Thud.
The sound of the bedroom door closing was quiet and soft, but oppressive. Alfonso put down Ariadne, who was in his arms, and turned her around, holding her by her shoulders.
He held her tightly and looked into her eyes.
“I simply cannot afford to give you a choice like ‘If you don’t like it, tell me now.’”
Alfonso's expression was different than usual. His voice was soft and his manner was slow, but there was no trace of calm. His face was like a blue flame, full of madness.
Clank!
He took off his cloak and threw it into a corner of the room, the shoulder armor attached to it making a rattling sound.
He took a step forward, and Ariadne took a step back.
Alfonso also roughly pulled off the purpoine he was wearing.
The decorative strings that had been tightly woven to cover the front snapped, and the entire garment flowed down his upper body and fell to the floor.
“Alfonso...”
Ariadne recited his name meaninglessly. He was now wearing only a white shirt and trousers.
Alfonso took a step closer to Ariadne, and she tried to take another step back, tripped on something, and fell to the ground. It was a bed.
Buried between the rich feather quilt and white bedspread, she looked up at him.
“Alfonso, I...”
Her words were cut off by his kiss.
"Uh."
It was a less urgent kiss than the one before, but it was still thick, persistent, and showed no intention of letting go. Alfonso put his weight on her.
The soft bed sank deep into her, unable to support her weight. With the pillow against her back, she received his kiss in a position that was neither lying down nor sitting.
His thick hands went to her waist. The partlet-like tatters were beyond his attention. He unfastened the buttons that held the studlock in place, one by one, from the bottom up.
“Ugh, ugh...”
The deep, dense kiss made her breath hard. She lifted her chest up and down to catch her breath.
At the same time that Alfonso unbuttoned the top button of the stud jacket, Ariadne's luscious upper body was freed.
"Ha-."
"Ha."
Ariadne took a deep breath for air, and Alfonso let out a short exclamation at the same time.
The whites of the man's eyes sparkled. Ariadne held onto Alfonso's arm and pleaded during this brief pause.
“Alfonso, reed grass, reed grass at least.”
Reed grass was a herb that, when chewed, was said to help prevent pregnancy. It was easy to obtain, although its overt trade was illegal.
Because it has been a favorite item of everyone since ancient times, from women doing odd jobs in the market to Queens of countries.
"Shhh."
He buried his lips in the nape of her neck. She moaned excitedly and twisted her upper body.
Reed grass? That's ridiculous.
Alfonso was determined to keep Ariadne tied up forever today. By his side, unable to go anywhere.
“Shh. Good job.”
His hands dug somewhere between the layers of cloth.
Ariadne crouched and shivered as if she had been burned. It was truly an intense sensation, one she had never felt before in her past life.
“Alfonso, Alfonso.”
She pleaded. She had been crossing her legs for a long time. Her skirt was riding up along with her petticoat, revealing her white thighs.
But she did not know what she was begging for.
She thought she was asking him not to do it, but if Alfonso really stopped... She would definitely burst into tears.
Alfonso raised his head at Ariadne's plea and bit the tip of her finger. The silk glove on his intact right hand was lifted up and taken off.
“Ari. You really...”
Ariadne, with her disheveled appearance, was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen in his life, more beautiful than any painting or statue.
It was so subjective and objective. He could not help but be amazed when he saw with his naked eyes the dense beauty that seemed ready to burst.
“It’s so crazy beautiful.”
He pushed the silk glove on her right hand away with his toes, which he had taken off and thrown under the bed. Alfonso whispered, brushing Ariadne's fingertips with his lips.
“Don’t cover your pretty hands, and don’t wear things like that in front of me. It’s uncomfortable. There’s no scar on your right hand.”
Ariadne, who was in a daze and confused, heard those words, and after about three seconds, she felt the blood in her body run cold.
“Scars...?”
She held out her right hand in front of Alfonso's eyes.
“This is... Can you see it?”
Alfonso looked at Ariadne as if he were dumbfounded, then put his lips on her right hand again.
