plan to pray by penance. I’d like you to prepare the tools.”  

“Excuse me?”  

Surprised, the priest made a silly sound. Aaron clicked his tongue at the priest’s slow response.  

Among prayer methods, there was one involving inflicting physical pain on oneself. Usually, one whipped their own back during penitent prayer. Even among priests, this was considered harsh and was now rarely practiced.  

“Is my request hard to understand?”  

Aaron had sent Dagon away just to make this request. His devoted aide would have stopped him immediately if he’d known.  

“No, no, it’s not that. But, Your Grace, why would …”  

Aaron was determined to drive out the l*st demon. Even now, the witch’s body lingered in his mind, causing unwanted arousal—a very urgent problem.  

He had no intention of explaining the reason, so he pressed his lips together in silence.  

The priest, assuming Aaron was just talking, gently suggested reconsideration.  

“Please think again. I don’t know where you learned penitent prayer, but our god hears even simple prayers if you’re sincere.”  

“I need a lot of sincerity.”  

When Aaron didn’t budge, the priest grew flustered and wiped sweat from his brow.  

It was well known that Dowager Elaine cherished her youngest son. If Aaron got seriously injured during temple prayer, the royal family would surely blame the temple.  

“Preparing the tools isn’t difficult, but… Your Grace, if you suffer serious injury, the Dowager would be worried.”  

Trying to avoid trouble, the priest changed the subject. Aaron, catching on, barely held back his annoyance.  

“My body is mine, not my mother’s. It’s fine. I don’t plan to brag about penitent prayer, and my intent is only sincerity. So please keep it secret.”  

With such a firm stance, refusal was impossible.  

“…Duke, you’re truly devout!”  

Moved, the priest rejoiced that the kingdom had someone like Duke Aaron Denicar.  

He led Aaron to the personal prayer room, then happily fetched the penitent prayer tools himself. With a slightly flushed face, he explained,  

“It’s a leather whip. Kneel and strike your back with it. It’s not made for t*rture, so it won’t hurt enough to kill. If you’d like it a bit harsher, you can soak it in water…”  

Aaron handled the whip gently. It was old but soft, suggesting it was chosen with a beginner in mind. As the priest said, so long as he didn’t hit too hard, it wouldn’t be unbearable.  

“If you need anything, just call. And, um, after you’re done, I can give you a warm compress.”  

The priest bowed politely and left the prayer room. Thud—the oak door closed. Aaron looked around.  

Even for a high noble’s personal prayer room, it was a modest space, like a small stone chamber.  

In front of the holy image was a chest for offerings and a soft cushion for kneeling in prayer.  

A solemn and sacred place.  

Ah, next time, how about a religious facility…? Hehe.  

The witch’s expectant voice, hands piously clasped…  

“…D*mn!”  

He thought of the witch again. It was inevitable. No man could resist the witch’s beautiful body and maddening temptations. Suddenly, a thought struck him.  

‘That witch… I’m probably not her first.’

She didn’t seem experienced in intimacy, but when it came to teasing a man’s body, she was unmistakably a professional. Perhaps the witch wasn’t only toying with Aaron. Competition… No, there might be more victims out there.

Aaron found himself grinding his teeth unconsciously, then furrowed his brow. The surge of anger was unfamiliar. A fire with no known source was raging fiercely in his heart. He pressed his hand to his chest, trying to regain composure, but failed.

With a grim expression, Aaron ignored the cushion and knelt directly on the bare floor. His movements were so rough that a thud echoed through the room.

Cold seeped up from the stone floor. Yet that chill wasn’t enough to drive out the heat slowly pooling inside him. After all, he couldn’t rub himself on the bare floor.

With a determined look, Aaron took off his shirt. Before his broad shoulders could even shiver in the chilly air—

Thwack!

He grabbed the whip the priest had left and struck his own back.

“Ugh!”

It hurt more than he expected.

