Chapter 72
Arendtert clicked his tongue sharply. He had given in to Grizelle’s blackmail and taken her to bed, then unexpectedly he had gained the effect of purification. Just as she had insisted all along, she was indeed a Purifier.
The problem, however, was that their compatibility rate was ridiculously low. Compatibility shifted according to the depth of affection. There was no way it could be high. Arendtert despised her.
Yes, he loathed her. A vulgar woman who did not know her place and threw herself at a prince of the Empire. Ignorant, clinging, insufferable.
That was the entirety of Arendtert’s opinion of Grizelle.
And on top of that, she was appallingly bad in bed. All eagerness and no skill, flicking her tongue about. If not for the purification, he would have thrown her out long ago.
‘Sylaria would never have been like this.’
Along with the disgust of being forced into this, his lingering regret over what he could not have swelled like a snowball.
Truthfully, the compatibility rate with Grizelle was not that different from what he’d had with Sylaria. But his feelings for the two women were worlds apart.
Every moment he lay with Grizelle, Arendtert compared her to Sylaria. Each time he found something distasteful in Grizelle, his thoughts turned bitterly toward Sylaria.
If only it were Sylaria instead of Grizelle.
Then the act would have been far more pleasurable. She would not have lunged recklessly and cluelessly, unlike Grizelle. If it were Sylaria, his c**k would not have taken so long to harden. Sometimes just the sight of her face had been enough to stir him.
But damnably, the one before him now was not Sylaria. It was the leech-like Grizelle.
“You begged me to hold you, and I did. Now I’m done with you. Get out!”
“Your Highness!”
Arendtert shoved Grizelle hard. She fell to the floor pitifully, but he did not spare her a glance.
‘I got my purification. Should I just kill her?’
He gulped down a glass of cold water, debating. He had gotten what he needed; it would be simpler to dispose of her now. He had given in before because of his shoulder wound and her threats, but that was over.
He thought of burying her beside the physician he had killed not long ago and letting her rot into fertilizer for his palace’s garden.
‘Yes. That would be better.’
Arendtert reached a conclusion and moved to call Lionel. His hand had just reached for the pull cord when the door to the bedchamber burst open.
“Arendtert!”
“Mother?”
The Empress stormed in, face twisted with fury. Her ladies-in-waiting followed close behind. She stopped abruptly when she saw Grizelle crumpled on the floor.
“And who are you?”
“Y-Your Majesty the Empress!”
Grizelle flattened herself to the ground, sobbing wretchedly. Arendtert pressed a hand to his forehead in exasperation. Now that the Empress and her attendants had seen Grizelle, there was no clean way to get rid of the wench. He would have to settle for something less final.
But he underestimated Grizelle. Her greed ran far deeper than he imagined.
“Your Majesty, I am the Second Prince’s Purifier. For the past three nights, I gave him my maidenhood! And— mmph—!”
“Have you lost your mind!”
Grizelle’s bombshell made both the Empress and Arendtert go pale. He lunged to clamp a hand over her mouth, but the damage was done.
“Mmmph!”
“M-Mother, it’s not true! It’s not what you think!”
Arendtert cried out in panic. Unfortunately, the door had not fully closed when the Empress entered, and the commotion had spilled into the corridor. Passing attendants had seen and heard everything.
“…Release the woman, Arendtert.”
Cressida spoke with an icy, pale face. When he hesitated, she shot him a cutting glare.
“Now.”
At her command, Arendtert slowly removed his hand from Grizelle’s mouth.
Freed from his grip, Grizelle began to weep harder. Behind the Empress, the ladies whispered, and even those outside murmured at the scene.
“Hic… Your Majesty the Empress!”
Grizelle sobbed louder, seizing the advantage of the moment. Cressida looked down at her coldly, then began to walk forward, slow and deliberate.
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