“What are you talking about? There’s nothing there. It’s your left hand that hurts.”
She looked down at her left hand, pale and pale. From fingertips to elbow, it was as red as if it had been dipped in the blood of a freshly slaughtered cow.
Today, she threw her gloves somewhere in the grass. That is, from the beginning when she met Alfonso, her hands were not wearing any gloves.
Ariadne felt as if all the blood had drained from her body. She sat up straight.
“You see this? You’ve been seeing it all along? From the forest?”
At the woman's sudden change, Alfonso also raised his head which he had been burying. Ariadne cried.
“But why didn’t you say anything! But why didn’t you say anything?”
Her voice rose to the level of a scream. Alfonso grabbed her wrist.
“Let go of my hand!”
Ariadne pushed away Alfonso's hand, but his lips touched her fingers first. This time it was her left hand.
“It’s not dirty?”
Ariadne pulled back once more and screamed in shock.
It's gone now, but it was once a handful of pus and scabs. It was all her own doing.
“You see all of this? I... I... This...”
Tears welled up in her big green eyes. Grandma... Grandma... You said it would be okay for a month...
“I... I.”
Alfonso looked at her intently, refusing any touch.
“I feel like an idiot...”
No, strictly speaking, it was actually Alfonso who became the fool.
Ariadne was nothing more than a ridiculous fraud trying to get the position of his Princess.
How could a woman with neither status nor body be able to dare to aim for the Prince's side? She was in a position where she couldn't even walk around the palace bare-handed.
Tears fell from Ariadne's eyes as she realized objectively what she had been trying to do.
“I... I didn’t mean to...”
She didn't mean to scam him. She thought she was made whole by the help of witchcraft.
Ariadne, too, had a brief illusion that if she looked at this poor country with the most biased lens, she might be worthy of sitting next to him.
She didn't know where to start explaining, or if she could even explain it. Ariadne was in a miserable state of mind.
“I am a dirty woman... An imperfect woman... Not in body, not in mind... Not qualified to stand here...”
Ariadne should have kept her knightly oath to him. The best she could give him was loyalty, not love.
She stood on both feet, covered her left arm with her right hand, and wept endlessly. With her snow-white skin, her ebony hair, and the red stigma of sin intersecting, she wept endlessly.
Alfonso's silence seemed to kill her.
Alfonso, who had been looking at her in silence for a very long time, suddenly turned his white shirt inside out and took it off.
His angry abs and obliques flexed with the movement of his upper body. But it was something else that caught Ariadne's attention.
“Alfonso, that is...?”
The Prince's stomach was covered in a horrible scar that resembled a giant snake.
The scar, which was definitely a stab wound, started a little below his navel, went around his side, past his buttocks, and down to his thigh. Alfonso asked calmly.
“Am I dirty?”
Ariadne was strongly discouraged.
“No, no, absolutely not...”
He took her left hand and placed it on his abdominal wound. The woman's blood-red right hand was placed on the man's scar which was raised red and had healed.
“If there is an unwritten rule that says you can’t be in the palace if you show your physical ugliness, then I have to leave, too. I’m the same.”
He guided Ariadne's hand along the trajectory of the scar. This scar was inflicted by an ally who had sneaked into the barracks during the early stages of the Yesak War.
The assassin, who was on the side of the County of Achenbach, seemed to have wanted to kill the Prince as he was losing more and more credits to his men.
The true intentions and the culprit were never revealed.
No matter how be look at it looks, it was the work of one of the vassals under the Archduke of Yuldenburg, but Alfonso, who was relying on the Archduke for everything at the time, could not openly protest to the Archduke.
The assassin raised his longsword high and plunged it into the sleeping Prince's abdomen, and Alfonso opened his eyes at the last moment and rolled to the side, saving his life.
Then, Sir Elko, who had been sleeping beside the Prince's tent, ran in hastily and killed the assassin with his one-armed, precarious weapon.
“Prince!”
It was an absolute secret that the Prince had been attacked, because if Alfonso fell, everyone would fall.
