The canopied room was lit only by the dim, flickering glow of leftover candlelight casting faint shadows against the wall.
The night air was chilly, yet the atmosphere atop the golden bed was suffocatingly dense and warm.
Alexander no longer held back.
The smirk on his handsome face was not merely arrogance; it was a king’s victory feast after finally conquering the last stronghold.
For months, he had watched this girl from afar.
Seeing how Elena refused to bow, how her honey-colored eyes burned with the pride of a former noblewoman, and tonight, that pride was shattered into pieces beneath his absolute control.
“These eyes…” Alexander whispered low, his cool fingers gently caressing Elena’s tear-stained eyelids.
“I love it when you look at me like this.
Desperate, resigned, and completely mine.”
Alexander’s grip on Elena’s waist felt suffocatingly possessive.
For other noblemen, beauty meant a waist the size of a single hand-span and a slender, swan-like neck.
But for Alexander, every inch of Elena’s curvy body was a masterpiece created specifically to satisfy his dark desires.
Her flawless pale skin, her full shoulders, down to her fiery red hair splayed in messy waves–everything was now exposed without a shield.
Yet, despite his insane obsession and absolute dominance, Alexander did not treat Elena in a physically harsh or brutal manner.
The man’s touch made the hair on Elena’s neck stand up, yet she couldn’t bring herself to push him away.
It wasn’t just because of the threat against her father, but because she slowly began to realize that this act was not as torturous as she had imagined.
Elena had been terrified.
She was afraid of being abused like the horrifying stories she heard from servants who served their masters.
Fearing the bizarre, inhumane fetishes of noblemen that they couldn’t unleash on their lawful wives, such as being forced to serve the master and his friends all at once, receiving urine or filth in their mouths, being struck, or pounded mercilessly until they were near death.
The haunting visions of such cruel perversions continuously plagued her mind, causing Elena’s body to tremble violently beneath Alexander’s hold.
“Elena, look at me,” Alexander commanded, noticing her distant, hollow stare.
Elena startled.
With a trembling voice, she mustered the courage to speak.
“I’m scared…
I don’t want it to hurt.”
Alexander shook his head lightly, a smile that was brimming with lust yet surprisingly gentle carving onto his face.
“Shh, calm down, sweetheart,” he whispered, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear.
“I want you to enjoy this, too.”
Warm kisses rained down softly upon Elena’s full lips, caressing her with a tender slowness that gradually crumbled the walls of her panic.
After stripping off his own clothes, Alexander pressed his body over Elena, moving above her.
The space between them shrank into an intense, breathless intimacy.
Elena held her breath, fear still locking her body as stiff as stone.
Just the initial friction of Alexander pressing against her caused her plush body to jump in shock.
“Ah…
please…
don’t do this,” Elena pleaded in a frail whisper.
Alexander let out a low chuckle at her endearing reaction.
He then guided himself toward the entrance of the pleasure he had craved for a month.
“Ready?” Alexander whispered, his voice deep and seductive against her ear.
“P-please go slow, Your Highness…” Elena squeaked softly, her fingers gripping the silk bedsheets beneath her, not daring to touch Alexander’s body.
“I…
this is my first time.
I’m afraid.”
Hearing that whisper, Alexander paused abruptly.
His blue eyes stared deep into Elena’s glistening ones.
There was a faint flicker of humanity and gentleness in his gaze, a confusing contrast to the demonic figure she had feared all this time.
Elena, who had assumed Alexander no longer possessed a soul due to his ruthless nature as a criminal lord, was left stunned.
Alexander did not force her.
Instead, he wrapped Elena in warmth.
He lowered his head, pampering her forehead, cheeks, and lips with soft touches and an extraordinarily gentle french kiss, until Elena unwittingly succumbed to the mood and kissed him back.
His long fingers moved slowly, exploring and teasing the sensitive spots of her full body, guiding her out of her tension.
Amidst her mental confusion, Elena felt her head spin.
The moment felt intensely paradoxical.
She knew she was being forced, she knew she was being oppressed, yet Alexander’s gentle treatment made her chest swell strangely.
For a dangerous split second, Elena felt…
loved, if only for a brief moment.
Alexander reached for Elena’s hands and draped them around his neck, forcing their gazes to lock together.
“Do you feel it, sweetheart?” Alexander whispered in a raspy, longing tone.
Elena could only nod softly with ragged breaths, unable to deny her body’s natural response.
“Does it feel a little good?” Alexander asked again, wiping the sweat from her forehead with his thumb to ensure she wasn’t in pain.
“Mmgh…
a little slower…” Elena finally whimpered.
The sound of Elena’s restrained, breathless whimpers sent Alexander’s satisfaction soaring.
It sounded intoxicatingly sexy to him.
“Don’t hold back your moans, sweetheart.
Call me Alex…
Say my name.”
Elena hesitated, but a slow yet deep thrust from Alexander blew her sanity away.
She finally cried out his name aloud.
“Alex…
I-I can’t take it, ah!”
Touch after touch flowed without any agonizing physical coercion.
Alexander ensured Elena enjoyed every second of their union.
When the peak of pleasure finally washed over them and they lay side by side, Alexander wrapped his arm around Elena’s fleshy waist, pulling her flush against his chest.
His fingers never stopped stroking her waist, as though her voluptuous curves were his new favorite place to touch.
“Are you satisfied?
