The Nymph Wants to be Plundered - Chapter 43

“Ah…haa….”

Cassis released Evelyn, who was struggling, and studied her. Drenched below and sprawled across the plush chair, she looked utterly devourable from head to toe.

I’ll have to take her to that temple later. She’ll be shocked, but it’s worth seeing.

After the nymphs were wiped out, all remnants of their existence—paintings glorifying their traces—were moved to a place now called the Temple of Nymphs. Scattering them across Jupiter would only dredge up melancholy memories of the nymphs’ prosperous past, especially among the elders. It had been an unavoidable decision.

Cassis kept catching himself listing things to do with her, places to take her. It was hard to believe he’d known Evelyn for less than a week.

Why was that?

He didn’t feel compelled to sate its ravenous desire—the one violently tugging at his trousers—with her. Just watching Evelyn, panting with half-lidded eyes, was enough to keep him enthralled.

“Evelyn.

“……”

Her exhaustion pleased him—lips too spent to even twitch, let alone reply. Cassis knew exactly how depraved his thoughts were, yet he couldn’t shake the thrill of it.

Soon, he gathered her limp body into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Then, for the first time in ages, he sank into deep, untroubled sleep.

It was an intensely satisfying night.

Even though his flesh had found no release.

***

“Ugh…”

The moment Evelyn barely managed to open her eyes, she felt a dull, throbbing pain radiating from her lower back and instinctively curled up beneath the sheets. Was that thing still not over?!

But it was just her imagination. There was no trace of him anywhere in the bedroom. No powerful arms locking her battered body in an embrace, no overwhelming presence probing the most intimate parts of her. Though there was a faint tingling between her thighs, she could still move—just barely—as she clutched her waist and forced herself up.

The moment she realized she was alone, a wave of relief, tinged with something like regret, crept over her. Cassis… was gone. His Majesty the King is always busy, she thought. He must have left again.

‘What’s this?’

Something was placed on the bedside table. Just as she reached out to grab it, the door swung open with a thud, and someone—no, something—strode in.

“Who’s ther… huh?”

Words died in her throat.

As if it were some apostle of light, a pure white horse marched confidently into the bedroom—its only splash of color the vibrant orange of its bright, lively eyes. But something even more unusual immediately caught her attention. Protruding boldly from its forehead was a single, unmistakable horn.

“A—a unicorn?!” she shrieked.

The white horse approached without hesitation, lowering its head to stand before her. Only then did she notice what hung around its neck.

“Oh…”

A floral wreath. The kind of dazzling, resplendent flowers she’d never even glimpsed back in her rural village. They were so breathtaking, her eyes widened in awe.

Can elves really communicate with unicorns? Evelyn hesitated briefly before speaking up in a gentle tone.

“You’re so beautiful. Everything from Jupiter really is different. I’ve hardly ever seen flowers like these in my life.”

Her words were a genuine exclamation of awe, but the white horse shook its head, and in the next instant, a clear voice rang sharply in her mind.

「Take it.」

“Wh… what?!”

「I said take it, little nymph. Don’t make me repeat myself. My neck is heavy—hurry up and take it off.」

Stunned, she repeated the same question.

“Am I really allowed to touch such precious flowers?”

「Making me say it three times—typical scatterbrained nymph. Hurry up!」

“Y-yes!”

Startled by the unicorn’s impatient tone, she hastily reached out and carefully lifted the floral wreath from its neck.

It was truly beautiful, luxurious even. But the surprises didn’t end there. As she held the wreath, the flowers began detaching one by one, floating into the air as if carried by an invisible breeze. The first to take flight—a delicate white blossom—gently nestled itself behind her ear.

“Ah—!”

The rest of the flowers followed as if guided by their own will, each finding its place. Some drifted into an empty vase, others wove themselves into the ties of the terrace curtains, and a few even curled like vines around the handles of the decorative shelves. But most of them flew toward the bed where she had just woken up.

Evelyn watched in astonishment as the wingless flowers took flight. By the time the wreath in her hands was nearly empty, she glanced around. The vibrant blossoms had settled in their chosen spots as if predetermined—light, effortless, almost magical.

Is this… magic?