All the orders were given to Sir Elko, who had been appointed as a knight and therefore did not need to be attended to by others, so he hid and listened quietly.
From that time on, Sir Elko became Alfonso's irreplaceable confidant.
But that was all in the past. Alfonso let out a sigh from deep within his stomach as he looked at Ariadne's small hand caressing his stomach.
He gave up everything for this woman. It was probably the moment he cut off Sir Elko's neck.
Of course, material things like a throne, but also more lofty values like past relationships, friendships, guilt, and regret.
Now this woman was everything he had. So he wanted to be the world to her, too.
Her small hands caressed the scar on his lower abdomen, then followed the path that had already formed towards his iliac bone.
“Phew.”
Alfonso's breathing became more labored. Whether he knew it or not, Ariadne's hand traced further down the scar.
The dull pain in his lower abdomen was definitely not due to old scars.
"Ari."
Alfonso grabbed Ariadne's shoulders.
“I don’t care what state you are in. Whether your hands are red or you have none, whether you are a Countess, a Princess, or a Moorish slave, it really doesn’t matter to me.”
It didn't matter if she had a past fiancé, how far they went together, or even if she had a child or if she were a murderer.
The important thing was that she was in front of him, and their body temperatures were connected.
Alfonso brought his bloodshot, blue-gray eyes very close to Ariadne's face and asked.
“Do you trust me?”
She raised her face and looked at Alfonso's. Ariadne nodded vigorously with tearful eyes.
“...Yeah.”
It was a thin but firm affirmation.
Alfonso nodded and grabbed Ariadne's shoulders, pushing her onto the bed. Ariadne complied.
There were so many things he had to say and wanted to say. Like, 'It's going to hurt,' or, 'Aren't you scared?' or, 'Trust me,' or, 'Isn't that enough?'
But in the end, Alfonso whispered only one word.
"I love you."
More than anyone else in the world, including me. At those words, the curtain of the primeval forest that had never been invaded was torn.
And a new world opened up.
The sound of the bedroom door closing was quiet and soft, but oppressive. Alfonso put down Ariadne, who was in his arms, and turned her around, holding her by her shoulders.
He held her tightly and looked into her eyes.
“I simply cannot afford to give you a choice like ‘If you don’t like it, tell me now.’”
Alfonso's expression was different than usual. His voice was soft and his manner was slow, but there was no trace of calm. His face was like a blue flame, full of madness.
Clank!
He took off his cloak and threw it into a corner of the room, the shoulder armor attached to it making a rattling sound.
He took a step forward, and Ariadne took a step back.
Alfonso also roughly pulled off the purpoine he was wearing.
The decorative strings that had been tightly woven to cover the front snapped, and the entire garment flowed down his upper body and fell to the floor.
“Alfonso...”
Ariadne recited his name meaninglessly. He was now wearing only a white shirt and trousers.
Alfonso took a step closer to Ariadne, and she tried to take another step back, tripped on something, and fell to the ground. It was a bed.
Buried between the rich feather quilt and white bedspread, she looked up at him.
“Alfonso, I...”
Her words were cut off by his kiss.
"Uh."
It was a less urgent kiss than the one before, but it was still thick, persistent, and showed no intention of letting go. Alfonso put his weight on her.
The soft bed sank deep into her, unable to support her weight. With the pillow against her back, she received his kiss in a position that was neither lying down nor sitting.
His thick hands went to her waist. The partlet-like tatters were beyond his attention. He unfastened the buttons that held the studlock in place, one by one, from the bottom up.
“Ugh, ugh...”
The deep, dense kiss made her breath hard. She lifted her chest up and down to catch her breath.
At the same time that Alfonso unbuttoned the top button of the stud jacket, Ariadne's luscious upper body was freed.
"Ha-."
"Ha."
Ariadne took a deep breath for air, and Alfonso let out a short exclamation at the same time.
The whites of the man's eyes sparkled. Ariadne held onto Alfonso's arm and pleaded during this brief pause.
