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Chapter 60

  1. Home
  2. Even If It's Depraved
  3. Chapter 60
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Realizing what he meant, she lifted her gaze again. Through the tangled, matted strands of his hair, his black eyes stared straight at her calmly, as though he already knew everything.

“Carl will probably want to kill me. Wouldn’t you say?”

“You…”

“Don’t look at me like that. I expected as much. I’m not even that resentful.”

His lips, softened slightly by the water, finally curved into something like his usual smile.

“It’s a bit of a shame, though… that I won’t get to taste the princess’s wanton body again.”

“…Is it really such a shame?”

Brunhilde’s response was not what he expected.

Franz blinked, caught off guard, and looked into her eyes. Those violet irises—mysterious as violets blooming at dawn—met his gaze without the slightest retreat.

“Then… have a taste.”

“……”

Taking a step closer, Brunhilde pressed herself up against the bars. Through the gap, she touched her lips to the iron as an unspoken invitation.

He knew he should think, should understand what she was trying to do. But the moment he saw her parted lips, all reason slipped away.

As if possessed, Franz moved closer, gripping the bars. Forcing his battered body upright, he pressed his lips to hers through the cold iron.

“Mmh…!”

Their tongues met in the narrow space between them. Even with the bars separating them, that kiss felt deeper, more intoxicating than any they had ever shared before.

It ended only when both were driven to the edge of breathlessness.

Brunhilde pulled back first, as if fleeing from the way he devoured her. Watching the restrained hunger still flickering in his eyes, she pressed a hand to her chest, steadying herself.

After forcing her breathing under control, she spoke quietly.

“I’ll come again when Carl leaves.”

“To give a condemned man a farewell kiss?”

“No. To give you your freedom.”

Franz’s expression changed at once, grasping the meaning behind her words. Adjusting her clothes, brushing her lips lightly, Brunhilde turned away. But not before leaving him with the most important thing.

“The next time I come alone… that’s the day we leave. Be ready.”

A flicker of resolve passed across her face just before she fully turned.

* * *

The next day, Carlos returned. And just as he had said before, he left again three days later.

‘When he comes back this time… he’ll kill Franz.’

Two days earlier, Brunhilde had insisted on seeing Franz again. Though clearly displeased, Carlos had led her down to the prison.

Franz had still been drenched in blood, looking more gaunt than before.

And she… had cursed him.

“After all those years of doing as you pleased, this is what you deserve. Filthy rapist. Bastard.“

“When you get to hell, give my husband my regards. Tell him you enjoyed violating his young bride all these years.“

Like someone finally unleashing fifteen years of pent-up fury, she poured out her anger—and when that wasn’t enough, she demanded the prison be opened.

Carlos had tried to calm her, then called for the mute guard to unlock the door. Brunhilde had struck Franz across the face again and again, only leaving once she had vented everything she could.

And now, today.

After confirming that Carlos had ridden out, she put her plan into motion.

Because Carlos had been visiting her so often—lingering, pressing close—she hadn’t been able to prepare as much as she wanted. Still, she gathered what little she had managed to hide from him and fastened a large necklace around her neck.

Then she laced wine with a sleeping draught and headed to the underground prison.

She offered the drink as a bribe, claiming she had the lord’s permission. The guard, dazzled by the rare liquor, handed over the keys without suspicion. After making sure he drank it, she slipped inside.

The man inside the solitary cell, seated like a statue with his head bowed, sensed her presence almost immediately and looked up.

“Carl won’t return until tomorrow.”

She whispered as she opened the door.

“The stables are heavily guarded now, we won’t be able to steal horses. We’ll have to travel on foot until we find another.”

Creak—The iron door groaned open.

She hurried inside and removed the shackles binding his ankles. Strangely, among the keys, only the one for the leg restraints had been included.

“Drink water on the way out, we need to move first. I drugged the guard, and the main entrance is empty. I couldn’t prepare much, but I brought some valuables. Your hands will be difficult to use, but we’ll deal with that once we’re out—”

“Brunhilde.”

Franz called her name, his voice still rough and broken.

He looked down at her—at the way she had instinctively taken hold of his arm—and spoke quietly.

“You should run. Alone.”

“…What are you talking about? You’re coming with—”

“If Heen wasn’t caught, she’ll be waiting at the cabin in the woods behind the back gate. Go with her. Get somewhere Carl can’t find you.”

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    Aristocracy, Arranged Marriage, BG, Family Drama, Female Protagonist, R19

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