48. I don't think we can do it
After a moment's hesitation, Erna brought the glass she held with both hands to her lips. If she couldn't avoid it anyway, she figured it might be better to borrow some intoxication. She simply couldn't handle such a thing with a clear mind.
Erna slowly but faithfully emptied her glass, sip after sip. It was stronger than she'd expected, but the sweet flavor made it easy to drink.
Be happy.
As she recalled her grandmother's earnest wish, the trembling in her fingertips stopped.
Erna knew better than anyone that the proposal wasn't motivated by love. She even considered it a feeling of pity for the woman in distress, or perhaps a sense of responsibility, but that didn't feel entirely plausible either.
For some unknown reason, Bjorn proposed, and Erna accepted.
That was the best path. That fact hasn't changed much even now. Therefore, Erna wanted to strive. Even if it wasn't love, she wanted to be his best. So they could be happy together for a long time.
As a fever began to spread across her cheeks, Erna glanced up. Bjorn was still there, watching her.
Erna, who had been looking back and forth between the fate she was destined to love and the half-empty glass of wine, took a deep breath with a determined expression. Then she took another sip. It was then that Bjorn's hand suddenly reached out and touched her glass.
Bjorn took the glass from the bewildered Erna and brought it to his lips. The sound of the glass being emptied in one gulp and set down on the side table echoed clearly through the silence.
"...Thank you."
Erna cautiously broke the silence. It seemed a bit of a funny greeting, but she couldn't quite think of anything else to say. More importantly, it was Erna's true feelings.
Bjorn let out a hollow laugh and climbed onto the bed without much haste. Erna flinched, but she no longer fled in fear.
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly, smiled and kissed her, this time a little more gently and slowly. Perhaps because the intoxication was starting to take hold, Erna became much more docile. Even as he lay her down on the bed, snatched away her gown, and traced her neck, shoulders, and chest with his lips, Erna endured his touch with utmost obedience.
“Erna.”
Bjorn called his wife's name with a laugh. Erna, who had been lying there, gasping for breath, as if dead, finally opened her eyes.
“Open your eyes, Erna.”
“Is that how it should be?”
"Yes."
Bjorn lifted the hand he had been kneading from his wife's chest and cupped her cheek. He'd thought it would be enough if she didn't whimper and irritate his nerves, but seeing her slump like a corpse was utterly unsettling.
Facing Erna, who was gazing at him, Bjorn untied the laces of his gown. Erna, holding her breath for a moment, turned her head with a serious expression, as if she had seen something she shouldn't have.
“You have to see me.”
Bjorn tightened his grip and brought Erna's gaze back to him.
“If you do this, Erna, it makes me feel dirty because it feels like I’m hugging a woman who’s always thinking about another guy.”
“That’s not it!”
Erna screamed in anger. She was struck by a sense of utter disorientation as she inadvertently glanced at his bare chest, but she didn't close her eyes again.
“Really, what you are saying is unbearably insulting.”
Erna met Bjorn's face with wide eyes. Her gaze was sharp, as if asserting her innocence.
He swallowed the lips that were about to murmur something again, then firmly spread Erna's legs apart and wet her insides. He thrust deeper and deeper, his thrusts becoming more intense as he continued, but Bjorn had no intention of delaying any longer. From below, where he had already been hardened, he now felt a heat that bordered on dull pain. By the time he'd decided enough was enough, even Bjorn's breathing was no longer peaceful.
Bjorn sat up and positioned himself between Erna's legs.
Erna gazed at her husband, her eyes clouded by the drowsy heat and intoxication. Even as she exhaled heavily, her face remained calm, and she felt a sense of shame. She lowered her gaze, and the sight of his straight collarbone and shoulders caught her eye. The harmony of his strong frame and delicate muscles was truly magnificent.
With eyes filled with the curiosity of a child discovering a new object, Erna carefully examined her husband's body. Consciousness returned only after her gaze drifted down to below his waist.
"Ah..."
Erna, blinking her wide-eyed eyes, sighed involuntarily. She clearly saw it, but couldn't quite believe it. She stared at the walls and ceiling in the darkness, pondering it over and over again.
No way.
Erna, having reached the conclusion that her memory was invalid, turned her frowning eyes back to her husband. But nothing had changed.
