Chapter 46

Until yesterday, she had been simply thrilled by the fact that the knight would escort her to the royal capital. She had been happy just knowing she wouldn’t have to part ways with him.  

But now, upon arriving in this bustling city, where everything was new to her, she felt like nothing more than an insignificant appendage in a space where everyone seemed to know Karel.  

The man who had sent her ahead first—could he possibly find her burdensome?  

Their journey had begun solely with the knight’s kindness, sharing his bed and warmth. Although Randolph’s business was involved, it was ultimately Karel’s decision that had spared Shati from a lifetime of being confined to Oedel.  

And here, there would surely be someone else with whom Karel could share a bed—perhaps even someone he already had.  

The only difference between Shati and those others was that Karel had stayed in Oedel for a long time.  

And because she had been entangled in a scandal involving the murder of a fellow noble.  

Had she been less consumed by the sorrow of leaving Oedel, less drunk, or quicker to shake off the bewilderment of arriving in an unfamiliar city, she might not have entertained such thoughts.  

But as it was, the only thing that passed her lips was the beer she didn’t even know the taste of. And in her drunken state, as she organized Selma’s gifts into her luggage, her emotions overwhelmed her.  

‘You’ve stained my life, so you’ll come with me.. You’re the only witness. To keep an eye on you, I have no choice but to bring you with me.’  

What if Sir Knight changed his mind and didn’t come looking for me?  

What if he no longer found me useful?  

In the midst of all this uncertainty, the only thing she could cling to was the hem of Karel’s cloak.  

And even that—Karel could easily give it to someone else. She was in a position where she could do nothing but wait for him to decide her fate.  

Was that why Selma had told me to bear a child?  

As such thoughts spiraled through her mind and tears fell without her realizing it, Karel arrived.  

“Sir Knight…”  

Startled by the belated awareness of his presence, her hands hurriedly wiped her cheeks.  

Karel was there. He had come to her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, without sharing the night with anyone else.  

“I… I was waiting for you…”  

Her trembling lips, quivering from suppressed sobs, formed the words as she looked up at him. Her plump lips, glistening with the residue of her tears and the beer she hadn’t fully wiped away, moved slightly.  

“I thought… sniff… you weren’t going to come…”  

Her voice, thick with sorrow, made her chin quiver like a walnut.  

The man, who had been silently observing her tear-streaked face, furrowed his brow. 

Why wouldn’t I come? 

He had no time to figure out what thoughts had been running through her head.  

The moment he saw Shati’s tear-streaked face, flushed red under the moonlight, and her violet eyes shimmering with tears, Karel could think of nothing else but kissing her and holding her in his arms.  

Striding toward her, he bent down and captured her tear-salted lips.  

“Mm… ah…”  

He thought it was an impulse born out of the irritation that had been simmering all day. He never imagined it was to comfort the woman who had upended her life to trust him.  

Truly, everything about today had annoyed Karel.  

It had started that morning when he rode with Shati on horseback. He had only worried about the unfamiliarity of carrying someone else on his horse for an extended period, but the real issue lay elsewhere.  

It was Shati’s body heat that had troubled him all along.  

When she curled up against his chest, her rounded back fitting snugly against him, supposedly to ward off the cold, a slow heat began to rise in his groin. Though the intensity of the ride kept him from fully arousing, the tension never completely dissipated. Even when they stopped briefly to rest, the sight of her lips chewing on dry bread made him ache with the urge to bury himself in her—whether in her mouth or elsewhere.  

Was he losing his mind at the thought of bringing Shati to the Duke’s estate?  

When they arrived in Rodellver, a new wave of frustration washed over him.  

As they entered the inn, Karel glanced at Shati, who clung to the hem of his cloak, and felt another pang of discomfort. Her teary eyes and flushed cheeks reminded him of when she had been beneath him, relying on him completely. It was a look only he knew—a red, tearful face that leaned entirely on him.  

For a brief moment, his chest tightened, but Karel didn’t think it was due to any emotional reaction. Instead, the memory of her in bed came to mind, and his body heated up once more. As always, he attributed it to the witch’s influence, believing she had bewitched him. His only irritation was that her alluring face was now visible for all to see.  

