Episode 21: Excessive Consideration (6)
Hashana pulled the completely unconscious Iskandel over her like a blanket and closed her eyes.
The beat of his heart thumped low through her whole body like a drum announcing the start of a war.
The more his face, nestled between her shoulder and neck, released slightly ragged breaths, the more her own heart sped up to match his pace.
‘Why am I doing this…’
With a large gulp, Hashana carefully pushed him away so as not to wake him and sat up.
When his strong arms, which had been wrapped around her neck and waist, fell limply away, her heart gave a jarring lurch.
She felt like a stranger to herself, resenting that he no longer clung to her and missing the sensations she had just experienced.
When she turned her head in embarrassment, the blood he had spilled came into view.
The stains that had soaked the bed and blankets were slowly turning into clear water marks, purified by the divine power she had unconsciously released.
Maybe it was because the heat in her body had not yet cooled; even the crumpled, damp sheets looked somehow obscene.
‘Ugh… It looks like Rsanda’s bed the morning after she’s spent the night with a group of priests.’
Blushing, Hashana lifted her head, and a sudden, large question rose in her mind.
‘I’ve seen naked male bodies more times than I can count.
I know all too well how Rsanda and the other goddesses indulge in their debauched pleasures… So why am I acting so strangely?
Like an idiot.’
Annoyed by the unfamiliar turmoil of her own emotions, Hashana fixed her gaze on Iskandel’s heaving chest.
Droplets—whether blood turned clear through purification or sweat he had shed—clung to his flat chest, then trickled down, unable to withstand the force of his still-rapid panting.
The moment she felt the urge to trace the path those rivulets had carved, she bit her lip in disgust.
‘Blood turning clear is something I’ve seen countless times while healing people.
Why am I like this over something so trivial?
Did the sedative herbs soaked into this man’s body somehow rub off on me?’
She shook her head sharply to fling away these uncharacteristic thoughts, spread her fingers wide, and took several deep breaths infused with divine power, forcing herself to calm down.
When she opened her eyes, the man who had been sagging in a sweaty heap was slowly regaining a normal rhythm to his breathing.
‘My first night… with this man…’
As she listened to his now even breaths, the sensations from earlier came back to life.
That strange heat she had never felt before.
The contact that pushed forward regardless of her will.
The unfamiliar experience of that rudeness did not feel unpleasant.
When she swallowed, the image of his strong throat bobbing with a big gulp came naturally to mind.
She could not deny that she had been just as parched as he was, judging by the thirst that had traveled from his jaw to his neck under her hand.
Her gaze slid down to the center of his long, lean body, still holding a heat that had not yet dissipated.
The massive, dark-red, rigid pillar, slick with the fluids they had both shed, drew her eyes as if hypnotizing her.
When the spot she had been watching with bated breath was covered by the sleeping man’s shifting body, a deep vertical line formed between her brows.
Without even realizing she was expressing her displeasure, Hashana tapped his curled-up knee with her index finger.
Once she had finally managed to get Iskandel lying flat again, she slowly took in the body revealed to her.
On that physique, sculpted as if by the Capital’s greatest artist blessed by Karasvati, there was one thing whose color and shape were so different, so ominous, that it seemed to have forgotten how to settle down, brazenly presenting itself to her. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
‘So I’m supposed to take this inside me…?’
Staring at the shaft of flesh with eyes full of mingled worry and curiosity, Hashana brought the knuckle of her index finger to the slick, gleaming foreskin with the reverent touch of someone handling a sacred offering.
Each time she slowly rubbed the viscous fluid—whether it was hers or his, it was impossible to tell—the veins standing out along the shaft twitched sharply, oozing more clear fluid.
Even his long, peacefully closed eyes crinkled faintly in response to her movements.
As she traced those veins with fingers that had quickly grown slick and sticky, a small smile played on her lips at a thought she had never had before.
‘When this man wakes up, I should wrap him in that very thin fabric the people of Durgtah wear.
Then I can sit back and enjoy the sight of him flustered and embarrassed, trying to hide his body as it shows faintly through the parted fabric.’
“I am very pleased to see you are so delighted with my gift.”
Without a sound, Rsanda appeared at Hashana’s side.
She rested her head on her creation’s shoulder with a satisfied smile and spoke.
Hashana held her breath, cleared her mind, and schooled her expression.
“Oh my. Did he toss that book aside because he knows it so well he doesn’t even need to read it?”
Glancing toward the two books that had been carelessly tossed onto the distant desk, Rsanda sighed and stroked Hashana’s hair with fond approval.
“You have no idea how worried I was in that short time. A girl who never acts like that suddenly went charging off, yelling at the top of her lungs… I thought, Surely she isn’t planning to send this guy back to the Capital without even tasting him first.”
