The red wine swirled as it filled the glass. Eagerly, Elliope raised it to her lips and drank. The liquid disappeared between her lips, which were as crimson as the wine itself. 

‘They said there was no poison in it.’ 

But from Elliope’s point of view, even if the wine had been poisoned, it wouldn’t have mattered. 

Because… 

“Did you hear how he died?” 

The words slipped out of her mouth on their own. Though she had only taken a sip, she felt a wave of intoxication wash over her. At that moment, it felt like she could finally say everything she’d been holding back, all the words she’d never been able to say. 

“I heard he overexerted himself while cavorting with pr*stitutes.” 

“As far as I know, that was not the cause.” 

“How surprising to find someone here who knows even less about His Grace’s affairs than I do.” 

Elliope replied with an exasperated smile. Kallian, who had emptied his glass, remained perfectly still. 

Without taking her eyes from the coffin, she wore a faint, bitter smile. 

“He was such a cruel man, even to the end.” 

“…….” 

“To die like that… such a shameful death…” 

“Are you drunk from just one glass?” 

The cold answer came, but it didn’t sting her as it might have before. 

“You must be heartbroken.”

“Are there any subjects in the Duchy who wouldn’t be?” 

“Well, you’ve always been loyal to him, haven’t you?” 

“……” 

“No matter how much you were humiliated and cast aside… much like me.” 

Laughter, unrestrained and bitter, spilled from lips that had rarely known the comfort of true joy. 

“Ha… ha ha ha ha ha…” 

She leaned forward, laughing so hard that tears prickled the corners of her eyes. Only then did she feel a fleeting sense of relief. But soon a strange sensation crept through her body – a strange itch, a rising warmth. 

Elliope’s hand flailed in the air before landing on the man’s forearm. She felt him flinch at her touch.

Normally she would have been startled and withdrawn her hand quickly, but this time she couldn’t bring herself to let go. Through the thick fabric of his well-fitting clothes, she could feel the solid, powerful muscles of his arm. 

Leaning against him, Elliope cried and laughed, finding comfort in the sheer stability he offered, like a sturdy stepping stone beneath her. 

“Ha… ha ha…” 

But the more she laughed, the more the itch in her body intensified. It felt like a fiery flower was spreading inside her, threatening to consume her completely. She desperately wished that someone would reach in and pull out the burning sensation that was driving her mad. 

“Ha… ah…” 

A hot breath escaped her lips. 

‘Something’s wrong.’ 

Feeling an inexplicable sensation creep over her, she slowly lifted her head, only to be met by a pair of burning eyes staring back at her. 

“Elliope.”

Elliope found herself unintentionally staring into those heated eyes. The longer she looked, the more dazed she felt, as if she were falling into a trance. 

‘Is this how a predator looks at its prey?’ 

The thought sent a shiver down the back of her neck, giving her goosebumps. 

“To call me so familiarly, sir…” 

The next thing she knew, a large, warm hand was gripping her waist. Startled, she blinked her eyes slowly, then opened them. 

“Sir Kallian?” 

Before Elliope could speak, a strong hand slipped into the neckline of the neatly tailored black dress she had worn to the funeral. 

The neckline of her dress was roughly pulled apart.

“Ah!”

The ample, pale br*asts hidden beneath the dress were cupped by rough hands, their softness leaking through the gaps between thick fingers.

Soon the man began to caress the smooth, creamy skin. The soft curves shifted and moulded under the varying pressure of his touch.

The pink n*pples, delicately perched at the tips, began to harden and stand *rect. 

“…Ah, ugh!” 

“…….” 

“Sir… Kallian?” 

It was an utterly unfamiliar sensation to have a man, sculpted like a work of art by nature itself, fix his heated gaze on her as he moved closer with his lower body. 

It was strange that she didn’t feel the urge to push him away. Instead, she felt her body welcome the contact. Even though this was Elliope’s first experience, that was how she felt. 

‘Wasn’t he supposed to be known for his strict self-control?’

He was the complete opposite of her husband, who was known to avoid the company of women. So much so that it was rumoured that he despised women. 

“Even then, you…”    

This man had once entered her husband’s bedroom. 

It was late at night when an urgent report came in from the border. 

“Come in.” 

The only one who flinched at those words was Elliope, standing n*ked – or nearly so – in the corner. 

The pr*stitutes giggled and made no effort to cover themselves. On the contrary, they continued their lewd movements, turning their backs on the Grand Duke and positioning themselves so that their bodies were fully exposed to the man entering through the door. 

“Your Grace.” 

Kallian’s gaze shifted between Elliope, standing in the corner in a state of vulnerability, and her husband, entangled with the pr*stitutes on the bed. His expression didn’t change. 

If anything, he looked so cold as to border on unnervingly detached. 

Even the pr*stitute straddling the Grand Duke, who had been moving her hips in a shameless rhythm, stopped her moaning and cast a suspicious glance at Kallian, sensing the charged tension in the air. 

At the moment when even the atmosphere seemed to freeze, Kallian’s gaze flickered briefly in Elliope’s direction. 

