“Ughhh…”
Kneeling beside the flower bed in the Court Garden, the contents of her stomach—stomach acid, cake, and bacon—came rushing up in an instant. If anyone saw the young girl clutching the bucket and retching, they’d probably call her disgraceful, but in this lively banquet, no one paid the slightest attention to her here in the palace’s backyard.
She had chosen this secluded spot precisely so she could throw up to her heart’s content, free from any ladylike pretense!
“Wow, how pitiful. You ate so little and still threw up? Even the maids serving drinks have more guts than you.”
Erika: ?!
Like a cat startled by a cucumber, the girl nearly leapt up—she hadn’t expected anyone to suddenly speak behind her. Flustered, Erika fought back the effects of the alcohol and turned around in a panic.
Standing there, dressed in a crimson evening gown, was none other than Emil, who should have been dominating the banquet hall. Her golden hair was tied back as she strode toward Erika, and, in an oddly gentlemanly manner, offered her a handkerchief. “Here, take this.”
“Ahem, it’s fine. I have my own handkerchief.”
“……”
The instant Erika declined her kindness, Emil’s expression collapsed, as if all her poise had just been a hasty façade. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Erika’s right eye—the scar above her right eye seemed to awaken memories of the past, and the pain surged once more.
“Take it. You know I don’t like to repeat myself a third time, and this is already the second,” Emil urged, her tone leaving Erika no choice but to accept the handkerchief, pressing it to her mouth as she held her dizzy head.
No one else was around, and suddenly being treated kindly like this was deeply unsettling.
But she had no choice. The suspicion—‘What is she after?’—naturally surfaced, but the weak, pitiful, and helpless Erika had no way to resist. If this woman crossed the line…
After wiping her lips, Erika folded the handkerchief neatly and tucked it away. She lifted her skirts in a slight curtsy to the muscular woman, her voice formal and respectful. “Thank you for your generosity, Lady Emil. I’ll wash this and return it to you.”
Still, her gesture was indeed kind. If possible, I don’t want to owe Emil anything, nor do I want her to owe me, lest we become entangled. Or maybe, I just want nothing to do with her at all?
Every time Erika saw this woman, she was reminded of those older Sisters in her childhood who used to bully and tease her.
Ah, back then, she was in third grade, while her Sister was in fifth.
“You’re so cold, Miss Erika. While I was away, you seemed to be enjoying yourself more and more—getting bolder, aren’t you? So, how have you been lately?” As she spoke, Emil’s hand slipped lightly over Erika’s nape, her voice turning gentle and intimate—a stark contrast to the commanding general on the battlefield earlier.
Yet the lingering scent of blood on her hand couldn’t be erased, and being teased like this was far from pleasant.
Erika subtly turned away, her black-purple hair fluttering as she quietly dodged Emil’s fingers trying to pinch her earlobe, widening the distance between them.
“Everything as usual. The wise and sagacious Queen Evelyn rules the realm with brilliance. Nothing amiss—people live in peace and contentment.”
“Hey, hey! That’s not what I meant. Has it really been so long that we’ve grown distant? Lean your head over—let me flick you.”
Emil reached out, trying to close the gap between them. Like Evelyn, she had just come of age, but she always treated Erika, who was a month her senior, as her errand girl.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave now.”
Trying to escape the awkward encounter, Erika attempted to slip past her politely and return to the banquet.
“Oh, Erika~ I finally made up my mind to be nice to you, and this is how you repay my sincerity?” Seemingly displeased with Erika’s attitude, Emil’s gentle butler-like expression instantly darkened.
“Fine, fine, do as you wish—still hung up on those old matters, aren’t you.”
Even her voice lost its friendly warmth, reverting to that sharp, aggressive tone. For Erika, this was actually easier to deal with.
“Old matters… What old matters?”
“That scar by your eye. Didn’t I already apologize? Evelyn always steals the most beautiful, precious things from me. If I don’t leave scars and marks, she’ll take everything, not leaving a single thing for me.”
“……”
“Even so, in the end, it was all taken from me anyway. It’s all because of that Evelyn—I’m always cast aside.”
“Your rude words about Her Majesty the Queen…”
“Damn it! That Queen, that Queen!”
Her sudden outburst startled Erika so much she clutched her chest, eyes wide. Emil rummaged in her arms and said, “Since when did you start caring so much about Evelyn? Is there really something between you two? Hah, I never noticed before—turns out she likes girls, and even after coming of age hasn’t touched a man?”
“What nonsense is that?”
“I have ears, you know? You and Evelyn… that kind of relationship… rumors are everywhere in the palace. Tell me, is it true?”
Tch, is that all? Erika’s nerves eased, and she answered calmly, “Surely you know better than anyone those are just baseless rumors? I don’t see the need to explain.”
“Yeah, right? That’s why Evelyn still sits so prim and proper on the throne… right, right, so nothing happened after all.”
“The noble brats sure know how to spread convincing rumors.” Emil flicked her half-smoked cigar to the ground and crushed it out with her heel.
“Forget that. Erika… being alone together like this reminds me of those days. Hm… how about I give you a reward? Don’t think of refusing. It’s not a request, but an order.”
Damn muscle woman, is she threatening me now?
Erika, the “seductress who brings down kingdoms,” entangled with Emil? If word got out, she’d break out in a cold sweat.
“Come, stand in front of me and close your eyes. You’ve assisted Evelyn well—this is your reward.”
A reward? More like punishment.
She was just about to turn and hurry back to the banquet hall, but Emil clearly saw through her intent. With a long stride, she seized Erika’s arm before she could escape, yanking her into her embrace.
A good half a head taller, Emil leaned close to Erika’s ear and commanded in a forceful tone, “Just enjoy it.”
Cursing inwardly, Erika had no choice but to slowly close her eyes. If she refused Emil now, there was no telling what would happen—after all, Emil was unmatched in torment and murder.
She squeezed her eyes shut, lashes trembling nervously. As soon as she closed them, the dizziness from the alcohol struck anew, and she swore never to drink again… Ugh!
Her body tensed rigidly in Emil’s embrace—a faint scent of Apple Brandy lingered on the tall warrior’s body. Then, after a slick, warm sensation on the back of her neck, came a soft, nimble touch… was that a tongue?!
Why is it always the nape? Do you people have some kind of fetish? Erika felt a rush of heat to her head and dared not move.
Emil grinned, licking the pale nape of the girl in her arms until goosebumps rose on Erika’s skin. Sensing the trembling of the delicate body in her arms, Emil gently kissed the neck, both hands holding tight to Erika’s slender waist—warm, silky, and incredibly supple.
Hey!!!
“Still so shy, Erika? Hmph, so you and Evelyn haven’t done anything like this yet?”
“Then you’re mine—at least tonight, at this moment! Evelyn can’t take you away…”
At this point, even a fool could sense something was wrong. Emil seemed to harbor a deep inferiority complex toward the current Queen, Evelyn—constantly comparing herself, always striving to surpass her.
Perhaps the way she bullied Erika stemmed from this same inferiority, living in Evelyn’s shadow every day, venting her frustrations on Erika, Evelyn’s close attendant. This was the Emil Lioness she’d come to know over the past year.
Emil tightened her hold, squeezing Erika’s already slim waist even tighter. “Ugh…” It wasn’t her chest or lungs that hurt, yet Erika felt her brain deprived of oxygen, her breath growing ragged.
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