From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid - Chapter 144

This work contains scenes of sadistic coercion and hardcore depictions of BDSM. Reader discretion is advised.

Even though she had experienced it enough to be familiar, the woman’s faint flinch was clear. Her small face, which shone whiter in the darkness, and her delicate eye corners, turned red.

Arzeletta quietly nodded and went to his bedchamber without a sound.

He prayed before the empty cup. Slowly drinking the sacrificial rose wine that resembled blood, he gauged the scent that had settled in his space. The scents of blood and flowers, the presence left behind where the scent of the lilies he had lit had vanished.

Ragnar headed to the bedchamber.

The sound of his cold military boots echoed through the quiet bedchamber. His figure was cast long on the gleaming black marble, like a shadow on water.

Like a quietly placed flower branch, the maid who had been sitting on the bed raised her head.

He never grew accustomed to the emotion of the moment her white, beautiful face turned towards him. With a feeling that pressed heavily on his heart, Ragnar stopped and looked down at the woman.

He could not forget the intense feeling that had overwhelmed him that afternoon, upon seeing the white moon-flower.

I want to face this woman in the sunlight.

Arzeletta’s green eyes blinked. Ragnar’s gaze towards her was more frightening and dark than usual.

Arzeletta, who had been staring at him for a moment, then slowly raised her hands.

Her neat fingertips untied the knot on Arzeletta’s shoulder.

“……!”

Her simple clothes instantly came undone, revealing her white body. Arzeletta held the flowing black fabric, covering only her chest slightly, and looked up at him.

Ragnar bit his lip.

“Ah…!”

Arzeletta’s eyes widened as she saw the man lunging at her.

There was no need to be so hasty. And yet, at this moment, Ragnar acted like a starving man.

Arzeletta’s lips were swallowed. Arzeletta opened her mouth and received his tongue, like someone who had been waiting all along. Her hands, which held the flowing garments, looked as if they were praying.

Arzeletta’s body was pushed back by the man’s hands. The black clothing was pushed down, and the white flesh revealed was grasped by Ragnar’s hands. Ragnar stroked her soft b*****s with his large hands and delved deeper into her.

Arzeletta’s lips were sweet like flower water. A faint taste of blood was present, and a subtle floral scent brushed past Ragnar’s nose.

It must be the scent of the ritual that filled this space. The scent left behind by the prayer Arzeletta had offered to him personally.

“Ah…! My Lord…!”

Arzeletta was startled and called out to him. The Lord was different from usual. He lifted Arzeletta’s body with great force. She was laid facedown beneath the man’s gaze.

“……!”

Arzeletta strongly twisted her body.

Ragnar was pushing back her hair. Just as she had done several times before, Arzeletta shook her head.

“Ah, there…!”

“Arzeletta.”

“N-no…”

But Ragnar did not listen to her refusal. He gathered the black, smooth hair that had fallen over Arzeletta’s back and laid it alongside her neck.

Arzeletta’s heart beat strongly.

The Lord was trying to look at her scars.

“Ah, My Lord, please…”

“Shh, Arzeletta.”

Ragnar’s firm voice fell upon Arzeletta’s thin back. Arzeletta tensed up.

No matter how gentlemanly he was in bed, Ragnar’s command was absolute. No one in this domain dared to harbor the thought of disobeying his orders.

“Stay still.”

Arzeletta lay flat, her eyelashes trembling. She felt a sense of despair as Ragnar’s fingers traced her scars in the darkness.

Did he find out?

The place where her bones were exposed and her wings were cut off was covered with severe burns. At a glance, the wound’s shape might be unrecognizable, but if one looked closely with suspicion and examined the area, it would be impossible not to find out.