In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 53
Chapter 53
“It’s okay,” she murmured, forcing a smile. It always made her feel a little better.
“Happiness only comes to those who strive for it,” she remembered the words of the priest who visited the slums once a year, spoken as she returned from the washing place. She wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“I just have to try again.”
She wouldn’t allow herself any more foolish hopes. She wouldn’t forget her place, wouldn’t overstep as a slave. And if he wanted her body…
“You mean to give yourself to me, body and soul, for my pleasure?”
The image of him in the bathroom flashed in her mind. His cold, burning golden eyes. The tightening grip of his arm. His sizzling voice. “Consider yourself fortunate.”
“You’ll be begging for mercy before the night is through.”
Raw lvst had radiated from his gaze. She couldn’t deny the fear. It was the first time anyone had looked at her that way. For a moment, she’d wanted to run. But it wasn’t the same terror she’d felt when that nameless count had nearly assaulted her. It was… different.
Hilde clenched her skirt, aware of the dampness between her legs.
“Perhaps…” she whispered, the words escaping like a sigh. “…perhaps this is for the best.”
Her divine power didn’t seem to matter much to him. She was clumsy, inept at serving him, and she’d already angered him countless times. If she could at least hold his interest with her body… maybe she could survive here, as a bed slave, for a little while longer.
“The head maid never said what would happen if I couldn’t serve the master.”
With no real skills beyond menial chores, she wouldn’t last long in this grand duchy. She’d be sold off, cast aside, her current comfort replaced by unimaginable hardship and suffering.
“…It’s better this way.”
Hilde rationalized, a deep resignation settling over her. He needed a toy, a plaything to amuse himself with until he grew tired of her. Another pang of pain shot through her heart, but she brushed it aside. It was manageable. Burying her sorrow was something Hilde had become very good at.
“I shouldn’t be…,” she started, realizing her master would be finished with his bath soon. She had to prepare. With effort, she pushed herself to her feet, the weakness making it a struggle. “I need to get the teacups…” Hilde opened the door and stepped out, a single tear, unnoticed, tracing a path down her cheek and falling to the floor.
Benedict had just stepped out of the bath and into his bedroom when he saw a small figure bustling around the sofa table. “What are you doing?”
Startled, Hilde turned, revealing the table to his view. A teapot, teacups, a silver tray, a small canister of tea leaves. “I, I heard you take tea after your bath.”
It was true. But Benedict’s eyes narrowed, something catching his attention. He crossed the room in long strides. “Master…?” Hilde instinctively backed away, her momentum carrying her onto the sofa. Benedict braced one hand on the back of the sofa and used the other to lift her chin. “Have you been crying?”
Hilde’s wide, innocent eyes widened further, like a startled rabbit. They glistened with unshed tears, shimmering like pink jewels. “I asked you a question.”
He held her gaze captive, refusing to let her look away. Finally, her small lips parted.
“A, a little…”
“A little?” He echoed her words, incredulous. Hilde fidgeted, avoiding his eyes. The skin around her eyes was red and puffy. Her voice, usually clear, was thick with unshed tears.
“Why?” he asked, his voice low and subdued. Benedict’s mood had darkened. He knew her tears were connected to him, to what had just transpired between them.
