Chapter 101
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 101
His nerves felt raw, honed to a razor’s edge.
As he trickled the acrid liquid into the narrow confines of her mouth, her flushed face contorted. She clearly loathed the taste of the potion.
However, he couldn’t empathize with her discomfort. He could smell the pungent, grassy scent and taste the intense bitterness stimulating his own palate, but those sensations didn’t translate into distress for him.
Barkas repeatedly drove his tongue into her tightly constricted mouth, withdrawing only to pull her struggling body even closer.
A thin shudder ran through her as she swallowed the liquid pooled in her throat. Her ragged, panting breath dampened his skin.
He tried to entangle his tongue with hers as she curled it back in retreat, but when she continued to resist, he finally lifted his head.
Her face came into view—disheveled, messy, and breathless from the unfamiliar act.
Suddenly, a sharp sensation scraped down his spine.
He pressed his thumb against her swollen lower lip, forcing her jaw open. Inhaling the frantic breaths escaping from her mouth, he gave a rough command.
"Stick out your tongue."
Her watery eyes wavered with anxiety.
He slid a finger past her teeth, lightly pressing down on the damp muscle. His voice dropped, edged with impatience.
"Hurry."
Looking up at him with dazed, confused eyes, Thalia slowly obeyed.
The moment he took her tongue into his mouth and sucked gently, her frail body went rigid with shock.
He cupped the back of her neck, tilting his head to deepen the angle. Her small tongue flickered tantalizingly against his. He wrapped a heavy arm around her supple waist, relentlessly pursuing her whenever she tried to flee.
Beneath the thin fabric of her clothes, he could feel her delicate bones and soft curves.
Her body, which had grown noticeably thinner over the last two seasons, felt as though it might shatter if he applied even a fraction too much strength. A strange sense of anxiety flared within him, prompting him to finally release her.
A silver thread of saliva trailed between her bruised, crimson lips. As he licked it away, he heard a voice that sounded on the verge of tears.
"Why..."
She looked up at him, her eyes bright with a feverish intensity.
"Why are you going this far?"
Barkas knitted his brows.
In truth, he wanted to ask her the same thing.
Why shouldn’t he do this?
They were husband and wife. Their relationship was such that far more intimate acts would be expected. He simply hadn’t demanded them because he knew she didn’t want him.
But you were the one who reached out first.
Suppressing the urge to blame her, he stared into her dizzy, inscrutable eyes. His insides twisted at the mixture of confusion, wariness, and doubt swirling in her gaze.
He slowly released his hold on her.
"If you hate it when I do this, then don’t provoke me in the future."
Thalia bit her lip and cast her eyes down.
Her trembling mouth drew his gaze once more. Mocking himself for his own lack of control, he rose from the bed, but a choked voice caught his ear.
"Wh-who said I hated it?"
Barkas looked down at her, his expression cold.
She made her demand as if she were reclaiming something she had left in his care.
"I won’t cry anymore, so keep going. There’s still... medicine left."
In an instant, a fierce heat tore through his gut. He frowned at the sensation; it felt closer to displeasure than desire.
What on earth did this woman want from him?
"I want you to be in pain. Very, very much."
The words she had once muttered while drugged flashed through his mind. At the time, he had dismissed them as the ramblings of a delirious woman. Even now, more than a decade later, his sense of physical pain had not returned. He couldn’t even remember what it felt like.
But perhaps, he thought, this sensation he was feeling now was the closest he would ever get to it.
"I-if you don’t want to, then fine. Go away."
Unable to bear the lengthening silence, Thalia pushed against his chest.
He snatched her hand and pulled her light frame onto his lap. Her body, which had been stiff with tension, immediately went limp. He wound her silk-smooth hair around his fingers and bit into her wet lips.
She was a woman who was never satisfied unless she made a mess of others—and herself.
From the moment he had taken responsibility for her, he had known his orderly world would be ruined.
Barkas closed his eyes, feeling a heat so intense it felt as if his internal organs were festering.
It was like swallowing venom.
*
The journey continued without further incident.
After visiting the great estates of the Northeast, they moved south to tour various trade hubs. For a time, they were greeted by a succession of grand cities that dazzled the eyes, followed by enthusiastic welcomes from wealthy merchants and high-ranking nobles.
However, none of it could capture Thalia’s interest. Her mind was far too preoccupied.
She touched her stinging lips and stared out the carriage window. Between the ranks of knights marching in orderly fashion, she caught glimpses of Barkas.
Clad in his black breastplate and riding with a perfectly straight posture, he looked every bit the cold, austere Lord. It was impossible to reconcile this image with the primal man who devoured her lips every night.
Feeling her stomach twist, Thalia drew the curtains. But even with her vision blocked, the thoughts wouldn’t stop.
She obsessively ruminated over their nightly encounters.
Barkas never initiated a kiss unless she requested it. Yet, he didn’t seem to be complying against his will, either. He would persist until she was driven to her absolute limit. At times, it even felt as if he were the desperate one.
But when she grew frightened by the sheer depth of the contact and pushed him away, Barkas would retreat obediently, his face returning to its usual dispassionate mask. At those times, she felt as if she had imagined the whole thing.
Thalia habitually nibbled on her lip, then winced at a sharp pain. When she touched it, a faint smear of blood came away.
She couldn’t tell if it was a wound she had caused herself or one Barkas had left. Lately, he had been tormenting her lips with increasing frequency.
Fiddling with her chapped skin, Thalia closed her eyes. Just as she was about to nap to clear her head, the carriage came to a halt.
"We have arrived. Please step down."
A blunt voice came through the window.
Thalia straightened her clothes and stepped out.
On the wide plain, large cone-shaped tents and weathered huts were scattered about. A sense of bewilderment washed over her at the humble scenery. Compared to the North, where the gap between rich and poor was severe, the South was generally wealthy. It had been a long time since she had seen such a village.
"We plan to stay here tonight," explained a young cavalryman whom Barkas had assigned as her guard. "It may be uncomfortable, but please bear with it for just one day."
Thalia moved forward without replying.
Barkas was in the middle of speaking to a man who appeared to be the village head. As she watched him, Barkas gestured for her to join them.
Thalia cautiously approached. Barkas placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke to the man in a businesslike tone.
"We will be setting up our own tents, so you only need to provide a residence for my wife."
Thalia looked up at him, surprised. "What do you mean by that?"
"Tonight," Barkas replied, "there will be a minor subjugation operation."