The Depressed Demon King and His Bedchamber Maid - Chapter 36

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Every word and action she had done to the Demon King—and every thing he had done to her—rose up vividly, choking her by the throat moment by moment.

‘I’m going mad!’

Edawin’s accusation—’You have cast the great honor of Haldegard into the dirt’—was nothing compared to what she had actually done and endured.

By the royal code, Eredite’s proper course would be to take her own life before being branded with the slur ‘heretic.’ Or else be executed.

“Hah!”

She swung her blade in fierce self-loathing, and a leaping branch raked across her face as it flew past.

The scratches on her face kept multiplying, but she did not stop.

The more she tried to turn away from the unforgettable memories, the more violently they stormed inside her head.

Then, crashing into an enormous branch blocking her path with no time to evade, she was thrown from her horse.

Buried deep in the thick snow, she wasn’t injured—but Eredite didn’t get up.

She could see a crow that had followed her relentlessly, perched on the tip of a tangled treetop, looking down.

Feeling sudden hot moisture spill at the corners of her eyes, she covered them with her arm.

‘Await your disposal. Until the best means to uphold the honor of Haldegard is decided.’

After Edawin had left—warning her in a tone laced with contempt—Eredite had been preparing herself to accept whatever disposal might be handed down. The disgrace of having ‘fallen into whoredom with the demons’ would be unavoidable.

‘I’ll probably have to leave this place.’

A change of post would be better than staying here, so close to ‘him.’

Better for her own endurance, too. To let the memories fade.

But could they ever fade?

Those thick, dense memories of tangling with the Demon King as if one body—countless times over?

‘I can’t remember, but I felt like we were that kind of pair! But did I like Your Majesty a lot?’

‘I like you, Lae. Hm? Are you listening?’

‘Yeah. The more we do this, the more you’ll like it.’

‘Tell me you like me. And fill me up full again, Lae. Okay?’

‘I’m nothing but His Majesty’s mistress, so they said I’ll be cast aside once the season is over! Do I have to leave the castle soon now?’

‘Please put it in now… Your Majesty’s thing.’

‘Nngh… yes, Lae. Being so full of you feels so good. I want you to go deeper….’

‘You can’t shove this into another woman…! Yours, ahht, yeah…!’

Eredite contorted her face, trying to block out the shameful memories crashing in like waves.

But heat only rose to the crown of her head, and from the corners of her burning eyes, the endlessly welling moisture simply streamed down her cheeks.

For a long while, as she lay buried in the snow, the cawing of a crow echoed above her—indifferent, relentless.

* * *

Laegar could not tear his gaze away from the crystal orb swirling with white grains of snow.

Ten days had passed since Eredite had left his side, but his eyes remained nailed to her alone.

There had been a fleeting moment when impulse nearly drove him to bring her back.

But he soon recalled the purpose he had long desired.

His plan to die by her hand.

Now, it felt like a fixed fate. There was no other choice.

Yet the image of her projected in the crystal orb showed no sign of such intent.

She only ran, cut, subjugated, and tormented herself self-destructively.

“Nurture your rage in proportion to your suffering, Eredite.”

A low laugh spilled from his somberly twisted lips. The sound was rough, like a saw cutting stone.

“Then turn that rage back on me. Come to kill me, Eredite.”

When she charged in, the guards would lower the drawbridge and open the way. The massive iron gates would open without a sound, and the soldiers would part to clear her path.

He had arranged it so that the moment she came, she could reach him immediately.

Just as he would not even react—as he had when he first struck her as she charged in, sword raised.

Thus, he had waited for death, licking his lips. But for some reason, Eredite showed no sign of coming for him.

Instead, she only seemed to be swallowing her rage inward, digesting it.

Just as he was about to feel a faint displeasure at that sight, Alfredo returned to him.

Having come back riding a fierce, bitter wind, he approached his master—still sprawled languidly—and reported with deference.

“One of the agents we planted has sent word of signs that the Haldegard royal house intends to send Lady Eredite to the west. It seems to be a plan hatched from the head of the Second Prince Edawin, under the pretext of a ‘marriage alliance.'”