The liquid soaking his wife’s br*ast was intended solely for the newborn child. Under normal circumstances, of course, a woman of her noble status would never breastfeed her child, so the milk would naturally have dried up without ever being used.

“What empress would personally nurse her child? How vulgar.”

However, it seemed his wife had been secretly nursing the child without his knowledge. Having discovered this, Cedric had no intention of allowing it to continue.

“So that’s why the princess breastfed you. Judging by how much you’re leaking, it must have been difficult to keep it in all this time.”

Nevertheless, he had a new idea about the milk, which he would otherwise have forbidden, and allowed it to disappear naturally. He knew his thoughts were far from normal, but the moment he saw the milk welling from his wife’s br*ast, he resolved to claim it.

He raised his upper body again, grabbed his wife’s waist and pulled her up. Anita was forced upright, straddling Cedric with her legs immodestly spread. The angle of penetration changed, with the milk now entering from below.

As she felt him exploring inside her and stimulating new areas, Anita panted and threw her head back.

“Ah, aah… Ngh!”

While Anita was clearly overwhelmed, Cedric remained composed. He met her gaze and pressed several kisses onto her rounded forehead.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the room. Despite her frantic rocking, Anita could see the man clenching her br*ast tightly.

“Hngh… Don’t do that… ah! Oh, don’t, oh…”

The milk streaming down the man’s fingers was humiliating. Yet, as if it were his right, the man kneaded her br*ast with his palm, using his thumb to press and seal the n*pple from which the white liquid was flowing. He whispered in a dark, humid voice:

“Don’t worry that nothing is left for the princess. Didn’t I, the Emperor, hire several wet nurses for her?”

How could he enjoy this act? How could he speak like this as a father?”

Anita was horrified by Cedric’s words and actions. However, she realized with shock that she convulsed and leapt up every time he pinched her n*pple.

“Uh, aah… Stop! Ungh!”

But even that shock was fleeting. Consumed by the pleasure piercing her entire body, she was completely taken over, forgetting everything else. With her mind utterly blank and tears streaming down her face, she simply groaned until her throat was raw, as flashes sparkled every time she blinked.

Satisfied, Cedric moistened his lips as he watched his wife in that state. He let out an audible laugh and thrust into her passionately. Then he muttered to his speechless, panting wife.

“The princess will be able to fill her stomach just fine without you.”

··· ✦ ···

Anita opened her eyes and stared blankly into the darkness. When had the terrible intercourse finally ended, which had felt like it would last forever? She vaguely remembered seeing the sun set and the sky turn violet. At another point, she had seen the bedroom, already obscured by darkness, become faintly visible.

“Anita.”

The voice that called her name was accompanied by a sharp-edged smile. At some point, the man had been completely n*ked, just like her. Anita flinched at the phantom sound brushing past her ears. The pain in her entire body, which had been submerged in darkness, hit her as she flinched, waking her up.

“Ah…”

Her body had suffered from puerperal fever for over half a month after childbirth. Still not fully recovered, her body screamed in pain at the sudden onset. It wasn’t just her legs that hurt; her back and neck hurt too. She felt as if her entire body had been crushed and experienced a lingering, heavy pain from head to toe. At the same time, sharp poking sensations emanated from all the places he had bitten her.

‘No.’

Lying on her side, Anita gradually became aware of the arm around her waist as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A single sheet covered her body, and she pulled it closer, curling her shoulders inwards.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Cedric Fion, Emperor of Laxion and the father of her daughter, Félicité, and her husband in name.

Husband. There had been a time when she could whisper those words with warmth, her cheeks burning with shy affection.

But now, every title meant nothing. To her, Cedric was no longer a husband, but a cruel master holding the chain around her neck. A tyrant.

What power did she have but to obey?

As a wife, a mother, and even an empress, she could exert no influence over him whatsoever.

Had she ever truly been a person to him?

Her body had been forced open against her will once more, shattering the last of her already fragile spirit. She had thought that he had lost interest after her pregnancy and that he would at least spare her for a while. She could never have imagined that he could be so merciless towards the woman who had just borne his child.

‘So that’s all I am. Just something to be used whenever he pleases… nothing more.’

Throughout the ordeal, Cedric had delivered several unimaginably terrible beatings. They weren’t particularly painful, but each time he struck her b*ttocks, Anita wished she could simply pass out. And what of the foul words that cut into her ears alongside the sharp sounds? Even after he left, Cedric’s voice remained stuck in her head.

One wouldn’t even whip a horse recklessly. Yet she herself… Each time his hand fell, she merely panted, quickly crying out the sounds he desired.

She felt like a vessel for l*st, disguised as a wife. She felt utterly vile. It was always the same feeling whenever he pressed down on her. She felt more like a tool than a person. Thus, even the pain she voiced was nothing more than pleasure to him.

‘What was I even expecting? He had always been this kind of man. At least to me, he was…’

Anita traced back her memory and recalled their first night together. He had mocked the new bride and told her to choose a man from his retinue. He created an oppressive atmosphere by threatening to order his knights to r*pe her if she displeased him.

