Chapter 42

Thud, thud, thud—the man, pounding deeply and forcefully as if to break the floor, finally withdrew after delaying his release for as long as possible. His swollen, engorged tip scraped against her inner walls as it retreated.

“Hah… ugh…”

With hurried movements, the man’s thickly veined shaft trembled before expelling its seed. The warm, pungent liquid splattered onto Shati’s chemise, which had been haphazardly lifted during their encounter.

“Hah… hah…”

Under his careless touch, Shati lay flat against the table, struggling to catch her breath. Her arms, tossed aside by Karel, hung limply beneath the table. The red marks on her wrists bore testament to the man’s endurance, which had held back his release until the very end.

The damp traces of the man on her back, the faint, salty scent lingering in the air—this was yet another night, one of many. Since the first time he had taken her, Karel had never once cl*maxed inside her.

‘If only… I could bear a child.’

But how could she, when he always released outside? 

‘I understand why Selma said what she did, but…’

Though Selma had spoken as if it were Shati’s choice, she had no options. Despite spending countless nights with Karel and intertwining their bodies dozens of times, she couldn’t dare to think of bearing his child. Their relationship had begun merely as an impulsive desire to share her first experience with the man who had caught her eye. Since then, she had been content simply knowing that he found her useful.

She had accepted his weight and heat, let him reach her deepest parts, and relished the moments when his disheveled expressions and intimate parts—unknown to anyone in Oedel—were hers to witness. 

But that was as far as her dreams could go. She was, after all, a lowly maid whose parents remained unknown. Karel treated her as someone unworthy of carrying his seed. Their encounters were nothing more than acts of overwhelming passion and desire, consuming each other without restraint. It could never progress beyond that.

‘He despises the idea so much that, even if I did conceive…’

Shati bit her lip softly. 

And yet, the thought of his heart changing…

Shati loved Karel. 

But Karel’s heart was dry and cold.

‘Whenever I think of you, I end up like this.’

He had only ever confessed that he thought of her and desired her, even when they were apart. 

That was enough for her. 

He consistently succumbed to her modest attempts at seduction. Every time they met, he desired her. Even though he knew she wouldn’t bear his seed, he left his mark on her. He had returned to Oedel to save her from being violated, despite the risk. He had treated her injuries and her torn mouth after Randolph harmed her. Instead of killing her to leave no witnesses, he had decided to take her to the royal palace.

Shati never asked about the shape of Karel’s feelings toward her. He had never spoken of love or anything resembling it. 

But to Shati, everything he did felt kind. 

Compared to men who claimed they could do whatever they pleased with women, Karel was gentle and, in a way, pure-hearted. Shati hadn’t experienced other men, but the stories she overheard from inn staff were varied enough to give her perspective.

Karel, though rough in his passion and impatient with his thrusts, never acted violently toward her. Though he was eager to spend every moment pushing himself into her rather than exchanging words, he never looked at other women. 

In Oedel, there was no one else but her who could make the strong, solid man lose himself in lust.

‘So, at the very least, he must care for me.’

Even if his heart held someone else, even if he stopped taking her to bed one day, as long as he continued to call her to his side, she believed he had allowed her into his domain.

For now, that was enough.

After catching her breath, Shati stood and pulled her chemise over her head. Though she still felt shy undressing in front of him, the many nights they’d shared had dulled her embarrassment. The garment, now marked by Karel’s traces, was nothing more than a scrap of cloth. Shati used it to wipe the tip of the man’s shaft, which was still seated in the chair.

Karel’s face showed waves of lingering excitement. His narrowed, icy-blue gaze followed Shati as she knelt n*ked before him. Her small head moved near his groin, irritating him. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her platinum hair, making it glow pale.

Karel was torn between the urge to press her head down and have her take him into her mouth, and the desire to escape the scent emanating from her hair. The mere acknowledgment of his impulse caused his shaft to regain its hardness.

