The Cat Who Weeps in the Dark - Chapter 41

Frankly, she had already washed up before arriving. Helion, with his keen senses, must have caught the scent of soap. She had assumed his insistence on her bathing again was just fastidiousness, but now it seemed he’d been giving her time to steel her nerves.

Not that it changed anything. A scrap of consideration like this didn’t make their current situation any less unbearable.

More than anything, Helion was her enemy. Even if he showered her with gold and treated her like an empress, she wouldn’t feel a flicker of gratitude.

“You’re right. You should have.”

Her reply was flat as she batted away Helion’s lingering hand from her face.

In the past, she wouldn’t have dared—too afraid of provoking even a scratch. But things are different now.

Helion already knew there was something suspicious about her. That alone was enough to have her stripped of her rank. The only reason he hadn’t was because she still held value to him—even if that value was purely carnal.

So no matter how insolent she acted, he wouldn’t cast her out. At least, not until his curiosity was fully sated.

“Take it off.”

But she immediately regretted her defiance.

The languid lion of a man, who had been sprawled carelessly moments ago, abruptly sat up, his gaze pinning her down.

Those golden eyes, usually bright as the sun, were dark today. The ever-present lazy smirk had hardened into a grim line.

Anyone could see he was pissed.

Maybe I should’ve just let him stroke my eyelid.

Now that the command had been issued, fear crashed over her.

She’d almost rather have her nails ripped out or her skin branded. At least she’d been trained to endure that.

However, she’d never been trained to endure this kind of shame. The kingdom’s spy training was for forging great warriors, not for teaching seductive wiles to harlots.

“Didn’t you hear me? Take it off, Katie.”

It was the coercive voice of someone used to giving orders. Helpless, Katie pulled herself up. She got off the bed and stood before the man, her hand reaching for the buttons of her jacket.

Taking off the jacket was easy. She was wearing a shirt underneath anyway, so there was nothing to object to. The problem was what came next.

Katie stood frozen, clad only in her shirt and pants, unable to move. Her hands, unsure where to go, fluttered frantically in the air.

In the end, Katie chose her pants first. Her bottom half had already been exposed to Helion twice. Adding one more time wouldn’t make it any more embarrassing.

As she unbuttoned her pants, his explicit gaze bore down on her. Katie tried her best to feign ignorance, pulling her pants down.

“We’ll be here all night at this rate. For someone who told me to hurry up and get out, you’re awfully slow.”

“I never said that.”

“That’s how it sounded to me. Or, are you trying to stall? Thinking you can just get through tonight safely?”

Even as he mocked her, Helion’s gaze was fixed on her white drawers. Katie instinctively pressed her legs together, feeling a strange throb below. She didn’t forget to pull down the hem of her shirt.

Helion leaned back, propping himself up with his hands. He looked as relaxed as if he were admiring a work of art.

“That underwear too. You’re not hoping I’ll rip that off again, are you?”

Katie’s cheeks flushed at the crude remark. It was from overwhelming shame, but to Helion’s eyes, it simply looked like shyness.

He licked his dry lips with his tongue. Katie flinched, pulling back the hand she had reached for her underwear, as if he seemed to be savoring the sight.

Her movements were excessively sluggish. He, too, could be unhurried, but Katie today was particularly slow.

Finally, the band of her drawers slid down. Passing over her wide hips and plump mound, the underwear fluttered and then dropped.

Because she always wore oversized clothes, a light pink valley was revealed between her thighs, peeking out from under the shirt that reached her mid-thigh.

“Ha.”

So that’s the color. Helion felt his head spin for a moment.

He had torn off her underwear last time, but then he was too busy moving her around to even think about spreading her open and looking inside. And her core, which he was seeing for the first time, was a paler shade than he had imagined.

A pink like white paint heavily diluted with a single drop of blood. It was completely different from her lips, which she constantly chewed on when she felt uncomfortable, always a vivid red.

If so, what about deeper inside?

As the thought crossed his mind, his hand reached out.