“Alfonso, reed grass, reed grass at least.”
Reed grass was a herb that, when chewed, was said to help prevent pregnancy. It was easy to obtain, although its overt trade was illegal.
Because it has been a favorite item of everyone since ancient times, from women doing odd jobs in the market to Queens of countries.
"Shhh."
He buried his lips in the nape of her neck. She moaned excitedly and twisted her upper body.
Reed grass? That's ridiculous.
Alfonso was determined to keep Ariadne tied up forever today. By his side, unable to go anywhere.
“Shh. Good job.”
His hands dug somewhere between the layers of cloth.
Ariadne crouched and shivered as if she had been burned. It was truly an intense sensation, one she had never felt before in her past life.
“Alfonso, Alfonso.”
She pleaded. She had been crossing her legs for a long time. Her skirt was riding up along with her petticoat, revealing her white thighs.
But she did not know what she was begging for.
She thought she was asking him not to do it, but if Alfonso really stopped... She would definitely burst into tears.
Alfonso raised his head at Ariadne's plea and bit the tip of her finger. The silk glove on his intact right hand was lifted up and taken off.
“Ari. You really...”
Ariadne, with her disheveled appearance, was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen in his life, more beautiful than any painting or statue.
It was so subjective and objective. He could not help but be amazed when he saw with his naked eyes the dense beauty that seemed ready to burst.
“It’s so crazy beautiful.”
He pushed the silk glove on her right hand away with his toes, which he had taken off and thrown under the bed. Alfonso whispered, brushing Ariadne's fingertips with his lips.
“Don’t cover your pretty hands, and don’t wear things like that in front of me. It’s uncomfortable. There’s no scar on your right hand.”
Ariadne, who was in a daze and confused, heard those words, and after about three seconds, she felt the blood in her body run cold.
“Scars...?”
She held out her right hand in front of Alfonso's eyes.
“This is... Can you see it?”
Alfonso looked at Ariadne as if he were dumbfounded, then put his lips on her right hand again.
“What are you talking about? There’s nothing there. It’s your left hand that hurts.”
She looked down at her left hand, pale and pale. From fingertips to elbow, it was as red as if it had been dipped in the blood of a freshly slaughtered cow.
Today, she threw her gloves somewhere in the grass. That is, from the beginning when she met Alfonso, her hands were not wearing any gloves.
Ariadne felt as if all the blood had drained from her body. She sat up straight.
“You see this? You’ve been seeing it all along? From the forest?”
At the woman's sudden change, Alfonso also raised his head which he had been burying. Ariadne cried.
“But why didn’t you say anything! But why didn’t you say anything?”
Her voice rose to the level of a scream. Alfonso grabbed her wrist.
“Let go of my hand!”
Ariadne pushed away Alfonso's hand, but his lips touched her fingers first. This time it was her left hand.
“It’s not dirty?”
Ariadne pulled back once more and screamed in shock.
It's gone now, but it was once a handful of pus and scabs. It was all her own doing.
“You see all of this? I... I... This...”
Tears welled up in her big green eyes. Grandma... Grandma... You said it would be okay for a month...
“I... I.”
Alfonso looked at her intently, refusing any touch.
“I feel like an idiot...”
No, strictly speaking, it was actually Alfonso who became the fool.
Ariadne was nothing more than a ridiculous fraud trying to get the position of his Princess.
How could a woman with neither status nor body be able to dare to aim for the Prince's side? She was in a position where she couldn't even walk around the palace bare-handed.
Tears fell from Ariadne's eyes as she realized objectively what she had been trying to do.
“I... I didn’t mean to...”
She didn't mean to scam him. She thought she was made whole by the help of witchcraft.
Ariadne, too, had a brief illusion that if she looked at this poor country with the most biased lens, she might be worthy of sitting next to him.
She didn't know where to start explaining, or if she could even explain it. Ariadne was in a miserable state of mind.
“I am a dirty woman... An imperfect woman... Not in body, not in mind... Not qualified to stand here...”