Half a time ago. 

When he spent evenings alone in his room, organizing weapons, reading books, or scribbling reports about expeditions—whatever it was, spending time alone—Shati would quietly prepare a simple tray of snacks or refreshments and sneak into his room with hushed footsteps.  

Since their expedition ended, it was no longer a secret that she came into his room, so there was no need for her to be cautious. Yet, this insignificant woman always acted with care.  

Today was no different.  

‘You were outside for a long time earlier, so I was worried you might feel cold.’  

A cup of warmed milk mixed with rum and honey, and a bowl of beef stew that the inn had been simmering for days.  

Even though he knew that she had washed up, warmed herself, and eaten after returning to Selmane, Shati still worried about his wellbeing as usual. Although he should have gotten used to it by now, the fact that a woman he treated so carelessly took such diligent care of him filled Karel with unbearable self-loathing, often causing him to display a grim expression.  

Karel’s indifferent gaze swept over the woman who hesitated as she placed the tray on the tea table.  

She must have been cold, even though he had been the one to feel the chill.  

Despite the fact that he had buried himself inside her immediately after pulling her out of bed, she had exposed her bare chest and thighs to the freezing air while he pushed her like a beast.  

There was no helping it. His worry about her being cold because of her exposed skin paled in comparison to his stronger impulse to suck on her n*pples, hardened from the cold.  

Even though her blouse and skirt had been disheveled by his rough handling, letting the winter wind pierce through her to the bone, and her skin, already covered in goosebumps, froze under his tongue—she never once complained.  

Karel found all of it deeply unpleasant.  

Just like his mother, who had caught his father’s eye by accident, this woman might secretly feel miserable, yet she accepted him with nothing but softness and submission. It was an excessive act of servility.  

He knew that if he treated her with gentleness, he wouldn’t feel this unpleasantness. Yet Karel had no intention of showing consideration for Shati.  

It was difficult for him to accept the fact that he engaged in behaviors he wouldn’t have even imagined doing at the royal palace.  

Especially when it involved someone whose face bore a resemblance to someone he could never defy, yet whose position was entirely opposite, and who repeatedly aroused his desires.  

Given the circumstances, it was easier to deal with his tangled feelings by indulging his impulses each time.  

Touching the delicate, soft body of the woman with his hands and mouth for the first time, inserting himself into her for the first time, feeling the urgent sensation of climax within her walls for the first time—all of it was new to him.  

He acted blindly, like a fledgling bird imprinting itself on its surroundings.  

As soon as Karel confirmed that Shati’s hands were empty, he pulled her wrist and sat her on his lap.  

The slender, unremarkable woman was as light as straw.  

Then, as usual, he pressed his lips to her neck to stimulate his instincts.  

‘…This smell.’  

‘Ah, um, that’s… Selma gave me something to use.’  

Although Shati couldn’t see Karel narrowing his brows, she instinctively hunched her shoulders and mumbled.  

Her normally dry, brittle hair had been neatly combed, and when she lowered her head slightly, it reflected a subtle sheen.  

A foreign scent.  

Unlike the perfumes used by noblewomen or courtesans who occasionally threw themselves onto his bed, this fragrance was entirely different.  

It wasn’t floral or overly sweet but natural, faintly nutty, and—if he had to describe it—subtly sweet.  

It wasn’t repulsive like the scents worn by noblewomen or courtesans, but it was undeniable proof that Shati had dressed herself up to meet him.  

Who am I to deserve this?  

All he thought about was rubbing his aroused member against her, treating her like just another lowly servant.  

‘Ah, um… that’s…’  

When Shati noticed Karel’s brows furrowing even more, her face darkened.  

Karel didn’t bother to hide his displeasure and only hardened his expression further.  

He refused to label this feeling as guilt.  

Acknowledging it would mean admitting that he had wronged Shati, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that.  

After all, he intended to take Shati with him, no matter what.