Chapter 9. The Witch in the Forest

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At the riding practice ground next to the training field, Hector was solemnly explaining to Marienne, who had expectant eyes.

“Before we move on to actual practice, let me ask you. Miss Rose, have you ever ridden a horse before?”

Hector tried his best to imitate the commander’s deep, thick voice.

“No. When I was young, I briefly rode a goat we raised. Would that be of any help?”

“A goat?”

Hector scratched his chin, his voice returning to its natural lighter tone.

Marienne, wearing a brown riding dress, nodded while wearing an adorable hat.

The lord’s woman, and moreover, his first love both officially and unofficially!

A woman of extraordinary beauty with mysterious powers, but surprisingly of common birth. How could one not be curious?

For Hector, who was always first to hear any rumors, volunteering to be her riding instructor was only natural.

“I held onto the goat’s horns and climbed up. Even when it stamped its hind legs, I managed to stay on until I counted to ten. Though I’ve never ridden a horse, couldn’t I think of it as just a slightly larger goat? If you’re worried that I might get kicked by the horse’s hind legs or fall and break my bones, I’d like to assure you not to worry. Animals tend to take quite well to me.”

Marienne smiled confidently.

The vigorous knight’s gaze wandered to her neckline revealed beneath her upswept hair.

“Then, may I ride the horse? I’ve heard enough explanation.”

“Ah…… yes. Let’s do that.”

The stable boy brought over a glossy brown horse.

Marienne approached without hesitation and gently stroked the horse.

“This is the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen in my life. Comparing it to an ugly goat, I must have been out of my mind for a moment.”

Hector chuckled at her candor and took the reins from the stable boy.

“This is the most docile horse in Louer.”

The horse flared its nostrils and lowered its head to Marienne’s nape. Her fine hair fluttered in its strong breath.

Hector had to click his tongue at the instinct common to both men and beasts.

“Shall we try riding then?”

“Please take care of me.”

Stepping into the stirrup, Marienne sat sideways on the saddle with both legs askew as she had been taught.

Though it was an unstable position, her excellent physical coordination allowed her to quickly find her balance.

After circling the riding grounds about six times, Marienne naturally fell into rhythm with the horse’s breathing.

As Hector slowly backed away to the fence, she gathered her courage and began to guide the horse.

Knights who had been training in horsemanship at the nearby training ground gathered in small groups at the fence, marveling at her quick adaptation.

Theo rested his thick arm on Hector’s shoulder.

“How is it teaching her? Still think she’s a woman who will ruin our lord?”

“How can I know everything about her just from watching for a moment?”

“You said you had a feeling.”

Theo peered at Hector, who wasn’t responding.

His rarely serious eyes were fixed on Marienne Rose.

Theo, the twenty-two-year-old young man, ruffled Hector’s hair.

“You’re looking at something you shouldn’t.”

“She was a commoner. Even from a shoe shop I sometimes visited. Maybe I could have had a chance.”

“Where did you throw away your boundless loyalty?”

“That’s why I’m just watching. Huh? Oh no!”

As Marienne lost her balance and stumbled, Hector tried to run forward.

But more swiftly than him, the commander’s black horse raised its front legs and jumped over the fence.

Has he been watching all along?

The commander snatched the woman’s waist from the startled horse.

With her seated in front of him, the commander slowly circled the riding ground. Then he jumped over the fence and galloped toward the grassland.

The lady’s delicate scream quickly faded into the distance.

Theo patted the deflated Hector’s shoulder.

“Do you understand now? Why you missed your chance.”

* * *

The Duke’s horse, without a saddle, was larger and taller than the one she had just ridden, making Marienne nervous.

Moreover, having hastily transferred to his horse, she found herself in an embarrassingly intimate position.

With no mane to hold onto and no saddle to lean against, Marienne could only grasp at Nigel’s clothes near his waist.

Every time the fabric of her skirt slipped against her bottom, she felt dizzy with fear of falling.

But Nigel, who guided the horse into the forest, neither stopped nor held her.

As her loose grip on his clothes gradually tightened, she finally cried out and embraced Nigel’s waist when she nearly lost balance. The horse’s pace noticeably slowed.

As the tension eased, she could smell the man’s fresh scent along with the forest’s aroma.

Marienne hesitantly raised her eyes.

Sunlight flickering through the leaves made Nigel’s hair, prominent nose bridge, and downcast eyes sparkle.

When the noisy birdsong faded and she became intoxicated by the gray eyes filled with herself, the horse stopped.

Nigel’s head lowered, and their lips met.

The sweet breath’s fragrance rushed into her pounding chest.

But the kiss departed without even making a shy sound.

There was no passionate moan, no fierce invasion melting the inside of her mouth.