The whip was made of soft leather to avoid serious injury, but it was strong enough to leave red lines across his back.

It was painful, but bearable. No, he had to bear it. Aaron clenched his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw stood out, and kept swinging his arm.

Thwack!

“Grr! D*mn, that cursed witch…!”

Lately, that damned witch’s pale n*ked body had been clouding his mind. It was almost as if he was being forced, by the sorcery of a woman he had no feelings for… Why did he keep dwelling on it?

More than shame, a faint sense of anticipation and excitement was gradually corrupting him. Yes, this was corruption.

Thwack!

“Ugh, d-disappear!”

He hadn’t moved much, but sweat dotted his forehead. His manhood stood stiff. He rubbed his goosebump-covered forearm in the cold air, and his hand brushed his n*pple.

“Ah.”

At the same time, a strange touch replayed in his mind, making his n*pple tingle. The impulsive thought flashed through: he wished that woman would touch his chest.

“My god…”

Aaron dropped the whip in shock.

Aaron Denicar, not even ashamed of such thoughts? Being tamed by the witch!

He’d come to cleanse his mind with penitent prayer, but was it having the opposite effect? Aaron felt wronged.

Come to think of it, the sound of the whip—thwack—was oddly similar to the sound made at the peak of his flesh pressed against the witch.

“……!”

Stunned, Aaron panted, unable to breathe evenly.

Was the end of this sorcery… possession by a l*st demon?

…It seemed half successful already.

Aaron was suddenly afraid. He’d have to whip himself much longer than expected. Quickly picking up the fallen whip, he squeezed his eyes shut and swung his arm again.

Thwack, thwack!

Again and again, he carved pain into his reddened back.

“Grrr…”

Struggling to suppress the fantasy of plunging himself into the witch’s lewd depths.

***

“What a beautiful day, Lady Neria.”

Marie, looking out the carriage window, spoke cheerfully.

Marie, who usually worked all day in the mansion unless it was a holiday or an errand, seemed delighted to be out with her for a change.

“It is.”

Neria sat on the carriage seat, wearing the modest outing dress Marie had chosen for her.

The only family carriage had been taken by her mother for a meeting, so Neria had to hail a carriage by the roadside with her maid.

Earl Warwick, who had banned her from going out as punishment for ruining the meeting with the Duke, seemed frustrated seeing Neria idling at home. A father whose mood swings became his standard for discipline.

Their destination was the temple. The purpose: prayers for safety and delivering donations.

Earl Warwick, true to his penny-pinching nature, wasn’t devoted to religion. He didn’t like donating to the temple, but perhaps for appearances, he regularly sent Neria to offer donations and pray.

‘Father’s so serious about marriage business, he has to stay on good terms with the temple.’

Since ancient times, marriage law had been overseen by religious organizations.

Because of this tradition, marriages had to be officiated by temple priests to be recognized, and if disputes arose, they were sometimes settled by the temple rather than the courts, making relationships important.

“Oh, we must be here.”

When the carriage stopped, Neria opened the door and stepped out.

Marie, who had argued over the fare, grumbled as she got out.

“Ugh, carriage fares keep going up.”

Neria smiled gently.

“Marie, do you have any money left?”

“Of course.”

“Let’s buy some snacks on the way back from prayers.”

Marie’s face lit up and she nodded vigorously.

“Yes, My Lady!”

Neria’s mood improved as well. Lately, she hadn’t been allowed any snacks at home for fear of gaining weight, and it was driving her crazy.

It was almost laughable to be denied snacks at her age. Earl Warwick liked to control his children regardless of their age.

“My Lady, I have to go this way. I’ll meet you in front of the temple later.”

“Okay.”

Since even the spaces they could use were different, Neria parted ways with Marie.

Though her donation was modest, her noble status meant a middle-ranking priest came out to greet her.

Neria politely handed over the donation and received a receipt from the priest. Then she was guided alone to the prayer room reserved for nobles.