Despite his icy demeanour, his eyes burned with a fire so intense that she could almost feel its heat. 

It was clear – he was angry. 

And the fiery glare he directed at her was undoubtedly filled with contempt. 

“You’re ruining the fun. Are you going to join in and take responsibility?” 

“I’ll report later.”

Kallian replied quietly and turned to leave. 

Elliope remembered her husband stopping him and deliberately calling him back. 

“You said it was an urgent report.” 

She remembered Theodor’s gaze shifting to her as he spoke. 

Only then did Elliope realise that she was standing in the room, soaked and almost n*ked, in the presence of her husband’s most loyal lieutenant. But even then, there was nothing she could do. 

All she could do was cross her arms and clasp her hands to her br*ast in a feeble attempt to cover her exposed body. 

What followed was a report that felt interminably long, even if it was short. Through it all, Kallian never once looked in her direction. 

‘I was sure then.’

From his reaction, she had believed that the rumours of his misogyny must be true – that he only found excitement on the battlefield, tearing and crushing his enemies. 

‘I had no doubt.’ 

And yet here he was, before the lifeless body of the lord he served, trying to make love to his lord’s widow. 

The surreal nature of the situation numbed her sense of reality. Her strength had already left her arms, making it impossible to push him away, and her own body was growing feverish. 

Her once pale neck was now flushed. 

“Ah.”

She could feel her body willingly accepting Kallian’s rough intrusion. At the moment she desperately wanted him to come closer, a wet sensation emerged from within. A lewd, crunching sound came from her lower body. 

“Ugh…”

Soon the partially fastened neckline of her dress was abruptly and violently pulled down. Her gathered br*ast spilled out, bouncing slightly as it was exposed. The cold air sent shivers down her spine. 

His warm hand cupped her br*ast again, as if to provide warmth. Elliope let out a helpless moan as the sensitive tip of her br*ast, trapped between thumb and forefinger, was tugged and teased.

“Ahhhh.”

The fingers of his other hand slowly lifted Elliope’s dress, finding their way to a place untouched even in her marriage. The unfamiliar sensation of another’s touch in such an intimate place was strangely foreign to her.

“Ah, wait! Sir Kallian!”

The moment a finger circled her cl*toris, her body jerked slightly in response.

“Ahhh!”

It felt as if a small bolt of lightning had struck her body. The dizzying sensation that ran through her made her toes instinctively curl. 

Not missing her reaction, Kallian moved his hand deliberately. More than just circling, his fingers pressed rhythmically, eliciting a shuddering, sobbing moan from Elliope. 

“Ah… ugh… ah!” 

The overwhelming stimulation caused Elliope’s mind to flash repeatedly, as if struck by lightning. When she opened her mouth, sounds that no proper lady should make spilled out uncontrollably. Her voice, loud enough that she feared someone might hear it, carried a mixture of despair and shame. 

“Ha… ugh… hh… ah… ahhh…” 

“You’re quite vocal, Your Highness.”

To be addressed by that title instead of “Grand Duchess” was something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

“Ah… ah…” 

“I always thought you were the quiet type…”

Kallian whispered, his words tinged with the distinct scent of alcohol. 

‘…wine.’ 

Her thoughts finally landed on the wine the maid had given her. 

“Ha…” 

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. So this was what the maid had meant by saving her life. 

‘They must have put a drug in it.’ 

The realisation hit her like a bitter irony. At this rate, the outcome of her situation was all too predictable. 

 The Imperial family would argue that since she was the Grand Duchess, she should inherit the Grand Duchy. On the other hand, those in the Grand Duchy who knew the truth would claim that the marriage was never consummated and therefore never valid. 

In the midst of this dispute, Elliope’s already fragile honour would be completely shattered, disregarded by all parties. 

The inevitable conclusion to this sordid affair would likely be her return to the Imperial family, only to be sold to another man, a pawn in their endless political games. 

Even that was a best-case scenario. 

‘There’s a high probability that I’ll be killed instead.’ 

But if she were to become another man’s wife before that happened, the story would change completely. 

A knight who values honour above all else – like Kallian Icerick. If she were to marry him, as one of his most loyal knights, he would have no choice but to marry her to protect her honour as a lady. 

In that case, Elliope could stay in Ilmos, even in this land that despised her. At least she would have a place to live. 

To escape the political power struggles and live as another man’s wife – even if vile rumours spread accusing her of seducing her husband’s knight to conspire with him – seemed the only way forward. 

Whatever the outcome, the rest of her life would be shrouded in disgrace. Still, the handmaiden must have felt that living in shame was better than dying. In her own way, it was the maid’s version of kindness. 

A dull pain throbbed deep in her chest. Elliope wanted to laugh, cry and scream all at once. 

“Ah… ugh, ugh…” 

Finally, soft sobs escaped her lips – not from heartbreak, but from the overwhelming heat consuming her body. 

Her unfamiliar body was being gripped and manipulated by alien hands, leaving her completely defenceless. 

“Ah… hng…” 

As her legs weakened beneath her, Elliope fought to gather her strength. She felt the grip on her body tighten, holding her upright as she faltered.