Chapter 22

Thus, Karel decided to dismiss the woman’s tear-streaked, radiant face, filled with satisfaction, as nothing more than a byproduct of lust.  

A witch-like woman, a wanton woman, a woman who had come to know the taste of a man—surely, she was simply enjoying what he was giving her. Yes, it must have been just the pleasure of this carnal act that made her wear such a sorrowful expression. Surely, it was his intrusion, which had taken her innocence and captivated her, that she found so enjoyable.  

After all, he would soon leave.  

His thrusts became rougher.  

“Ah… ugh… hngh….”  

She had already endured his release three times. The light in her violet eyes was gradually dimming. Finally, he reached down to where their intertwined bodies met. His fingers brushed against the swollen, sensitive flesh that had grown taut from his repeated movements. As his fingers pressed against it, the pressure deepened with each thrust.  

“Aah… haah… hah… ngh….”  

Her ragged breathing, unable to form coherent moans, escaped her throat. A sharp sensation coursed through her body, radiating from the place where she held him.  

As he pushed her to the brink of climax time and again, Karel himself sought to erase all thoughts from his mind with the thrill of their union. He drove himself into her trembling walls over and over, hoping the pleasure extracted from the tight embrace of her inner folds would somehow wash away the guilt that clung to him.  

Why?  

Why had fate cursed her with such a rare beauty, even in a place as remote as this?  

Why did she have to bear a face blessed by the royal family, only to be humiliated?  

And why, of all people, did she have to place her hopes in someone like him, a man marching toward death?  

‘…I understand the lives of those who remain here. And for her, being taken to the capital by you, even if forgotten and left alone for the rest of her life, would still be a better fate than remaining here.’

If that would be such a wretched life…  

If leaving her behind would only make her pitiable…  

Then wouldn’t it be better if she were not left behind at all?  

Before he realized it, his thick hands had moved to her collarbone. Each time his thrusts pressed deep inside her, his hands reflexively tightened around her neck. Her pale, slender throat stretched helplessly beneath his thumbs, marked with the bruises and discoloration left by his rough kisses over the past few days.  

He found himself entranced by the traces he had left on her fair skin, only to press down a little harder.  

“Gah… ack!”  

A choked cough escaped her lips.  

Returning from the brink of yet another climax, she looked up at him with flushed, tearful eyes, saying nothing but seemingly asking, “Why?”  

If he pressed just a little harder here, her fragile neck would snap.  

Then she wouldn’t be left behind.  

She would leave before him.  

And he would be the one left behind again. That much, he was used to.  

His thumbs pressed into the hollow where her collarbones met. As he applied gentle pressure to that delicate curve, he continued his slow, deliberate movements.  

“Sir… Knight…?”  

Unaware of what was happening to her, she could only look at his shadowed face with unfocused eyes.  

It would only take a little more pressure.  

Wouldn’t it have been better if his mother had passed away sooner too?  

His mother, who hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. His mother, who had secretly raised him in the shadows of the ducal estate. His mother, who had lived in constant fear of being discovered. His mother, who had ultimately lost him and drawn her last breath in lonely despair.  

Wouldn’t it have been better if she had died before giving birth to him, before being violated by his father?  

Karel’s face contorted with an unfamiliar emotion.  

The woman had never seen such an expression on him before, but to her, it looked like sorrow. She wanted to reach out and cradle his hardened face, but her fingers lacked the strength.  

She wondered if he was trying to kill her.

But judging by the hesitation in his hands, she doubted he could go through with it.  

The man looked as though he would collapse if he didn’t hold onto her neck, his expression precarious and desperate.  

She wondered if he was relying on her.

Her oxygen-deprived mind couldn’t process complex thoughts. She could only pity the man who looked as though he might burst into tears at any moment.  

A pitiful man. A man burdened with countless scars.  

She couldn’t muster any resentment. Her thoughts, dulled by lack of air, wandered aimlessly. They said the brain would melt when deprived of oxygen—perhaps she was becoming a fool.  

As she struggled to draw breath, her throat convulsing beneath his grip, Karel’s hands suddenly loosened.  

“Ahh…!”  

The sudden rush of air filling her lungs, coupled with the arousal his presence still elicited, overwhelmed her with a wave of euphoria.  

The world, which had seemed so dim, now appeared blindingly bright.  

Caught up in this unfamiliar sense of elation, she blurted out words she wouldn’t normally have said.  

“Why… are you crying…?”  

Her trembling hand reached up to cup his cheek.  

