The Hero's Primary Wife, Mandarin (2)
The interior of the palace where the Hero and his harem lived was far more sprawling than Darin had imagined. They weren't even touring the entire castle — just the areas they would mainly use — and still it took several hours.
Ugh, my legs…
Cold sweat beaded across the girl's brow; her condition was clearly poor. The recent sex with her son had left her thighs trembling so badly she could barely walk.
Astesia was not only the most lustful of the harem members — a true seductress — but also a member of the Hero's Party. There was no way she would fail to notice Darin's discomfort.
"Are you in a great deal of pain somewhere? You look terribly unsteady on your feet."
"Ah — no, I'm fine!"
"Mmm, for someone who's fine, your legs are shaking rather violently, don't you think?"
"……"
A faint crease formed between Astesia's brows. The way the girl in front of her was walking — slightly bow-legged — was all too familiar. Back in her own pure days, when she had first been claimed by the Hero, she had walked exactly like that.
Having confidently diagnosed the reason for Darin's trembling legs, Astesia casually tossed out a rather indelicate subject as if it were nothing at all.
"Did you, by any chance, sleep with Lucas before coming here?"
"Wh— what!?"
Darin was stunned that someone calling herself a Saintess would speak so bluntly. But Astesia had been the first woman the Hero ever conquered, and she seemed incapable of coyness on such topics. She merely smiled, perfectly composed.
"Oh my, how forward of me. And it can't have been long since you and Lucas were together…"
"……"
"Your first time must have hurt terribly. Honestly, Lucas is the problem here, isn't he? Treating a woman whose body hasn't even fully matured so roughly."
"W-wait — please don't misunderstand!"
"Hehe. Darin, there's no need to be so embarrassed. After all, we're something of a community, sharing the same man as our husband. And more than that… I've grown rather fond of you."
The pink-haired woman's gaze, thick with goodwill, was a little overwhelming — but Darin was still grateful to be liked. She just wished the misunderstanding would stop.
"Why would you think that?"
"Because of the way you walk. In the early days with Lucas, my own groin was terribly sore as well."
"…Ah."
The vermilion-haired girl let out a soft gasp and averted her eyes from the Saintess. She had tried to brush it off vaguely, but the eye of a fellow experienced woman was apparently inescapable.
The misunderstanding only piled higher. And yet confessing to the Saintess that she had been with another man felt impossible. There was no way of knowing whether Lucas would broadcast to everyone that the woman meant to be his partner was not a virgin — or whether he would try to hide it.
Either way, she had to stay in his good graces if she ever wanted to return to Bayorn Castle, didn't she? Men with power never liked it when the women who were to become theirs started making their own judgments.
Having to read the mood of my own kidnapper is absurd, but…
The situation — fretting over someone else's opinion just to go home — was ridiculous, yet Darin was a sensible woman. She knew that flying off the handle according to her temper would solve nothing.
Right. There's no point continuing this conversation. She wouldn't believe me anyway.
So the baroness abandoned her explanations and decided, for now, to maintain the position of "comrade who lost her virginity to the same man" alongside Astesia. Even if the truth came out later, this was the best she could do at present.
From then on, whenever the subject arose, Darin simply kept her mouth shut. The more they talked about virginity and sex, the more lies she would have to tell. Even in this situation, she wanted to preserve what little conscience she had left.
She knew perfectly well how laughable it was — a woman who had spread her legs for her own son and moaned with pleasure, now suddenly fretting over propriety. But precisely because she had already committed such a grave sin, shouldn't she at least refuse to commit any more?
Darin reproached herself even as she felt the injustice of it: she had never intended any of this, yet somehow, without realizing, she was turning into a wicked woman. The rightful target of her resentment was her son, the one who had caused it all — but he was her own flesh and blood, the child she loved, and turning her arrows on him was not so easy.
"Haa…"
The rising bitterness made moisture gather at the corners of her eyes as they walked toward the lodgings. The stress had piled so high she wanted to pour it out to someone — anyone — but there was no suitable person in sight.
"…Oh my, Darin."
