“It’s a bit different from the King.”

“Excuse me?”

“When the King grabs my neck, it’s only to choke me.”

“…”

Layla remained silent. Malyn spoke as if it were nothing, as if she was just babbling.

“The rumour that maids die every day doesn’t seem to be entirely untrue. He has a very bad habit.”

“What kind of…?”

Malyn lifted her chin once more, and Layla’s pale face hovered close, gazing down at her. Her complexion was always fair, but perhaps due to the warmth of the bath, the tips of her cheeks held a faint flush. Blue eyes peeked through her loosely twisted, disheveled golden hair, which looked as though it might spill down at any moment—eyes like a frozen winter lake. Malyn smiled mischievously.

“If I told you all about that nasty habit, you’d be very pleased, Princess.”

“…I would?”

“Of course.”

Malyn lifted her hand from the water, grasping Layla’s hand as it massaged the back of her neck, and guided her thumb just below her right collarbone. Layla’s hands were big, and naturally, her hand ended up cupping Malyn’s right br*ast. This time, Layla’s entire face flushed red. But Malyn pretended not to notice her blushing, gently pressing Layla’s thumb down.

“Press slowly below the collarbone. It feels tight there…”

Layla’s ring finger and little finger ended up pressing down on Malyn’s ar*ola. Layla seemed unsure what to do with the unfamiliar sensation, while Malyn pretended not to notice and pressed lightly on the area below her other collarbone.

“Press from under the armpit to here. I feel very tired.”

“….”

Eventually, Layla began to move her hand slowly. The cooling sensation spread across Malyn’s back, and it was surprisingly pleasant. Malyn closed her eyes and leaned back gradually, ending up almost nestled in Layla’s arms from behind. Layla pressed her thumb slowly and deeply into Malyn’s br*ast for a while, her hands still slick with oil. Then she paused, as if waiting for Malyn to say something, but Malyn remained deliberately silent.

Layla let out a quiet sigh through her nose, then finally took a bit more salt oil and applied it to Malyn’s br*ast, moving her hand in gentle circles. Relaxing into the sensation, Malyn, with her eyes closed, spoke in a sing-song voice.

“Look under my chest. You’ll be very pleased.”

Even with her eyes closed, Malyn could sense Layla’s confusion. Soon Layla was moving her fingers very carefully over Malyn’s br*asts. And then her hand froze. She was probably looking at the marks under Malyn’s br*asts – places where blood had collected under the skin.

“The King has some rather unpleasant habits in bed.”

She turned halfway to face Layla. She opened her eyes and looked up, seeing a mixture of fear and sorrow in Layla’s gaze.

The King of Veldam had terrible habits when it came to the bedroom. Strictly speaking, Malyn had never shared a bed with him, so it would be more accurate to say that his treatment of women was deplorable. He treated Malyn like an object. He had said he would treat her with the dignity of a princess, but if his words were true, then every princess in the world should have bite marks, bruises and welts all over her body.

There were many violent men. Just because he was a King didn’t mean he was graceful or refined. He seemed to get his thrills from beating Malyn and other forms of abuse. Even after a month and a half since entering Veldam Castle, Malyn had never experienced anything that would make her capable of bearing a child. The king called for her at least once a week, and on those nights Malyn had to endure oral service until her jaw was numb. She was often bitten, pinched and occasionally beaten with an open palm or a small, light whip.

By the third night, Malyn was certain – the king liked to beat women. Every time Malyn was summoned to the king’s chambers, Layla, the princess’s maid, would sit by the door and wait, crouched in silence. Malyn didn’t scream or cry, so Layla probably didn’t know what was happening.

When helping Malyn with her baths, Layla would often close her eyes or turn her head away to avoid looking at Malyn’s body. Layla probably thought that Malyn didn’t like to show her body to others, so she assumed that she shouldn’t look at Malyn’s body either. But every time Malyn saw Layla acting that way, a mischievous impulse rose in her.

“They say that in some countries, a prince has someone who takes the beating for him.”

“……”

“Aren’t you glad that I, Malyn, will take the beating instead of the princess?”

Layla’s eyes were like a frozen lake. In a way, Malyn was chipping away at that ice. She smiled brightly, running her wet fingertips along the hem of Layla’s velvet gown.

“Malyn is lucky too, isn’t she? There’s no prince to look after the one who takes the beating, but I, Malyn, am lucky to be under the care of a princess”.

Malyn said this as she placed her arm on Layla’s thigh and leaned forward, as if seeking comfort. Even if Layla flinched, Malyn buried her face in her own arm. Eventually, Layla began to gently rub her back. Surprisingly, her touch was no longer heavy but gentle and warm—it was hard to believe it was the same cold, expressionless princess. That unexpected tenderness irritated Malyn. She hadn’t done all this just to be pitied.

Besides, what she had said wasn’t entirely wrong. Malyn closed her eyes and mentally listed her tasks for the day as soon as she finished her bath. Living in Veldam Castle, she truly was being pampered.

‘Where was I…?’

Malyn soon began to think of her favourite things. The malicious thoughts that had filled her mind slowly melted away, dissolved in the bath water.

* * *

The King of Veldam was wealthy, and while there are many ways for kings and nobles to flaunt their wealth, his approach was quite refined. One part of the vast castle housed an enormous library, which the king had filled with books—shelves holding ten thousand volumes. Owning even a hundred books would mark someone as an avid bibliophile, so what did it mean to possess ten thousand?

It would be impossible to describe just how thrilled Malyn had been when she discovered the library while exploring the castle. The idea of touching such rare books was exhilarating.

Malyn discreetly asked Veldam’s head steward if she could visit the library, and although he gave her a long list of rules and precautions, he didn’t deny her entry.

The library in Veldam Castle was one of the warmest rooms in the entire castle—a necessity, as the leather bindings of the books would shrink in the cold. Twelve large windows made of full glass faced south, flooding the room with sunlight.

As soon as Malyn entered, she removed her cloak and tossed it by the door in her haste. She was eager to discover what happened next in the story of the Thorn Princess, the book she’d been reading.

Holding the blue-dyed leather-bound book in her hands, she quickly flipped through its pages.

The princess, cursed and born without eyes, had been abandoned under a thorn tree and so was called the Thorn Princess. The thorn trees stretched out their branches to protect the poor princess, forming a castle of thorns around her. When the king who had once abandoned her saw this, he searched for her again and appointed a knight – one who had slain a dragon – to guard her.

‘The knight…’

Malyn sat down and bit her fingernails. There were words she didn’t quite understand, and the gaps in meaning frustrated her.