It was too reddish to be called a scabbard or club. Moreover, its round head like an overturned teacup, the plump rim protruding below it, and the hot heat and taut elasticity she had clearly felt through the nightgown when she had held it in her hand just now.

While Lariella was carefully reasoning about the existence of this thing, the duke began to slowly move his hand gripping the pole up and down.

When his hand moved upward, Lariella clearly confirmed that it was neither inserted between his legs nor placed on his groin. It was firmly embedded in his crotch.

This was unmistakably “it.”

According to Murina’s description, “it” was attached between a man’s legs and swelled up large and hard when excited—the male c*ck!

But he was a “eunuch”? Why did a “eunuch” have something like this attached? And of a size comparable to Mrs. Tara’s wooden pestle?

It was completely incomprehensible. Lariella tilted her head and carefully recalled what the ladies had been vulgarly discussing.

Ah, so he’s missing his t*sticles.

But there was one round lump hanging below the wooden pestle, and another one next to it. He definitely had two t*sticles. So what was embedded in his crotch perfectly matched the shape Murina had described to her.

“Haah, haaah.”

While Lariella remained bewildered, the duke continued moving his hand.

Though he didn’t seem to have woken up, he moved his hand with practiced familiarity.

He wasn’t just gently rubbing up and down anymore. He gripped the thick thing tightly and shook it vigorously. When he moved his hand forcefully, the tip of the pole twitched and oozed transparent fluid.

The fluid, which had formed into round droplets before dripping down, made a peculiar squelching sound as his hand rubbed against the moistened pole. His initially quiet moans grew increasingly rough.

Goodness, why am I feeling this way?

Though she was merely watching, the more intense his actions became, the hotter she felt below her navel. Lariella panted shallow breaths through her parted lips. Soon her thighs began to itch unbearably, and something warm flowing from inside dampened her underwear.

Lariella crossed her legs tightly and tensed her thighs, like someone desperately holding in urine. This made her hips twitch involuntarily, creating a subtle friction between her legs. But it was far from enough.

She couldn’t focus, torn between the impulse to shove something between her legs and rub vigorously and the rational knowledge that she shouldn’t do such a thing.

“Hngh, aah, ha!”

The duke now bucked his hips too.

He thrust his c*ck forcefully into his tightly curled large hand while lifting his muscular waist and b*ttocks into the air, creating loud slapping sounds as his hand edge and groin collided.

Imagining that thing plunging into the deep hole hidden between her legs made Lariella feel like her mind was going blank.

She lifted the hem of her long nightgown and slipped her small hand into her damp underwear. She wasn’t doing this knowingly; her body moved instinctively.

She was about to slide her slender finger along the slit, parting the coarse pubic hair, when the duke, who had been roughly shaking his c*ck like he wanted to pull it off, suddenly let out a loud groan.

“Kugh! Ugh!”

Simultaneously, thick white fluid erupted from the tip of his thick c*ck. The forcefully ejected fluid splashed up onto his thick chest, sharp chin, and even spattered onto his smooth cheek.

Startled by this unfamiliar obscene sight, Lariella quickly lay down and pulled the blanket over her head.

What did I just see? Haah, and what was I about to do?

Her heart pounded wildly like someone caught doing something wrong. Her breathing remained rough, making her shoulders heave. Even with both hands tightly covering her mouth, moans like those of someone in pain kept escaping.

“Haah…… This is really driving me crazy.”

From outside the blanket came sounds of rustling and getting up, a long sigh, and low muttering. Soon she heard him leaving the bed, footsteps crossing the room, and the door opening and closing, all reaching her ears in sequence.

Lariella, who had been hiding under the blanket with only her eyes rolling around, threw the blanket open as soon as she heard the door close.

“Haah! Haah, ha……”

Bursting out her held breath, Lariella reviewed each scene stuck in her mind.

From the long, thick pole that had sprung out with a thump, to the white fluid that was clearly a man’s “seed,” to Duke Elmano’s furrowed brow as he exhaled his final groan.

It was too shocking to be reality, yet too vivid to be a dream. Moreover, she couldn’t deny the unfamiliar, fishy smell lingering in her nostrils.

An impressive size comparable to a wooden pestle, perfectly formed with two attached eggs, excellent function forcefully ejecting seed. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Duke Elmano’s c*ck.

Then why? Why on earth? For what possible reason? Why?