Startled by her actions, Karel paused mid-thrust, his hands braced on either side of her, his head bowed.  

His face was so close.  

Reaching past the curtain of his long bangs, she touched his temple. Her cracked fingertips brushed against a droplet of moisture.  

It was actually a bead of sweat running down his temple, but since it had flowed from his brow, it looked like a tear.  

His face hardened into a grim mask.  

“…”

As if to prove his strength, he resumed his movements without a word.  

Her fingers, which had grazed his damp cheek, slid down to the back of his neck. With what little strength remained in her hands, she wrapped her fingers around his nape.  

Unconsciously, Karel lowered himself further. Their chests pressed together.  

Though they had shared countless physical encounters, this was the first time they had embraced in such a way.  

Holding her close, Karel began to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate. He buried himself in her, pressing deeply as though to meld their bodies into one.  

“Ah… ngh… haah… hngh…”

The faint sounds of the woman’s moans lingered near his ears. As the solid weight of the man bore down entirely upon her body, she thought of it as the price she had to pay for having trespassed into the night of a man so powerful and high in status. Yet, part of her felt a strange sense of joy at sharing his burden.  

The thrill of him leaning on her completely.  

His hips pressed harshly against her lower body. The heavy and smoldering pressure caused her intimate area to heat up again.  

“Ah… ahh… ngh…”  

The sensitive flesh within her trembled as it accepted Karel’s intrusion. The rough friction of their tangled bodies heightened the sensitivity of her already tender skin, stirring spasms in her lower entrance.  

“Hah… ahh… ah! Nghhh…!”  

Riding the sharp peak of pleasure that began from her most sensitive spot, their point of union suddenly overflowed. The stinging pleasure coursed through her limbs, leaving her arms and legs limp. As her clear fluids spilled out, making her insides even slicker, Karel let out a sound he hadn’t expected—a voice that escaped him like a groan.  

“Your name.”  

“Ngh…”  

“You said you didn’t have one.”  

“Y-yes…” 

A trembling response, barely formed, escaped her lips.  

Her mouth, unable to shape proper words after being driven to climax again, only managed to release broken sounds. Shaken by his relentless pace, she could only stare blankly at Karel’s movements. Before her mind could register each motion, they flickered across her vision and disappeared.  

Thud, thud, thud. Her head hit the headboard of the bed repeatedly. Without even registering the pain, her consciousness grew increasingly hazy.  

Since morning, she had been swept up in the tasks of Selmane. The afternoon had been chaotic with preparations for the banquet. She had endured the lecherous gaze of the lord’s third son, avoided the villagers’ peculiar stares, and had been utterly exhausted.  

Now, she couldn’t even count how many times she had endured Karel’s seemingly unending venting of his frustrations through the night. Though this was something she willingly accepted.  

She was simply happy that he sought her out.  

“Ngh…”  

Finally, the man let out a short groan as he withdrew from her. Even then, the thick head of him scraped against her inner walls, drawing a faint moan from her lips.  

The fluids that had pooled between them dripped down.  

Drip, drip. With rough movements, Karel’s hand scattered his release over her stomach.  

The now-thinned fluid splattered onto her slightly parted lower lip, where it clung.  

“…I will give it to you.”  

It had been such a long day. For this reason, she couldn’t fully comprehend the man’s murmuring voice, which buzzed faintly beyond her fading consciousness.  

“If I could return…”  

The anguish and despair carried in his voice also went unnoticed.  

* * *

“So, we won’t even get to drink this bitter beer anymore, huh?”  

“I thought I finally had some proper booze yesterday, but now my taste is ruined again.”

“Well, we won’t get to drink even this soon enough. Just drink up.”

The morning of the expedition was lively and noisy. Although the kitchen had served soup to cure their hangovers, the knights of the expedition insisted it was better to endure the day before departure with a buzz, using this as an excuse to order plenty of beer.  

“Oh, come on, are you saying all the brandy you’ve had until now was just vinegar compared to what knights in the capital drink?”  

“That was only once or twice. Mostly, it’s just beer we’ve had every day.”  

“Ugh, now that I think about it, it was too strong—not even mixed with whiskey or anything. After traveling all over the country, have you found any beer you actually liked?”

“Well, the worst was probably the stuff over at the Osord Archipelago… But isn’t it a good thing if it was mixed with whiskey?”

“That whiskey cost less than a couple of silver coins per bottle.”  

Hah-hah-hah! 

The knights from the capital and the mercenary knights, who had grown quite friendly over time, burst into laughter together.