The bitter aroma of medicine emanated from Rezette’s figure. Elise, however, had come to realize that tranquilizers were futile in curbing a dragon’s carnal urges. As he guided her to the bed, she resisted, asserting her independence.
“I can dress myself, I even need to put on underwear,” she insisted.
“No need for you to handle it alone. If you remain still, I’ll take care of everything,” he replied.
“Why insist on doing it yourself? We have Ivetsa for this!” Elise tightened the towel around her, eyeing him warily. She wasn’t keen on another attempt to lay her down.
“The contract didn’t specify these duties, especially during my period. It’s an ‘unavoidable circumstance’ where intimacy is impossible,” Elise reasoned.
“I’m not suggesting a repeat. Just a quick check and assistance with your clothes. The doctor’s ointment needs applying,” Rezette explained.
“What’s there to check? I can apply the ointment myself,” she retorted.
Observing Elise’s skittish demeanor, Rezette chuckled dryly. Despite her initial fuss over covering herself, her regained composure only heightened her charm. Though her triangular-eyed expression was captivating, certain tasks needed attention.
“If you’re hesitant to reveal your body like this, what gave you the confidence to persistently pursue me?” Rezette inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“I’ve mentioned it before, but what I envisioned was never like this. It wasn’t meant to be so primal,” Elise admitted.
“What did you expect from a dragon then?” he questioned. She was left without a response as Rezette, with a chuckle, deftly removed her towel. Elise struggled to catch her breath as he applied ointment to the marks on her body from the fire.
“Originally, you were the one who seduced me. It all began on the road to the capital. Didn’t you believe you had achieved what you desired?” Rezette arched an eyebrow.
“When did I… ah.” Elise’s expression tightened as she recalled the memory. It pointed to the day she was captured by the Van Yela army and brought to the capital, an event that unfolded by the lakeside. It was a day marked by both misery and hope, where Elise faced the ordeal of undressing in front of a man for the first time—a memory not as light as blushing to the point of turning her face red.
“…Desperation can overshadow pride,” she muttered, almost inaudibly.
“And what about now?” Rezette set down the ointment, staring at her intently.
“What?”
“Aren’t you desperate enough now?”
She sensed the importance of her response, understanding that it could pave the way for a more comfortable night after the menstruation ended and possibly offer an escape from Rotiara. Elise, grappling with a mix of truth and falsehood, bit her lip.
“I’m desperate to the point of not wanting to die,” she replied.
“To the point of not wanting to die,” Rezette echoed.
“No one else matters to me. You’ve witnessed what becomes of me when you’re not around. And Lady Genovia Irrien’s situation is quite similar.” It suddenly struck Elise that she hadn’t considered what happened to Genovia Irrien until now.
Did she die?
Elise didn’t feel a significant sense of pity, whether Genovia Irrien lived or died. Over nearly twenty days, she had endured enough from that woman, receiving compensation in the form of clues about Argan, Bellator, and Duke Conrad’s fate.
Nevertheless, a lingering curiosity persisted. What had Genovia Irrien truly desired from her? On the night Elise escorted her in the carriage to the castle, the woman had acted as if she had completely abandoned her original goal of making Elise a sacrificial lamb. In fits of anger, she erupted multiple times, seemingly forgetting Elise’s presence.
“Love, love, he says. Is it a joke? You made me like this. You made it so that I can never trust any man for the rest of my life…!”
The vivid image of the deep scars on her face at that moment lingered in Elise’s memory. Could unfulfilled desires transform a person into such malice?
“I’m not asking you to beat yourself up,” Rezette interjected with an uneasy tone. Elise, snapping out of her thoughts, shook her head and regained her composure.
“It’s not beating myself up; it’s facing reality. I can’t do anything without you,” she admitted. Even escaping from the top of the tower seemed impossible at the moment. Elise reflected that if Genovia hadn’t verbally attacked her with thorns, she might have already succumbed to Rotiara under Rezette’s influence. Grateful for that one restraint, Elise had now returned to the original path she was supposed to take.
There’s something I need to confirm, she resolved. Over the past three days, amid the slow return of her consciousness after being severed, Elise had experienced several fragmented dreams. Amidst the haze, Andrei’s voice resonated clearly.
“Wait until autumn… Bellator… Send a messenger to Barnon… North of the Tene River, send scouts…”
