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Chapter 152

  1. Home
  2. From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid
  3. Chapter 152
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This work contains scenes of sadistic coercion and hardcore depictions of BDSM. Reader discretion is advised.

“Do not say that the position is not for you. Do not make excuses like ‘I am not worthy.’ Arzeletta.”

He gave her no room to escape. His will to not let her retreat with nice-sounding words was resolute. The hand that gripped hers was courteous yet strong.

Arzeletta, who was instantly deprived of her words, blinked her tear-filled eyelids.

The Lord’s wife. Not a common Lord who desired a young wife, but a companion to Lord Ragnar, who was firmly bound by his convictions. That was a position that could not even be expressed by the words ‘I am not worthy’.

“Tell me your true feelings.”

“……”

“Were the emotions you showed me all this time… fake?”

She shook her head. That was the one thing that wasn’t true. The way she had been mindlessly swept away by his tenderness and passion that poured down like a downpour every day, the way her heart had ached and pounded so hard it felt like she was suffocating from the pity in his violet eyes that looked at her—that was never a lie.

As she shook her head urgently, the shadow cast over Ragnar’s face lifted slightly. As if it was enough if their past relationship wasn’t a lie.

“Arzeletta. You gave me your permission.”

“……”

“And you felt safe in my arms. You slept peacefully and relied on me. I am no fool. You were sincere.”

“……”

“Am I wrong?”

She shook her head again. Everything he said was right. It wasn’t that he was loving her on his own accord.

It was none other than Arzeletta herself who had chased after him as he tried to flee from temptation, and made him embrace her.

The scars on her back, which had been loved and desired with a heat that was difficult to bear, ached. Arzeletta’s eyelashes trembled at the feeling of fire reigniting in the places where Ragnar’s tongue, lips, and breath had passed.

She thought.

She had to give him the best possible answer.

And it was not an answer that would bring comfort to either of them.

Just like the path of life he had resolutely chosen for her, the most truthful answer and choice would undoubtedly make things most difficult for both of them.

But it was a courage she still had to muster.

It was the minimum courtesy she could show for the immense sincerity he had shown her.

“…I like you, My Lord.”

Arzeletta barely moved her trembling lips.

The words she whispered as sweetly as if murmuring were so sweet that they seemed to repeatedly shatter the Holy Knight’s convictions.

“I feel safe when I am with you, My Lord. I feel protected… I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”

“……”

“So I was grateful. I wanted to repay you. With anything I had…”

“Arzeletta.”

“Because the only thing I have is myself.”

Ragnar’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The composure peculiar to a person who has laid everything down. Ragnar now realized that the woman’s attitude had always made him feel a little bit uneasy.

“That much was sincere.”

“……”

“I thought it was a blessing that I was a maid in the land you rule over. To the point where I felt happy to have the duty to obey your commands.”

“Arzeletta.”

“So you must not give up anything because of me.”

Arzeletta’s voice still swayed as if whispering, but it was resolute. It was a moment she showed very rarely.

“You are a respected and great Lord, and you cannot give up that responsibility to be at ease.”

“That is my burden to bear.”

“I cannot endure it. And the great temple will not grant me permission.”

The woman who would hold a wedding sacrament with Ragnar would undergo an inquisition by the great temple. Everyone thought of it as a mere formality, but for Arzeletta, it was not.

It was the reason why Arzeletta could not even dare to dream of being beside Theogrim, who tirelessly pursued his purpose.

“If you become unhappy, I will also become unhappy. …Certainly.”

“If I have you, I will not be unhappy. I can promise you that. I can stop all that opposition as well.”

“I…”

Arzeletta’s eyelashes trembled sharply. As if making a decision, her slightly crooked lips, bitten tightly, were clearly engraved in Ragnar’s eyes.

“I cannot love you, My Lord.”

Ragnar’s firm chest heaved.

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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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