In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 45
Chapter 45
A soft sucking sound filled the air as he gently drew on the tender flesh below, a sweet apple scent rising along with a ticklish pleasure.
“My,” he murmured, lightly breaking the contact and clicking his tongue. “This is more…” pleasurable than he’d anticipated. What began as playful teasing had ignited a surprisingly primal thrill.
Benedict alternated between the soft mounds a few more times, stopping only when they began to swell.
“My little sl4ve has no patience,” he mused. What use were they if they puffed up like this after just a few kisses? He imagined the rabbit’s startled cry upon seeing its reflection in the spring water the next morning.
It wouldn’t be unpleasant. Watching her fret all night, wondering what had befallen her, would be quite amusing. Yet, the amusement of her complete obliviousness held a unique appeal as well. After a moment of contemplation, Benedict made his choice and rose from the bed. “Sleep well,” he whispered, lightly patting her cheek before leaving for the adjoining room—his own bedchamber. He crossed to a table and opened a small medicine chest, his golden eyes glinting as they scanned the label of a vial. Sleeping draught.
“Such a considerate master, concerned even for his sl4ve’s nightmares,” he chuckled, tossing the vial lightly in the air before catching it. She would sleep soundly tonight.
Several days passed. Hilde, confined to the room next to the Duke’s bedchamber, hadn’t seen Benedict once. While his absence had been understandable before, given his travels, it was strange now that he had returned to the castle.
“Excuse me, do you know where the Master is?” she finally asked a passing maid, only to receive a curt reply about him attending to his duties. Hilde decided to stay awake and wait for him. It wasn’t out of any improper motive.
“At least… I should thank him,” she thought. For tending to her shoulder, for granting her request to spare the servant, for overlooking her disobedience in leaving her room. But despite her best efforts, sleep would inevitably claim her, and she’d wake to find the sun already high in the sky. The late nights only resulted in her oversleeping.
“Does he even come here?” she wondered, feeling as isolated as she had in the carriage on her way to the ducal estate. Any trace of his presence was erased by the other servants who tidied the room before she awoke. “Could I do that? The Master entrusted me with his care…” she suggested.
“The head maid instructed you to focus on your recovery,” came the reply. With nothing to occupy her time, Hilde’s spirits sank. She watched the bustling activity outside the window for a while before sitting with her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest. A listless sigh escaped her lips.
“I just wanted to be useful…” What was she even doing here? Though she hadn’t come to the Bertolph estate of her own free will, nor had she chosen her current predicament, a sense of guilt and inadequacy weighed heavily upon her.
The Duke’s words about useless slaves and his intimidating expression haunted her thoughts. “If I continue to do nothing, and everyone realizes I’m worthless…” Her thoughts spiraled downwards, into a dark and desolate place. “No,” she muttered, forcing herself to break the cycle of negativity. She couldn’t allow herself to succumb to such thoughts. It was a path to self-destruction. Things would get better. They had to.
“I just need to recover quickly and work properly,” she affirmed, trying to bolster her resolve. Just then, a faint rustling sound reached her ears. At first, she dismissed it as the wind, the whisper of leaves, or the brush of curtains against the wall. It was that subtle.
But when the sound came again, Hilde sat up, carefully scanning the room. Her gaze landed on a small, white rabbit huddled on the terrace, trembling. “What’s a rabbit doing here…?”
Fear of being accused of attempting another escape flickered through her, but her hesitation was brief. Opening the door, she scooped up the rabbit without a second thought and carried it inside. Gently placing it on the floor, a gasp of shock escaped her.
“Oh, no…” The rabbit’s underside, hidden before, was covered in blood, as if it had been attacked by a predator. Instinctively, Hilde’s fingertips glowed with a soft, healing light. Stroking the small, warm body as it trembled in pain, she whispered soothingly, “Just a moment. You’ll be alright.”
Moments later, the wounds were completely healed. The rabbit twitched its nose, shifted, and looked up at her. “All better now?”
Hilde smiled, a sense of fulfillment washing over her. In her idleness and despair, she had saved a small life. “Be careful not to get hurt again,” she cautioned. The rabbit nuzzled her hand and licked her fingers in response, widening her smile.