Ariadne should have kept her knightly oath to him. The best she could give him was loyalty, not love.
She stood on both feet, covered her left arm with her right hand, and wept endlessly. With her snow-white skin, her ebony hair, and the red stigma of sin intersecting, she wept endlessly.
Alfonso's silence seemed to kill her.
Alfonso, who had been looking at her in silence for a very long time, suddenly turned his white shirt inside out and took it off.
His angry abs and obliques flexed with the movement of his upper body. But it was something else that caught Ariadne's attention.
“Alfonso, that is...?”
The Prince's stomach was covered in a horrible scar that resembled a giant snake.
The scar, which was definitely a stab wound, started a little below his navel, went around his side, past his buttocks, and down to his thigh. Alfonso asked calmly.
“Am I dirty?”
Ariadne was strongly discouraged.
“No, no, absolutely not...”
He took her left hand and placed it on his abdominal wound. The woman's blood-red right hand was placed on the man's scar which was raised red and had healed.
“If there is an unwritten rule that says you can’t be in the palace if you show your physical ugliness, then I have to leave, too. I’m the same.”
He guided Ariadne's hand along the trajectory of the scar. This scar was inflicted by an ally who had sneaked into the barracks during the early stages of the Yesak War.
The assassin, who was on the side of the County of Achenbach, seemed to have wanted to kill the Prince as he was losing more and more credits to his men.
The true intentions and the culprit were never revealed.
No matter how be look at it looks, it was the work of one of the vassals under the Archduke of Yuldenburg, but Alfonso, who was relying on the Archduke for everything at the time, could not openly protest to the Archduke.
The assassin raised his longsword high and plunged it into the sleeping Prince's abdomen, and Alfonso opened his eyes at the last moment and rolled to the side, saving his life.
Then, Sir Elko, who had been sleeping beside the Prince's tent, ran in hastily and killed the assassin with his one-armed, precarious weapon.
“Prince!”
It was an absolute secret that the Prince had been attacked, because if Alfonso fell, everyone would fall.
All the orders were given to Sir Elko, who had been appointed as a knight and therefore did not need to be attended to by others, so he hid and listened quietly.
From that time on, Sir Elko became Alfonso's irreplaceable confidant.
But that was all in the past. Alfonso let out a sigh from deep within his stomach as he looked at Ariadne's small hand caressing his stomach.
He gave up everything for this woman. It was probably the moment he cut off Sir Elko's neck.
Of course, material things like a throne, but also more lofty values like past relationships, friendships, guilt, and regret.
Now this woman was everything he had. So he wanted to be the world to her, too.
Her small hands caressed the scar on his lower abdomen, then followed the path that had already formed towards his iliac bone.
“Phew.”
Alfonso's breathing became more labored. Whether he knew it or not, Ariadne's hand traced further down the scar.
The dull pain in his lower abdomen was definitely not due to old scars.
"Ari."
Alfonso grabbed Ariadne's shoulders.
“I don’t care what state you are in. Whether your hands are red or you have none, whether you are a Countess, a Princess, or a Moorish slave, it really doesn’t matter to me.”
It didn't matter if she had a past fiancé, how far they went together, or even if she had a child or if she were a murderer.
The important thing was that she was in front of him, and their body temperatures were connected.
Alfonso brought his bloodshot, blue-gray eyes very close to Ariadne's face and asked.
“Do you trust me?”
She raised her face and looked at Alfonso's. Ariadne nodded vigorously with tearful eyes.
“...Yeah.”
It was a thin but firm affirmation.
Alfonso nodded and grabbed Ariadne's shoulders, pushing her onto the bed. Ariadne complied.
There were so many things he had to say and wanted to say. Like, 'It's going to hurt,' or, 'Aren't you scared?' or, 'Trust me,' or, 'Isn't that enough?'
But in the end, Alfonso whispered only one word.
"I love you."
More than anyone else in the world, including me. At those words, the curtain of the primeval forest that had never been invaded was torn.
And a new world opened up.
Oh please... I need a smut version of this scene 😭😭
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