From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid - Chapter 148

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

Sadly, it was ecstatic. The fact that she could give him anything he asked for. That she had to dedicate anything, her scars, her flaws, her existence, her past, and her future, if Ragnar commanded it.

If she found it sweet to be his maid, bound to him by duty, then something was surely wrong with her.

Ragnar lifted Arzeletta into his arms.

Arzeletta rested her tired body against him and panted. Her heart pounded as if she had finished a full sprint. Today, it truly, truly felt as though he had embraced her.

Ragnar wiped every corner of Arzeletta’s body with a soft cloth. In the black and red darkness, she silently looked at the man’s face.

She liked his brow, which would faintly furrow as he looked down at all the bruises, handprints, and stains he had left on her. She liked the light sigh he let out as he wiped away the fluid that had even soaked her lower abdomen.

Arzeletta’s fingertips touched Ragnar’s brow. She gently stroked the fine lines between his eyebrows.

It was an action she had committed without thinking.

“……!”

And she immediately felt a chill run down the back of her neck.

…How dare she touch the Lord’s face without permission?

“Arzeletta.”

Ragnar spoke. It was his usual resolute voice. Arzeletta’s slender throat gulped with tension.

He threw the cloth he had used to wipe Arzeletta’s body somewhere. Soon, he pulled the sheet up and wrapped it around her naked body.

“Look at me.”

At the man’s command, she carefully raised her gaze. The moonlight projected through the red window seemed especially transparent tonight.

His hand carefully cupped Arzeletta’s small, white face.

With her weak body covered by the black sheet, the maid, who had lifted her face as if offering herself, was beautiful.

The Holy Knight’s hand traced her forehead, eyebrows, the corners of her eyes, her nostrils, her philtrum, and the space between her eyebrows, one by one, as if drawing them.

It felt as if he were finally facing what he had been running from his entire life.

“I do not know why you always seem so sad when you look at me.”

“…You are the same, My Lord.”

Arzeletta replied. It was a thought she had always wanted to voice.

At her words, Ragnar laughed like a sigh. His smile was so unfamiliar that Arzeletta pressed her heart with the hand that held the sheet.

The maid’s breath felt soft on his hands. The woman who seemed like she would endlessly corrupt him was kind and vulnerable. Perhaps it was the humble but holy maid’s desire, to somehow reach God despite any pain, that had brought them to this point.

“I must take you as my bride.”

Arzeletta did not immediately understand the words that followed.

Ragnar stroked her eyelashes, which blinked innocently as usual. His touch was as careful as if he were tracing a butterfly’s wings.

“I intend to hold a wedding sacrament with you, Arzeletta.”

“……”

“I want to know what you think.”

Arzeletta held her breath for a moment. Her face still seemed to not understand the meaning of what she had just heard.

Ragnar smiled at Arzeletta, who looked up at him with clear eyes. It was a smile that was still like a surrender to something, like swallowing something bitter, but it was magnificent. As if today’s defeat were somewhat pleasant.

“It must be too sudden to hear such a thing in a place like this, in such a manner. I apologize.”

“……”

“It is something I never thought I would do.”

Arzeletta’s body swayed. Her head felt dizzy. Ragnar familiar with the task, supported her as she leaned against him limply.

“If you give me your permission, I will formally propose again. With all the proper procedures.”

“……”

“I will make you my person with honor.”

A resonance spread from deep within Arzeletta’s body. Her ears pounded. The resonance grew louder and louder, like a drumbeat approaching from a distance.

“Are you alright?”

Only after hearing Ragnar’s words did Arzeletta realize how pale her face had become. It felt as if her body temperature had suddenly dropped and then abruptly risen again. Arzeletta nodded with difficulty. Even that was not easy.

“Arzeletta.”

“……”

“Arzeletta.”

At Ragnar’s firm voice, Arzeletta lifted her head again.

The man’s face, turned towards her, was more serious than she had ever experienced. In his full uniform, he was the great Lord that Arzeletta knew so well.