Chuckling to herself in satisfaction, Rsanda followed Hashana’s gaze to her hand and let out a brief exclamation.
“Well now… The child of a priest of Disorde is truly different in every way.”
Only then did Hashana’s reason snap back into place.
She snatched her fingers away in a panic, curled them into a fist, and hurriedly hid her hand behind her back.
But it was all for nothing.
Before her hand was even settled behind her, she had to thrust it forward again.
Rsanda watched as her creation hastily pulled the blanket up to cover Iskandel’s naked body, then burst into hearty laughter.
“Just look at you. A good show like this should be shared. I’ll be hurt if you don’t even let me have a look, you know.”
She remained silent.
Flushed bright red from her neck to her ears, Hashana shot her a glare.
Meeting those sharp eyes, Rsanda’s lips twitched into a smirk as she pressed a loving kiss to her creation’s cheek.
“This must have been quite exhausting for you, since it was your first time.
You should get plenty of rest, too.”
“What do you mean, my first time?”
“Your holy power just flashed across all of Durgtah like a bolt of lightning, and you think you can deny it?
Thanks to you, every enimu tree, every sickly donkey, and even that rampaging flock of geese has become immeasurably holy.
You can take the next couple of days off, and it will be fine.”
Hashana squeezed her eyes shut.
She shoved Rsanda away and strode to the window, yanking the curtains open.
She stared blankly for a moment at the lingering traces of golden holy power drifting outside like a fine drizzle, then suddenly raised her voice.
“Every time I transfer holy power from his body, it flashes like this?
Are you serious?”
“Of course.
I need to know if the training is going properly, if the spy Karasvati sent is training my lovely saintess correctly, don’t I?”
“Even if you want to check on my training, this is too much!
Making it flash like this—what, are you trying to broadcast what I’m doing to all the believers in real time?”
“Lower your voice.
He’ll come to his senses soon, and there’s nothing to be gained by raising our voices in front of the spy, is there?”
“Do you find this fun, Rsanda?
Accusing an honored guest of being a spy and watching me flail between the two of you?”
“I am the god of war.
Psychological warfare is one of the finest delicacies among the many forms of combat.”
Rsanda answered as if the question were absurd and winked.
At that trivial gesture, Hashana, who had been gripping the curtain, suddenly floated into the air and dropped with a thump onto Iskandel.
“Ugh, don’t hold me down!
What if he wakes up?”
“My dear girl, you know nothing.
He’s about to wake up, so you have to stay right there.”
Clicking her tongue, Rsanda turned and vanished.
The more Hashana struggled, bound by an invisible force on top of Iskandel, the clearer Rsanda’s laughter became as it echoed faintly around the room.
Gritting her teeth, Hashana shouted toward the lingering, laughter-laced echoes.
“How am I supposed to explain this to him?
How am I supposed to spin the fact that every time we’re intimate, all the believers get a live update?”
“…You needn’t trouble yourself.
That was the first thing I heard the moment I came to.”
Iskandel spoke with his eyes still closed, only his lips moving.
Hashana froze in the exact posture she had been in while yelling.
The sound of them swallowing rang absurdly loud in the silence before Iskandel spoke again.
“If it’s all right with you, may I open my eyes, sit up, and put a little distance between us before we talk?
And please, try not to move.”
“Uh… Iskandel.
The thing is, I’m trying to get up, too.”
Every time she strained to lift her body, his hips jerked in a sharp spasm.
The bare skin revealed between her disheveled clothes rubbed against the erection that had hardened against his will, stoking the fire even higher.
Looking down at the woman writhing desperately on top of him, he clenched his jaw the moment her full breasts came into view and spoke honestly.
“Right now, saintess, you are rubbing a very troublesome spot.
And… your breasts are completely exposed.”
“Ah… ah, that, um!”
From his own immobilized body and Hashana’s flustered expression, her face burning with embarrassment, he easily guessed the culprit.
“While I was unconscious, did Rsanda arrange us like this?”
Unable to bring herself to say yes, she could only repeat her apologies.
He let out a short sigh.
Then, meeting her eyes, he gestured downward with them.
Her eyes—which sometimes shone a pale green like new leaves and sometimes a blue clearer than seawater—followed his.
Together, they looked down at the part of him that had swelled in helpless protest.
Iskandel calmly tried to soothe her.
“May I be so bold as to say something?
As someone caught between you and Rsanda, experiencing things that cannot be explained away as mere cultural differences, I feel I must.”
“Of course, say anything you like!”
Only then did Hashana stop squirming and look up at the flushed man.
Iskandel forced a gentle smile for her.
“You are losing this battle.”