I want more…” Alexander murmured huskily, gazing at Elena’s flushed face.
Elena looked down, hiding her face against the Crown Prince’s bare chest.
Amidst her exhaustion and internal confusion, another anxiety weighed on her mind.
In a barely audible voice, Elena gathered the courage to express her worry.
“Your Highness…
I think I will disappoint you,” Elena whispered softly.
Alexander waited patiently for her explanation, his noble hand busy stroking Elena’s messy, curly red hair.
“I…
I can’t and won’t swallow sperm.
I also don’t want to touch your manhood with my tongue or mouth like other women do.
I truly cannot do it…
The thought alone makes me want to vomit.”
Alexander went silent for a moment.
But rather than growing angry or insulted, the Crown Prince let out a low, genuine laugh that sounded surprisingly warm.
As fate would have it, they were perfectly compatible.
Alexander himself was not a man who cared for oral service from women.
For him, the touch of hands and direct physical union were more than enough.
“I don’t need any of those things, Elena,” Alexander said gently.
He took her fingers and guided them to stroke his chest, while he resumed pampering her body without demanding anything in return.
He leaned in close to her ear and whispered in an absolute tone, “All I want is you.
Whatever form your service takes, as long as it comes from you, I will love it.”
Those words sealed their night.
Elena eventually drifted off to sleep from sheer exhaustion inside the prince’s warm embrace.
And what might have shocked the entire world had anyone known was this: they had only done one round that night.
Alexander chose to restrain his burning desires because he understood how sore Elena’s body must be after losing her maidenhood.
By the time the sun fully rose, Alexander had vanished from the luxurious room and bed.
All that remained on the rumpled silk sheets was Elena, alone.
With a sore body and stiff fingers, Elena put her dull servant clothes back on.
Every rub of the coarse fabric against her sensitive skin felt like an absurd dream from the night before.
She walked down the mansion’s corridor like a living corpse, her feet dragging, her eyes staring blankly at the cold stone floor.
The trauma and confusion of that night hit her mercilessly.
The memory of Alexander’s tenderness, so starkly contrasting his usual cruelty.
The rich scent of sandalwood and snow, and his sweet whispers kept echoing in her mind.
His gentle touches paradoxically deepened her guilt and nausea.
She had surrendered herself.
She had let the man she feared most break down her final defense.
With what little strength she had left, Elena forced her legs toward the laundry room—the only place she could hide behind piles of dirty clothes and the pungent smell of soap suds.
As she submerged both hands into a tub of freezing water, the sharp sting on her skin slightly distracted her from her emotional turmoil.
Nearby, two senior female servants were busy scrubbing noblewomen’s gowns while gossiping loudly.
“Did you hear?
Lord Benedict from the western region allegedly hired three new mistresses in the capital, and he visits them every single night!” one servant gossiped while wringing out a thick cloth.
“Ah, that’s hardly news!” the other servant chimed in with a cynical laugh.
“Those noblemen are all the same.
Show me a single blue-blooded man who can stay faithful to one partner!
Forget the men, even the noble ladies have plenty of lovers behind their husbands’ backs.”
“Exactly.
To those rich folk, a partner is just a temporary temptation.
Before they get what they want, they chase after it like crazy, treating it like a rare treasure.
But once they finally touch it or claim it?” The first servant waved her hand dismissively.
“It lasts a week or two at most.
After that, they get bored, realize it’s all the same, and toss it aside to find a new toy.”
“Hahaha!
Men are just like that.
The harder it is to get, the more obsessed they are.
But once it falls into their hands, the magic vanishes instantly!”
The casual, indifferent conversation between the two laundry women struck Elena’s consciousness like a bolt of lightning out of a clear sky.
Elena froze.
Her hands holding the linen cloth stopped moving.
Soap water dripped from her trembling fingers.
‘Noble men are never faithful…
They are only curious about what they don’t yet possess…’
The thought crept in and illuminated the dark corners of Elena’s mind, bringing a profound sense of clarity and immense relief.
‘Right…’ Elena thought, her tight chest suddenly releasing a long, deep breath.
‘Why am I overthinking this so much?
Alexander is the Crown Prince.
The most arrogant man in the entire empire.’
Elena stared at her reflection on the still surface of the washbasin.
Her face was pale and her body was full and curvy–far from the standard of beauty of the noble ladies who usually surrounded Alexander at court.
‘All this time, he was only obsessed because I kept rejecting him,’ she reasoned as her rationality returned.
‘He chased me simply because I was the one thing he couldn’t buy.
But now?
He has gotten what he wanted.
He satisfied his curiosity tonight.’
A comforting conclusion settled over her soul.
She might have given up her body tonight, but it was a one-time price paid for her freedom and her family’s safety.
Alexander would inevitably realize that a servant’s body was no different from any other woman’s, and in time, he would grow weary of her.
He would definitely get bored.
Once tonight’s crazy thrill evaporated, Alexander would turn away, forget her, and discard her like a used object that was no longer interesting.
‘So be it…’ Elena whispered in her heart, gripping the linen cloth in her hands with renewed resolve.
‘Let him discard me after this.
That is exactly what I hope for.’
And Elena’s fatal mistake was not listening to the gossip until the very end, causing her to miss a crucial piece of information about Alexander.
She was certain Alexander’s game had ended tonight, and tomorrow, the prince would leave her behind in oblivion.
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