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Chapter 135

  1. Home
  2. From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid
  3. Chapter 135
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This work contains scenes of sadistic coercion and hardcore depictions of BDSM. Reader discretion is advised.

For a moment, Ragnar’s expression twisted severely. Arzeletta instinctively stiffened. While Ragnar’s warmth was familiar and he was generous and gentle when embracing her, it didn’t mean he wasn’t frightening.

Trapped in his arms, Arzeletta endured his violet eyes fixed on her. She didn’t know why he looked angry, but Arzeletta could understand him.

“I have to check. Whether this rotten back is contagious with f*****g, or not.”

She recalled the voice she had heard the day she was dragged outside the castle, the day she was almost forcibly made to spend her first night with Yoseph. …Anyone who saw her body would lose the desire.

Unbidden, tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Unloved. Undesired by anyone.

The heart that loves and is loved, the heart that is subordinate. …Even though that was all she possessed.

Ragnar, seeing Arzeletta’s eyes grow moist, was flustered. It was a bewilderment he had never experienced before. He lifted Arzeletta’s hand, which had been fondling his p***s, and made her look at him.

Even in this state, due to his yearning for the maid’s body, his monstrous p***s remained hard as rock.

“Arzeletta. Listen carefully.”

Ragnar felt a sudden chill down his spine from the maid’s green eyes, which looked straight at him.

…Truly, he had never faced such confusion. Not in any conflict, not in any danger.

“Now that I think about it, it seems there was no one to properly teach you.”

“……”

“Me pouring my traces inside your body, Arzeletta.”

Ragnar’s hand again touched Arzeletta’s entrance. Her inner flesh, wet with all her fluids, warm and moist, twitched sensitively at his fingertips.

The lips that parted like a bursting bud, the breath that escaped through them, were excessively lovely. Ragnar continued speaking, feeling defeated countless times just today. Despite his inner turmoil, his tone was resolute.

“It’s a very important matter.”

“……”

“You might conceive.”

Arzeletta’s green eyes widened. Her fingertips, which had been tracing below, moved up along the mound to her flat lower abdomen.

Her waist and abdomen were barely within Ragnar’s hand span. When he spread his hand and placed it on Arzeletta’s stomach, it felt as though her entire being was covered.

“A baby would grow inside your body.”

“…A baby…”

“That is a very sacred and miraculous thing.”

Baby. Arzeletta murmured the word as if hearing it for the first time. At Arzeletta’s pure eyes, repeating his words, and her innocence, Ragnar held onto his crumbling resolve once again.

“…But it would be a child not permitted by God.”

“Ah…”

“If you were to conceive now, that child would become a bastard, Arzeletta.”

Arzeletta inhaled softly.

Arzeletta was not unaware of the contempt held in the word ‘bastard’, especially the scorn directed at children conceived out of wedlock in this insular Rosenburg domain.

Arzeletta helplessly thought of someone.

The back of the man who, like her, had been singled out by everyone in this domain.

The man’s red eyes, who pretended to be strong but was weak, pretended to be brave but was cowardly, and yet, despite all his self-deception, ultimately carved every painful word of the world into his wounds.

“It will be an unwelcome soul. Pointed at for life.”

“…Then, will that child also have red hair?” Arzeletta asked.

They said cursed bastards were born with red hair and red eyes. Under Impellias’s order, bastards were killed as soon as they were born. Their deaths were as swift and secret as their births.

Exion was the only one in the domain who lived shamelessly, branded as a bastard. He was the sole bastard, a living example of the law’s curse fulfilled.

Paradoxically, that also became the reason Exion survived safely in the domain. The high-ranking officials of Impellias despised Exion, the redhead, yet utilized him effectively. Exion’s existence was a warning.

See, the law has been fulfilled. God’s teaching that cursed souls are born with the appearance of demons was right, like this.

People didn’t know what other bastards looked like or how they grew up. Not knowing was the greatest fear. The same was true for Arzeletta.

“…Perhaps.”

At Ragnar’s answer, Arzeletta’s shoulders slumped.

She had truly never thought about such things.

That she might have a child… or that there might be a life beyond that.

“Arzeletta.”

As Arzeletta’s eyes darkened with sudden realization, Ragnar lifted her face. The face, yielding gently to his hand, seemed innocent as if it had never seen the defilement of the world.

Yet, Ragnar now knew that she was a soul who had suffered more than anyone.

“I cannot allow you to commit such a sin.”

Arzeletta nodded. Ragnar again pressed his lips to her eyelids, which gently lowered.

Arzeletta’s sigh brushed over his chest. Ragnar habitually furrowed his brow.

His heart felt a dull ache.

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    Tags:
    Female Protagonist, Obsessive Love, Past Trauma, Possessiveness, R19, Revenge

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    From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid

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