Yet her heart leaped as if it would burst.

He lowered his lips again.

“Ah……”

A moan escaped as Marienne’s lips parted in anticipation.

But Nigel merely brushed against her flushed cheeks and nose, leaving her yearning lips untouched.

Even with her looking up at him with tender eyes, his subdued gaze remained silent.

Marienne raised one hand to cradle his nape. Then, pulling him down, she stole Nigel’s lips.

She stroked the gap between his closed lips with her heated tongue. She bit his plump lower lip teasingly with her mischievous teeth, then released it while begging.

As she sucked on his upper lip with a groan, suddenly their lips deeply overlapped.

Holding the reins with one hand, he used the other to grasp the back of Marienne’s head and pull her close.

Their breaths mingled hotly, and sweet fluid moistened them both.

How could it be so sweet? Even after stealing and drinking deeply, the thirst remained.

Crushed moans overflowed between their lips. Desperate to delve deeper, Marienne twisted her head.

She was desperate. Impatience boiled.

Her stomach heaved with maddening desire to possess him.

He who had been devouring Marienne’s lips bit her chin and deeply sucked her tilting neck.

“Ah!”

Her trembling eyelids lifted.

Their gazes lingered on each other dreamily, refusing to part.

Nigel dismounted, embraced Marienne, and entered the intimate forest shade where light couldn’t reach.

The forest interior, where ancient trees blocked the sky, had thin light draped like veils here and there.

Marienne buried her heated face in Nigel’s shoulder and brought her lips to his neck.

Wanting to leave marks like he had done to her, she applied pressure.

When she failed due to inexperience, she tried biting instead.

Then thud, rough tree bark touched the back of her head.

Nigel, who had pressed Marienne against the tree, looked down at her precariously as if about to collapse.

“I want to possess you.”

Marienne trembled at his rough, lowered voice.

She couldn’t understand why he suddenly sought permission.

Marienne’s fingernails scratched the tree bark behind her back.

“You don’t need to do that. This is strictly a contractual relationship and this is…… just practice.”

Nigel, who raised and lowered his lips dryly, removed Marienne’s outer garment. The ribbon binding her chest came undone, the knotted buttons were unfastened, and her fair br*asts were exposed.

His fingers, following the soft curves down, caressed the er*ect tips.

Bending down to breathe in the scent of her rapidly rising and falling cleavage, he pressed his lips in various places as he moved downward.

The underskirt was lifted, and hot breath was blown on her thighs where the stocking ribbons were tied.

“May I kiss you?”

Marienne nodded with a bright red face. The hair that Bell had stylishly arranged was now sensually disheveled.

The man who had placed his knee on the ground stroked the back of her thigh and looked up at her with heated eyes.

It was too far to overlap their lips.

“What are you doing?”

Nigel gently spread her thighs and burrowed between them. His lips pressed warmly against her thin undergarments.

His fingers dug between the parting lace. The now-wet undergarments slid down to her knees.

Spreading Marienne’s trembling thighs, he twisted his head to press even closer.

“Aah……”

What followed were wet kisses. Marienne threw her head back and tightly shut her eyes.

“Hah, ungh…… uh!”

As she moaned from his persistent and lewd kisses, her body trembled and tears welled up.

The leaves shook in the wind along with Marienne’s moans.

Unable to bear the hungry desire, Marienne collapsed onto Nigel’s back.

“Stop…… stop, Nigel.”

Only then did the man lift his face.

Marienne, whimpering in embarrassment, hurriedly wiped his lips with her fingers.

Nigel grabbed her wrist and furrowed his brows.

“Call me again.”

“……Nigel.”

His jaw tightened and his brow darkened.

“Witch.”

Despite his words of condemnation, Marienne found it impossible to hate him.

On the contrary, there was a twisted part of her that rejoiced in being imprinted on him in any way, even if he was an unreachable existence.

She had built a dam with a mere 300 deniso silver coins to protect her heart from getting hurt.

But she didn’t know how long she could contain the slowly rising waters of her heart.

Marienne looked into the man’s gray eyes standing before her and whispered.

“Nigel.”

His eyelashes lowered as his lips approached. She felt as if her breath would stop.

And when he fully entered her, dripping with desire, everything before her eyes turned completely white.

* * *

“It’s been a while, Ariel.”

A man with gloomy eyes looked down at the tombstone made of red magic stone.

‘Ariel Snowden, the woman who sang with the voice of God.’

The man’s eyes, tracing the epitaph, were dry without any trace of mourning.

The man wearing a beast fur cloak and wearing a deer antler crown was Elmon Snowden, King of Heath.

White breath frosted on his bushy beard. Suppressing a convulsive cough, he clutched his chest.