In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 28
Chapter 28
“Do you think that will suffice?” The cryptic question widened her eyes. His sneering face was reflected in their pink depths. “Since we’re here…”
As her eyes wavered, his thumb pressed against her bottom lip, parting them. A long index and middle finger slipped inside, grazing her teeth before finding the soft flesh within.
“Yes, this tongue.”
“Nngh!”
“Use it diligently.”
Just two fingers, yet the foreign intrusion made her tremble. “Make a proper attempt.”
After a cursory swipe and a few prods, Benedict abruptly withdrew his fingers.
“Ha… ha…”
Gasping, she sucked in air as if she’d run a race. Catching her breath, she looked at the soiled trousers. The white stain stood out starkly against the black fabric.
“Clean it.”
“Yes…”
A strange shame heated her cheeks. Humiliation, unfamiliar and unexpected. She was accustomed to insults and disdain, so why should this simple command affect her so?
“It’s going to dry,” he pressed, his impatience clear.
“I’ll… I’ll do it now.” She grabbed the napkin she’d seen earlier, dampening it slightly. Then, on her knees, she crawled between his legs. Her fingers, clutching the damp cloth, touched the tightly woven fabric.
She meticulously dabbed at the stain, her movements as cautious as a rabbit lapping at a spring. Starting at his knee, she slowly worked her way upwards.
Focused on cleaning the stain, she failed to notice the fabric stretching taut against his thigh, or the growing presence beneath. Just as her hand reached the beginning of the bulge, her neck was seized again.
Her head snapped up to meet the furious face of the Grand Duke. His expression was one of intense displeasure. He looked as though he might strangle her, or worse, break her neck. The chilling air crackled with menace, and her wide eyes trembled.
‘It was fine just a moment ago…’
She had thought so. She’d made a mistake, but she’d been given a chance to redeem herself.
“By a mere slave…” he growled, his golden eyes blazing. They held a predatory gleam, as if he might devour her whole. Her heart constricted in fear.
‘Have I done something wrong again?’
Her thin shoulders slumped. Summoning what little courage she had left, she whispered, “Should I… be gentler?”
Unsure of her transgression, she pleaded, her only desire to appease him. But as a cruel smile spread across Benedict’s lips, her fragile hope withered. “Utterly useless as a servant.”
She hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t claimed she could do it, yet she remained silent, terrified by his voice and his ferocious aura. She feared the tightening grip on her neck.
His earlier threat about the short lifespan of slaves echoed in her mind.
‘I have to live… I have to survive…’ The words “Forgive me” were trapped in her throat by fear.
A clear chime rang out. Benedict had summoned the servants. Alois, waiting anxiously outside, immediately opened the door. “Your Grave, you called…?” The old butler’s words died in his throat.
He took in the scattered silver, the spilled stew, the stained trousers, and the disheveled slave girl, his eyes widening in surprise. He dared not ask what had transpired; the Grand Duke’s aura was too volatile.
He resembled a predator, exhilarated by a recent kill. Even Greta was cautious in such moments. Experience dictated that he wait for his master’s command.
“Clean this up,” the Grand Duke ordered, releasing the girl so abruptly that her small frame was flung to the side.
“Yes, Your Grace.” Alois understood that the mess wasn’t confined to the floor and the spilled food. At his signal, two maids rushed forward, lifting Hilde to her feet and dragging her, trembling, from the room.