“I don’t think we can do it.”
Erna looked at Bjorn's face with a sad expression. It was a serious concern, but Bjorn burst into laughter.
“Thank you, my wife.”
Wrapping her thinner legs around his waist, Bjorn gave an elegant greeting, imitating his wife.
“That’s quite a touching compliment.”
Bjorn immediately subdued Erna, who had begun to struggle, and pressed his lower abdomen against hers. Erna's eyes widened at the unfamiliar sensation of his body touching her, something she hadn't even known about. It was a rather cute expression, but Bjorn didn't have the luxury of enjoying it. Without further delay, he thrust in with all his might.
“Stay still, Erna.”
He gave a command mixed with a rough groan to Erna, who was squirming in fear. Bjorn's forehead furrowed. She was sufficiently wet, but her position was too narrow. Furthermore, she was so terrified that she was stiff, making it even more difficult.
“Bjorn, ah... I don’t think that’ll work.”
Erna, who had been running wildly, started to cry again.
“Stay still.”
Bjorn let out a deep sigh and leaned over Erna, who was trembling, covering her quivering lips with his own. Consideration was the luxury of the wealthy. He was already on the verge of madness.
Bjorn pulled back slightly and thrust in harder. But he wasn't even halfway there. Unaware of this, he continued to thrust. With each contraction of the woman's tight embrace, Bjorn's breathing grew increasingly ragged.
"It's okay."
Bjorn placed tender kisses on Erna's cheek and lips as she sobbed, gradually deepening their bond. The sweat that had been clinging to his nose trickled down onto Erna's panting lips.
“It’s okay now.”
He looked into her tear-filled blue eyes and whispered sweetly. Of course, it was a lie. But the lie seemed to be having some effect, as he felt the tension inside her gradually relax.
Without missing a beat, Bjorn plunged deep into her in one breath. Erna's screams and his own rough groans erupted simultaneously.
“Stop it. Stop it now.”
Erna, holding his shoulder with trembling hands, pleaded with him in tears.
Bjorn, who had been looking at his wife with a face that no longer smiled, slowly backed away and responded by thrusting his hips with all his might. Erna groaned in pain, but his patience, which was not particularly deep, had already worn thin.
“It hurts! Bjorn, please.”
Erna pleaded, but Bjorn ignored her and began to move at a faster pace. The sound of Erna's sobs blending into the sloshing sound wasn't so bad. No, it was thrilling. She seemed to be sucking him in with her entire body.
Bjorn's movements, pushing his waist up, were now beyond the control of reason.
Red, petal-like blood began to spread across Erna's lace nightgown, as well as his groin. Bjorn readily admitted that this, too, was quite a stimulating pleasure. As the moisture spread through her, gradually softening her insides, the initially suffocating tightness became a maddening pleasure.
When he first opened the bedroom door, he thought it was his duty, now that he was married. He also felt a sense of kindness toward his bride, who had been shyly peeking at him all day.
But damn it, it's he who's going crazy.
Bjorn lowered his gaze to see Erna, who was accepting him. Erna swayed helplessly as he moved. Her face was beautiful as she groaned, trying not to close her eyes.
“It’s okay, Erna.”
Bjorn brushed Erna's sweaty hair away and told another affectionate lie.
Erna nodded, knowing she was being deceived. Bjorn smiled, perhaps pleased by the answer. Suddenly, a story she'd heard from her grandmother as a child—that the devil tempts with the most beautiful face—came to mind.
Burying his face in Erna's neck, he began to move fiercely again. A bestial breathing noise filled her ears, and her body shook so violently that it was difficult to regain consciousness.
Erna, at a loss, burst into tears, unable to hold back any longer. The pain beneath his thrusts, as if crushed, made it difficult to breathe. It was a pain accompanied by a tingling, burning sensation, indescribable. "Thud." The humiliating sound of wet skin scraping against wet flesh further clouded Erna's consciousness.
Erna now began to sob, but Bjorn sat up straight, paying no attention. Her small face, drenched in sweat and tears, was all the more pitiful and beautiful.
Bjorn began to arch his back, looking down at his bride, who had become his. A thick breath and a moan escaped his lips, a satisfied smile on his face. It wasn't just her silky skin that was insanely smooth and soft. The woman's insides, squeezing and enveloping him, were like a slurry of pleasure.