Seeing this, Astesia covered her mouth with both hands in a gesture of surprise, then nodded as if she understood completely, and drew the vermilion-haired girl into an embrace.
"Becoming a woman at such a young age… of course it left a wound on your heart. He is a man who enjoys rough intercourse, after all."
The Saintess had already decided that a forced, violent coupling — one that had never actually occurred — must have taken place. Thinking of it that way, this vermilion-haired girl seemed piercingly pitiful.
"It's all right. It's all right now."
Of course, the real reason Darin was crying lay somewhere else entirely.
"When Lucas returns, shall I scold him for you? How could he do this to such a young girl…"
A young girl.
The words pricked Darin's conscience and made her flinch inwardly — but regardless, the Saintess's gentle hands offering comfort did ease her heart somewhat.
Yet the longer time passed, and the closer the two of them drew, something began to feel wrong.
"S-Saintess?"
Thinking the comfort had been more than enough, Darin tried to create some natural distance — only for Astesia to pull her in by the waist and hold her fast.
"Men really are too rough, aren't they? If it had been between women, Darin, you never would have had to shed those tears…"
"Eh…?"
"Hehe. Was that too difficult to follow?"
"I-I don't really understand what you mean."
"I mean exactly what I said. Time spent between women has a coziness you can never experience with a man."
A little physical affection, now that a certain closeness had formed, would have been fine. She occasionally shared light hugs with her own attendant Emma, after all.
But Astesia's touch was strangely, excessively intimate for one woman toward another. She kneaded the soft flesh of Darin's upper arms, slowly stroked her pliant side with her fingertips, and more than once let her hand linger at the junction of hip and thigh…
"W-wait, Astesia?"
"Yes, Darin? Is there something more you'd like to say?"
In contrast to those sticky hands, the smile on the Saintess's face was the very picture of holiness.
Her expression seemed to say: if you have anything you wish to tell me, say it freely — carrying even the sense of a Saintess's sacred duty to comfort a little lamb.
What is this…?
Her actions and her words didn't match at all. She was shameless beyond belief. For a moment Darin could only stare blankly, unable to process the situation. But then the hand openly tickling near her belly and navel made her realize something was going very wrong.
"Astesia. Why — why are you doing this?"
"There's no need to be so wary. It's simply a gesture of closeness."
"A gesture of closeness? The women around me never treated me like this!"
"Oh my, what a waste. Ah! I heard that Akael dotes on you, so the others must not have dared approach you freely, hmm?"
"What did you just…?"
Darin let out a strangled sound of pure disbelief.
What a waste?
What on earth was that supposed to mean?
She had thought the Saintess was pitying her and offering comfort — so what were these incomprehensible actions supposed to be?
Whether Darin's sanity was packing its bags or not, the Saintess simply took the delicate girl's hand and led her toward a private chamber. She must have chosen this moment to speak precisely because they were already near the lodgings; the time it took to reach the room was very short.
"Do you like it? Lucas said you love tangerines, so I decorated everything in orange. And since I heard you have a modest side as well, I made sure it wouldn't be too lavish."
A private chamber fragrant with fruit and filled with charming little orange ornaments welcomed Darin. Its scale far exceeded the baroness's chambers she had once lived in — yet far from being pleased, she only felt more desolate.
For a mother of two grown children, the space was far too girlish. It looked like the kind of fresh, innocent room where some clueless little girl might tumble about without a care in the world.
And then another strange thought struck her.
No matter how capable Lucas and the Saintess were — she had only just been kidnapped. And yet a vast private chamber tailored perfectly to her tastes was already prepared? It made no sense unless it had been arranged in advance.
A creeping chill rose through her. Darin wrapped her arms around herself, then looked straight at Astesia and opened her mouth to resolve the doubt.
"This chamber… I mean, this place where I'm to stay — how long has it been prepared?"
But the woman only smiled brightly, as if nothing were amiss —
while her hands continued to toy with the vermilion-haired girl's waist.
"This place was ready the moment the victory parade ended…"
"Lucas had it made especially for you, Darin."