When Shati kept sipping her beer and his subordinates grew overly friendly, his annoyance deepened. He didn’t realize it himself, but his foul mood stemmed from these very incidents.  

And then, when Shati lowered her hood, exposing her face to everyone in the hall, their gazes locked onto her.  

For a warrior trained to detect even the faintest hints of danger, that moment felt like an eternity. A wildfire ignited in his chest, searing up his spine to the top of his head in an instant.  

Who could see such a beautiful face and not be struck with awe?  

Yet the looks directed at her weren’t purely admiring. There was the natural attraction to a beauty, the desire to conquer a woman who was clearly not a noble from her attire, and the lewd imaginings that tried to piece together her relationship with Karel.  

Karel was consumed by a violent urge to snuff out the light in the eyes of anyone who dared to look at Shati.  

He didn’t know why.  

Was it because they underestimated her, thinking her face was insignificant?  

If so, that was an insult to anyone who shared Shati’s face.  

Yes, that was it. That was why he was angry at the ignorant villagers.  

But he was also angry at Shati. Why had she let them dictate her actions, drinking the beer they offered and lowering her hood as they suggested? Didn’t she realize that her startled, doe-like gaze only invited shadowy desires?  

With a face like that—a face that symbolized arrogance, a beauty that was unparalleled—why let it be sullied?  

Since he couldn’t gouge out the eyes of everyone who had looked at her, he chose the simpler option of removing Shati from their view.  

Even after she left his side, Karel couldn’t erase the displeasure from his face. The time spent in the same hall as those who had ogled Shati felt like an eternity, and the urge to bury himself inside her, to claim her entirely, made the dreary meal feel endless.  

When he finally made it to his room after discussing their next steps, the sight before him offered both astonishment and relief.  

Why are you crying now? You accepted the villagers’ lackluster farewell just fine.  

No, on second thought, he liked that she was crying in his presence.  

Only because of him.  

His fleet pierced deep into her throat. His seed, filling her mouth, made her nauseous. Without preparation, he forced his manhood into her tightly clenched entrance. The merciless climax that followed his caresses with both hands and lips overwhelmed her. Though she was already exhausted from repeated climaxes, he pushed her into deeper abysses of pleasure. To avoid becoming a brute who forcibly embraced her, he lashed out, branding her as a depraved witch.

She wept only because of him.

The tears that had flowed profusely in Karel’s absence soon turned into physiological tears from the man’s intrusion. 

“Oh, uhn, ngh, Sir Knight…”

Clatter, clatter—the luxurious furniture of the inn was far too fragile to withstand Karel’s rough movements. Each time he thrust into Shati’s depths, the bed let out a faint groan, the legs of the bed scraping noisily against the wooden floor.

“Oh, ngh, too deep, uhn…!”

Perhaps it was the ale she had sipped; Shati muttered incoherent words, sounding like a child whining. It was a stark contrast to her usual meek and quiet acceptance of his advances.

With Shati’s knees pressed down, the man continued his thrusts. Her legs, spread wide like a frog lying flat, exposed her flushed membranes in vivid detail. As he stared blankly at the tender flesh that flickered with each motion, Karel forcefully drove his manhood deeper, deeper into her innermost depths.

“Ahn! Ngh! Uhn!”

Her face contorted as if burdened by his oppressive weight. Every time her knees were pressed down, her expression twisted, synchronizing with his movements—a sight that was always delightful to behold. Her flushed face, reddened by intoxication, matched the hue of her exposed membranes.

“You were trembling your hips so well earlier.”

“W-when did I, ngh, ever…”

“Were you hoping I’d take you from behind?”

“No, ngh, ugh, I didn’t, ah!”

Was it out of grievance or shame? Tears welled up again beneath Shati’s violet eyes, trickling down her cheeks. Holding her thighs firmly apart with both hands, Karel let out a short laugh before plunging his manhood recklessly, deeper and deeper. The tender flesh revealed between her widely spread folds was redder than Shati’s cheeks, chapped by the cold air.