Holding his wife, who was wailing in agony, tightly, Bjorn thrust himself deep inside her. Her small body, which had trembled as if startled by the hot eruption, soon sagged limply. The sound of their heavy breathing drifted through the suddenly settled silence.
Even as his breathing slowed and his body's heat cooled, Bjorn remained inside his wife. Erna, who looked at him with a soft sob, her eyes bloodshot.
“Is it all over now?”
After moving her lips several times, Erna finally asked a cautious question.
Bjorn, who was resting his forehead against his wife's, kissed her cute nose as if praising her for being a good child.
"Yes."
This time, Bjorn smiled lazily, lightly biting her flushed cheek.
It was a sweet lie.
“Your Highness.”
A clear voice was heard along with a polite knock.
“Your Highness, this is Madam Fitz.”
Erna, who had thought she was dreaming, opened her eyes in surprise at the name that had sharply penetrated her consciousness. A sudden wave of fear washed over her as she realized she was lying naked on a bed in an unfamiliar room.
"... Yes!"
Erna sat up in a panic. The sudden pain in her body brought back memories of the night before, sending her into even greater confusion.
“Hey, wake up!”
Erna first pulled up the sheet and covered her naked body. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blood stains remaining there, just as Madam Fitz began knocking again.
“Yes. Then I’ll go in.”
"No!"
Erna screamed in response and leaped from the bed. Her legs, weak and unsteady, gave way, and she fell to the floor, but she felt no pain.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing! Just, just a little...”
Erna staggered to her feet and hurriedly removed the blood-stained sheets. It was already close to noon. She'd been asleep all this time. It was understandable that Madam Fitz would have been concerned.
While Erna was at a loss as to what to do, Madam Fitz knocked and spoke with concern several more times. She seemed to think something was wrong.
“I will go in, Your Highness.”
Madam Fitz, as if she had made up her mind, announced firmly.
Erna, pale and frightened, ran into the bathroom, clutching the sheets. The moment she pulled the bathroom door shut with all her might, the bedroom door burst open.
After a moment's hesitation, Erna brought the glass she held with both hands to her lips. If she couldn't avoid it anyway, she figured it might be better to borrow some intoxication. She simply couldn't handle such a thing with a clear mind.
Erna slowly but faithfully emptied her glass, sip after sip. It was stronger than she'd expected, but the sweet flavor made it easy to drink.
Be happy.
As she recalled her grandmother's earnest wish, the trembling in her fingertips stopped.
Erna knew better than anyone that the proposal wasn't motivated by love. She even considered it a feeling of pity for the woman in distress, or perhaps a sense of responsibility, but that didn't feel entirely plausible either.
For some unknown reason, Bjorn proposed, and Erna accepted.
That was the best path. That fact hasn't changed much even now. Therefore, Erna wanted to strive. Even if it wasn't love, she wanted to be his best. So they could be happy together for a long time.
As a fever began to spread across her cheeks, Erna glanced up. Bjorn was still there, watching her.
Erna, who had been looking back and forth between the fate she was destined to love and the half-empty glass of wine, took a deep breath with a determined expression. Then she took another sip. It was then that Bjorn's hand suddenly reached out and touched her glass.
Bjorn took the glass from the bewildered Erna and brought it to his lips. The sound of the glass being emptied in one gulp and set down on the side table echoed clearly through the silence.
"...Thank you."
Erna cautiously broke the silence. It seemed a bit of a funny greeting, but she couldn't quite think of anything else to say. More importantly, it was Erna's true feelings.
Bjorn let out a hollow laugh and climbed onto the bed without much haste. Erna flinched, but she no longer fled in fear.
Bjorn, who had been staring blankly, smiled and kissed her, this time a little more gently and slowly. Perhaps because the intoxication was starting to take hold, Erna became much more docile. Even as he lay her down on the bed, snatched away her gown, and traced her neck, shoulders, and chest with his lips, Erna endured his touch with utmost obedience.
“Erna.”
Bjorn called his wife's name with a laugh. Erna, who had been lying there, gasping for breath, as if dead, finally opened her eyes.
“Open your eyes, Erna.”
“Is that how it should be?”