‘Félicité…’

It had been foolish of her to cling to hope just because her daughter had been born. He constantly called her daughter useless and referred to her by her royal title rather than by her name. If he treated his own daughter this way, there was no way he would spare her a thought despite hating her from the beginning.

Anita’s expectations for Cedric shattered into a million pieces. The fragments scattered with a sharp, tearing sound, glittering dangerously as they went.

“I love you, Anita.”

Anita realized that it had once been a beautiful beginning, but even that was just another fragment of what had shattered long ago. The fragile memory, crumbling and meaningless, rolled through her mind, barely retaining its shape.

‘Why…?’

Regret flooded her. Why had she ever cared for him? Why had she waited and hoped for so long? What foolish spell had made her see only his beauty? She despised the naive, innocent heart that had once loved him.

The deeper her love and hope had been, the sharper the pain became. At last, the tears she had been holding back spilled over. She wept quietly, her shoulders trembling, afraid to make a sound in case the man lying behind her woke up. They shared only a thin sheet, their bodies close together, but her heart was an ocean away.

But Anita didn’t know, Cedric was already awake.

His cold, sharp gaze fixed on her small, pale back, glowing faintly in the night.

‘What could she possibly be crying about now?’

A fallen wife, clinging to his mercy and barely maintaining her place. What sorrow could she possibly have?

‘She had borne a princess, not an heir. Doesn’t she realize that producing an heir is her only path to safety?’

In his mind, she should have been grateful. If he chose another woman, it would be Anita who would face ruin, not anyone else.

‘It’s remarkable to have the power to stir anger simply by existing.’

Even so, her fragile back held his gaze. She looked as though she might vanish if he blinked, as though a breath of wind could scatter her completely. Cedric’s lips pressed into a thin line as he felt the faint tremor travel through her body beneath his hand. Without knowing why, he bit down hard, stifling whatever emotion rose within him.

Cedric had never felt any regret or guilt about what he had done to his wife. “It’s my right,” he told himself. Yet, strangely, he found himself hesitating, wondering whether to reach out and comfort her.

Maybe he could whisper, “Don’t cry.” If she turned towards him and sought comfort in his arms, then perhaps, just perhaps he might show her some mercy.

He might even pay more attention to the princess.

He might help the niece she’d left behind in Callithea.

He might give her jewels that would make others jealous. Or, despite being embarrassed to admit it, he might even compliment her. Beautiful.

“Hhhngh…”

But this thought was instantly shattered by the sound of her muffled sob. It was small and fragile, but unmistakable. That damp, trembling voice pierced the darkness and struck him like a cold blade.

For a moment, the sound shook something deep within his chest.

‘What was this feeling?’

His gaze wavered, unsettled, before he pushed the confusion aside.

‘Insolent, she doesn’t even understand her own position.’

He decided that whatever stirred inside him must be irritation, nothing more. It was something to be silenced, not examined.

Like pruning a useless branch, he would simply cut it off.

Cedric’s hand tightened around her waist, pulling her abruptly towards him. His voice was low and cold.

“Be quiet, Anita.”

She gasped sharply, frozen, her breath caught in her throat. Her trembling body was drawn tightly against his chest, a warmth and weight that felt perfectly satisfying to him.

Wrapping an arm around her, Cedric murmured almost lazily.

“Your crying is too loud. I can’t sleep.”

He placed his hand on his wife’s soft, rounded br*ast and squeezed gently. Perhaps because he had suckled her thoroughly until his stomach was full, and the milk had dried up in the meantime, the milk wasn’t flowing as heavily as before. Cedric continued to fondle her, looking quite disappointed.

“Aah…’

He roughly twisted the n*pple he had been lightly tapping, causing his wife to moan. Simultaneously, a small but perceptible trickle of milk flowed out. He had heard that a woman’s milk supply increased the more she was suckled. Handling his wife roughly helped Cedric push away the niggling sensation in his chest. Amidst the stimulation, he forgot his complicated thoughts and found himself thinking filthy things.

Was it because of the pain? Because of the shame? Or perhaps both? Anita lifted her hand, trying to stop Cedric’s insolent behavior.

Instead, he snatched his wife’s hand away. He intertwined her fingers firmly and brought her hand to his damp br*ast. He secretly enjoyed manipulating his wife into fondling her own br*ast. Horrified, Anita struggled to free her hand, but ultimately gave up and lowered her head.

Cedric found this attitude extremely satisfying. Cedric buried his nose in Anita’s nape and inhaled deeply. Blood had already pooled in his lower regions. His wife must have noticed, as her body twitched. She didn’t seem to realize that this would only provoke him further.

Cedric considered turning her over again, but decided against it. Her trembling shoulders caught his eye inexplicably. Instead, he hugged his wife tightly and closed his eyes. Then, in a cold voice, he commanded.

“It’s offensive to look at, so don’t cry in front of me without permission from now on. As you know, you are not in a position to defy me.”