Until dawn broke and Elmano Castle’s diligent maids knocked on her bedroom door, Lariella had to blink her dazed eyes and repeat countless “whys” over and over again.

* * *

“So what exactly is the reason!”

Lariella closed the book she was reading with a thud.

This book also contained nothing about “why a man with a perfectly attached c*ck would refuse to sleep with a woman.”

No matter how much she racked her brain all morning or how many medical books she pored through in the library, she couldn’t find any answers. She felt like she would die either from curiosity or anger.

Only one option remained: confronting Duke Elmano directly.

She couldn’t bear it anymore, noble lady’s dignity be damned. After all the humiliation she had suffered inside and out because of the duke who had abandoned her, didn’t she at least have the right to demand an explanation?

Having firmly made up her mind, Lariella put down the book she was holding and stood up.

She passed through the lobby of the annex where the library was located and headed outside toward the garden where the latia was planted. She wanted to check if Duke Elmano was alone before knocking on his office door.

Walking briskly past rose vines with luscious blooms and the latia with such abundant leaves it was hard to tell whether it was a flower or a weed, she could see the office window in the distance. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

Sir Worklan, the duke’s cousin and commander of the Elmano territory’s knights, was leaning against the side of the duke’s desk. He must have returned from inspecting the territory, which he had left to do with his knights right after the duke’s wedding.

Sir Worklan, with his tall stature and robust physique similar to Duke Elmano’s, was a handsome man with reddish-brown hair and bright blue eyes. Not only did he look different from the duke, but his boyish, friendly smile and kind attitude toward everyone contrasted completely with the duke’s coldness.

If he had any flaw, it would be his womanizing tendencies due to his overwhelming popularity. According to Marie, the number of noble ladies showing interest in him could fill five or six four-wheeled carriages and still have some left over, indicating his immense popularity.

Thinking that Marie, who showed subtle interest in Sir Worklan, would be pleased to know he had returned, Lariella took a seat on a bench facing the office window. Having made up her mind with such difficulty, she decided to wait until Sir Worklan left.

Calmly sitting and staring blankly at the two men inside the window, Lariella suddenly stood up with an unintelligible cry.

“Uh, uhh…… uh!”

Duke Elmano, who had been sitting at his desk, abruptly stood up and roughly pushed Sir Worklan against the wall. Then he pressed against him, becoming completely overlapped.

What…… what are they doing?

With their backs to her, she couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but she could clearly tell they were standing very close together.

Almost like…… they were kissing.

Suddenly, the Countess of Tabanel’s nagging voice clearly echoed in Lariella’s mind.

‘Well, I know for sure now. Men who don’t sleep with women are either eunuchs or homosexuals.’

So the duke, who neither sleeps with women nor is a eunuch, is…… a ho-homosexual……

No way…… no matter what, there’s no way something so absurd could be true……

Lariella shook her head vigorously.

No. I’m not even sure. He may be cold, unfriendly, and rarely speaks, and sometimes he can be unpleasant, but he can’t possibly be that depraved.

But the two men visible in the office remained overlapped like one body, showing no signs of separating. Far from separating, Sir Worklan’s large hand wrapped around the duke’s thick nape, and the duke’s head tilted at an angle right in front of Sir Worklan’s face.

Lariella had once seen a couple secretly kissing at a ball she attended before her marriage. The man pushed the woman against a wall, covered her like they were becoming one, and they frantically sucked on each other’s lips. In exactly the same position as those two men over there.

Before she knew it, her vision blurred, and the images of the duke obscenely shaking his c*ck in the early dawn and Sir Worklan with his smiling eyes appeared side by side. They crossed over each other, overlapped, and spun around wildly.

Lariella retched with an “urgh” sound.

Though she had secretly glanced at him with resentment when he wouldn’t embrace her despite her efforts, she had never truly hated him. Even when she heard he was a “eunuch,” she felt upset and angry but didn’t genuinely despise him.

But this was different.

He sent her a proposal, married her, and left her without consummating their marriage—not because he was a “eunuch” but because he was a “homosexual.” And with his own cousin, no less.

This was something she simply couldn’t understand or tolerate.

Looking at the two men stuck together like one body through blurry eyes, Lariella hesitantly stepped backward. Then she turned around and fled the garden.

Only one person in the entire Bayaroman Empire could help her now.

Her wise, incredibly wise brother, Baron Ronais Polar.

Staggering back to her room like someone who had seen a ghost, Lariella wiped her reddened eyes several times and began writing a long, desperate letter to her brother.