"Yes."
Bjorn lifted the hand he had been kneading from his wife's chest and cupped her cheek. He'd thought it would be enough if she didn't whimper and irritate his nerves, but seeing her slump like a corpse was utterly unsettling.
Facing Erna, who was gazing at him, Bjorn untied the laces of his gown. Erna, holding her breath for a moment, turned her head with a serious expression, as if she had seen something she shouldn't have.
“You have to see me.”
Bjorn tightened his grip and brought Erna's gaze back to him.
“If you do this, Erna, it makes me feel dirty because it feels like I’m hugging a woman who’s always thinking about another guy.”
“That’s not it!”
Erna screamed in anger. She was struck by a sense of utter disorientation as she inadvertently glanced at his bare chest, but she didn't close her eyes again.
“Really, what you are saying is unbearably insulting.”
Erna met Bjorn's face with wide eyes. Her gaze was sharp, as if asserting her innocence.
He swallowed the lips that were about to murmur something again, then firmly spread Erna's legs apart and wet her insides. He thrust deeper and deeper, his thrusts becoming more intense as he continued, but Bjorn had no intention of delaying any longer. From below, where he had already been hardened, he now felt a heat that bordered on dull pain. By the time he'd decided enough was enough, even Bjorn's breathing was no longer peaceful.
Bjorn sat up and positioned himself between Erna's legs.
Erna gazed at her husband, her eyes clouded by the drowsy heat and intoxication. Even as she exhaled heavily, her face remained calm, and she felt a sense of shame. She lowered her gaze, and the sight of his straight collarbone and shoulders caught her eye. The harmony of his strong frame and delicate muscles was truly magnificent.
With eyes filled with the curiosity of a child discovering a new object, Erna carefully examined her husband's body. Consciousness returned only after her gaze drifted down to below his waist.
"Ah..."
Erna, blinking her wide-eyed eyes, sighed involuntarily. She clearly saw it, but couldn't quite believe it. She stared at the walls and ceiling in the darkness, pondering it over and over again.
No way.
Erna, having reached the conclusion that her memory was invalid, turned her frowning eyes back to her husband. But nothing had changed.
“I don’t think we can do it.”
Erna looked at Bjorn's face with a sad expression. It was a serious concern, but Bjorn burst into laughter.
“Thank you, my wife.”
Wrapping her thinner legs around his waist, Bjorn gave an elegant greeting, imitating his wife.
“That’s quite a touching compliment.”
Bjorn immediately subdued Erna, who had begun to struggle, and pressed his lower abdomen against hers. Erna's eyes widened at the unfamiliar sensation of his body touching her, something she hadn't even known about. It was a rather cute expression, but Bjorn didn't have the luxury of enjoying it. Without further delay, he thrust in with all his might.
“Stay still, Erna.”
He gave a command mixed with a rough groan to Erna, who was squirming in fear. Bjorn's forehead furrowed. She was sufficiently wet, but her position was too narrow. Furthermore, she was so terrified that she was stiff, making it even more difficult.
“Bjorn, ah... I don’t think that’ll work.”
Erna, who had been running wildly, started to cry again.
“Stay still.”
Bjorn let out a deep sigh and leaned over Erna, who was trembling, covering her quivering lips with his own. Consideration was the luxury of the wealthy. He was already on the verge of madness.
Bjorn pulled back slightly and thrust in harder. But he wasn't even halfway there. Unaware of this, he continued to thrust. With each contraction of the woman's tight embrace, Bjorn's breathing grew increasingly ragged.
"It's okay."
Bjorn placed tender kisses on Erna's cheek and lips as she sobbed, gradually deepening their bond. The sweat that had been clinging to his nose trickled down onto Erna's panting lips.
“It’s okay now.”
He looked into her tear-filled blue eyes and whispered sweetly. Of course, it was a lie. But the lie seemed to be having some effect, as he felt the tension inside her gradually relax.
Without missing a beat, Bjorn plunged deep into her in one breath. Erna's screams and his own rough groans erupted simultaneously.
“Stop it. Stop it now.”
Erna, holding his shoulder with trembling hands, pleaded with him in tears.
Bjorn, who had been looking at his wife with a face that no longer smiled, slowly backed away and responded by thrusting his hips with all his might. Erna groaned in pain, but his patience, which was not particularly deep, had already worn thin.
