The Nymph Wants to be Plundered - Chapter 34
Phivi remained haughty to the end, but her tone softened slightly. She didn’t question how Evelyn knew her name unspoken, and the “annoying” remark didn’t sting.
Since she hadn’t outright forbidden conversation, Evelyn resolved to greet her just as warmly next time. She clung to optimism—even if none of this had happened and she’d gotten that gardening job, she’d have faced similar challenges.
The large tray Phivi left was laden with tempting dishes. Fresh fruits, scarce in her village, were here in abundance. Yet the most delicious she’d tasted recently were the wild raspberries Cassis had plucked from a leaf.
Or was it because she’d shared them with him?
Yet despite being in this luxurious bedroom, she found herself unable to eat to satisfaction—for a rather embarrassing reason.
What if… when Cassis and I spend the night together… my stomach bulges from eating too much? How humiliating would that be?
Hng…!
Just the thought of him made her thighs tingle, her body twisting restlessly. Even though it had only happened yesterday, it already felt like a distant memory.
She was lost in a sweet delusion.
If that’s all there is to what men and women do… then it’s bearable. Maybe I could even spend nights with Cassis often.
One thing still nagged at her, though.
Faye had whispered that the sheets might stain red on the first night—yet there had been no such trace. After he left, summoned by someone, she frantically searched, wide-eyed, but found nothing. The crumpled sheets were damp with slickness, but no blood.
Where did it go?
“I-I don’t know. Might as well finish reading this while I have time…”
She had been blinking at the book for a while when, unnoticed, a shadow fell over its pages.
Is it Mel this time? Remembering how overly eager she had been earlier, she lifted her gaze slowly—then froze.
The figure bowing toward her was as tall and broad as a tree, large enough to engulf her entirely without effort.
“You’re here.”
“Why haven’t you eaten anything?”
His voice carried a hint of displeasure as he surveyed the untouched tray. There was no denying it—she hadn’t taken a single bite. Still clutching the book, Evelyn scrambled for an excuse, her mind blank.
“I-I, it’s not that…”
“The sylph I left behind told me everything. That the maids have been treating you coldly—I won’t stand for it.”
“I’m really fine! I—I haven’t been here long, so of course I can’t expect to get close to anyone right away. These things take time…!”
Startled, she scrambled to her feet. She knew all about territorial behavior—hadn’t she steeled herself for it when preparing to work in the gardens? That’s just how people were. In her fluster, the book slipped from her grasp with a dull thud, sending her into a frantic scramble to retrieve it.
Watching her russet hair—still half-untied—swing wildly with each hurried movement, he exhaled sharply.
“Sigh. Evelyn.”
“Yes?”
The way she clutched the fallen book like some irreplaceable treasure irked him inexplicably. What was with her?
He couldn’t pinpoint this stifling, unpleasant emotion. Cassis, who demanded honesty from her yet concealed his own thoughts, spoke with finality.
“From now on, Ruba and the spirits will handle your minor needs. Adjust your expectations accordingly.”
But she barely registered the names, rushing to ask instead—
“Then… will Phivi or Mel still come by…?”
“Occasionally. They move freely within the Hall, so you’ll likely cross paths.” His tone brooked no argument. “Keep that in mind.”
Though it didn’t sit well with him, Cassis couldn’t easily replace those permitted entry to the Hall of Glory. Those four elves had sworn soul-binding oaths to serve the Kingdom of Jupiter, residing and working in the capital—conditions that left no suitable young elves to take their place. He couldn’t exactly tell the elders, “We’re short-handed, so keep an eye on Evelyn for me,” now could he?
Instead, he slid his fingers through her loose hair, smoothing it back in a gesture too fleeting to call a caress. The way Evelyn flushed at even this minimal contact was intoxicating. A thirst he’d suppressed by throwing himself into work now surged up his throat with terrifying intensity.
Had he quickened his steps when nearing her chambers just to see this flustered reaction to his proximity? The thought made him speak impulsively.
“…We didn’t finish yesterday.”
“Pardon?”
Yet the words that should’ve followed—lewd suggestions like Strip completely before me or Shall I undress you myself?—clogged in his throat. Though such phrases tangled wantonly in his mind, none dared cross his lips.
Was this reluctance?
Clenching and unclenching his fist, he finally blurted something he’d never planned to say:
“Remember the nymph we glimpsed at the holy site earlier?”
Evelyn’s response was unexpectedly lively for her age, launching into an animated explanation of what she’d observed.