“It hurts! Bjorn, please.”
Erna pleaded, but Bjorn ignored her and began to move at a faster pace. The sound of Erna's sobs blending into the sloshing sound wasn't so bad. No, it was thrilling. She seemed to be sucking him in with her entire body.
Bjorn's movements, pushing his waist up, were now beyond the control of reason.
Red, petal-like blood began to spread across Erna's lace nightgown, as well as his groin. Bjorn readily admitted that this, too, was quite a stimulating pleasure. As the moisture spread through her, gradually softening her insides, the initially suffocating tightness became a maddening pleasure.
When he first opened the bedroom door, he thought it was his duty, now that he was married. He also felt a sense of kindness toward his bride, who had been shyly peeking at him all day.
But damn it, it's he who's going crazy.
Bjorn lowered his gaze to see Erna, who was accepting him. Erna swayed helplessly as he moved. Her face was beautiful as she groaned, trying not to close her eyes.
“It’s okay, Erna.”
Bjorn brushed Erna's sweaty hair away and told another affectionate lie.
Erna nodded, knowing she was being deceived. Bjorn smiled, perhaps pleased by the answer. Suddenly, a story she'd heard from her grandmother as a child—that the devil tempts with the most beautiful face—came to mind.
Burying his face in Erna's neck, he began to move fiercely again. A bestial breathing noise filled her ears, and her body shook so violently that it was difficult to regain consciousness.
Erna, at a loss, burst into tears, unable to hold back any longer. The pain beneath his thrusts, as if crushed, made it difficult to breathe. It was a pain accompanied by a tingling, burning sensation, indescribable. "Thud." The humiliating sound of wet skin scraping against wet flesh further clouded Erna's consciousness.
Erna now began to sob, but Bjorn sat up straight, paying no attention. Her small face, drenched in sweat and tears, was all the more pitiful and beautiful.
Bjorn began to arch his back, looking down at his bride, who had become his. A thick breath and a moan escaped his lips, a satisfied smile on his face. It wasn't just her silky skin that was insanely smooth and soft. The woman's insides, squeezing and enveloping him, were like a slurry of pleasure.
Holding his wife, who was wailing in agony, tightly, Bjorn thrust himself deep inside her. Her small body, which had trembled as if startled by the hot eruption, soon sagged limply. The sound of their heavy breathing drifted through the suddenly settled silence.
Even as his breathing slowed and his body's heat cooled, Bjorn remained inside his wife. Erna, who looked at him with a soft sob, her eyes bloodshot.
“Is it all over now?”
After moving her lips several times, Erna finally asked a cautious question.
Bjorn, who was resting his forehead against his wife's, kissed her cute nose as if praising her for being a good child.
"Yes."
This time, Bjorn smiled lazily, lightly biting her flushed cheek.
It was a sweet lie.
***
“Your Highness.”
A clear voice was heard along with a polite knock.
“Your Highness, this is Madam Fitz.”
Erna, who had thought she was dreaming, opened her eyes in surprise at the name that had sharply penetrated her consciousness. A sudden wave of fear washed over her as she realized she was lying naked on a bed in an unfamiliar room.
"... Yes!"
Erna sat up in a panic. The sudden pain in her body brought back memories of the night before, sending her into even greater confusion.
“Hey, wake up!”
Erna first pulled up the sheet and covered her naked body. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blood stains remaining there, just as Madam Fitz began knocking again.
“Yes. Then I’ll go in.”
"No!"
Erna screamed in response and leaped from the bed. Her legs, weak and unsteady, gave way, and she fell to the floor, but she felt no pain.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing! Just, just a little...”
Erna staggered to her feet and hurriedly removed the blood-stained sheets. It was already close to noon. She'd been asleep all this time. It was understandable that Madam Fitz would have been concerned.
While Erna was at a loss as to what to do, Madam Fitz knocked and spoke with concern several more times. She seemed to think something was wrong.
“I will go in, Your Highness.”
Madam Fitz, as if she had made up her mind, announced firmly.
Erna, pale and frightened, ran into the bathroom, clutching the sheets. The moment she pulled the bathroom door shut with all her might, the bedroom door burst open.
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