Ventorino Kingdom - Fall or Collapse (18)
"Hehe. You’re going to be very surprised. I’ve prepared a very big present. Tonight… I’m going to offer you my virginity…♥"
At that wanton smile, Marc felt as if his heart had stopped for a split second.
And then, almost at once, it began pounding wildly in his chest.
It was hard to call it the one great wish of his life, since he had not been wanting it for all that long, but there was no denying it was the thing he had most desired of late. More than anything to do with the kingdom or the royal family, at that. There wasn’t going to be a war right this moment, after all, and the country was fairly stable.
So then.
I guess I can live a little more for myself…
Most heroes, once they seized power and climbed high enough, grew hungrier still for more authority and more fame.
But Marc was a little different.
He missed his old life a bit.
The life where he roamed as he pleased, carried out his missions, fought enemies, and drank his fill with his comrades in high spirits. Of course, if someone told him to go back to that time, he would refuse flatly. Still, he wanted to live a little more freely, just as he had then. And he intended to make tonight part of that.
"Ah, yes… that is quite the enormous gift…."
Greed began to seep into Marc’s eyes.
Reading his emotions, Rachel slowly let herself slide onto the bed. Then she spread her limbs and welcomed him.
"Come on over…."
"Ha, ha, hahahaha!"
Throwing off the authority and dignity he always wore, the king lunged toward the bed where the girl lay waiting. Seeing that, Rachel burst into laughter as she lay there on the mattress. It was far too crude a laugh for a girl her age, but Marc found even that beautiful.
"Don’t be so hasty. We have plenty of time."
"Plenty of time? This is the moment I’ve been longing for. I can hardly bear the thought of having to go back before dawn."
Marc continued speaking lewdly over Rachel as he hovered above her.
"Hmn, are you really sure you’ll make it back on time?"
"Haha. A virgin, and yet so full of confidence."
"Of course."
"Heh, heh, heh. Now I’m really curious where that confidence comes from."
The girl beneath him offered no reply, only a faint smile.
Marc did not press her for one. He simply thought the tense Rachel was putting on a brave front. Virginity aside, her stamina did not seem all that impressive. It was true that physical endurance in daily life and in bed were not always the same thing, but at their root, they were usually similar.
And stamina, in general, could be roughly judged by looking at the body. By that measure, Rachel was the one who ought to be worried.
Still, she really has changed a lot.
His gaze slid up and down as he checked Rachel’s half-stripped figure.
Her fairly full, rounded body was a world apart from when they had first met. Back then, she had looked like an ordinary peasant girl; now she carried something of a noble young lady’s air. The thought that he had helped shape her into someone who had finally grown into her own age left him feeling oddly proud.
At the same time, the fact that he was about to take that girl’s virginity made his loins throb. He had always preferred a more mature, fuller figure over a small and youthful one, but for some reason it felt as though even that private preference might change now.
Come to think of it, she does look a bit like…
Like her, he thought.
The former princess of the royal house, Isabel Ventorino.
There was something else about her that felt strangely familiar, too. A face he knew all too well. Aside from Isabel, he was certain he had seen it somewhere before, yet no matter how hard he searched his memory, he couldn’t place it. There was just something faintly irritating, as though a part of his mind had gone sour.
Marc assumed it was because of the ethical discomfort of the fact that he was about to bed a girl not even half his age, while at the same time feeling elated by it. That assumption was both right and wrong.
"But why do you always leave so early? And yet you never come early, either."
His thoughts were shattered by Rachel’s question.
"What? W-Well, that’s…."
"I mean, I can guess."
"T-Then what do you mean by…."
"Why? You’ve told me before. About your family."
"Ah…."
The king, who had been wavering under the girl’s words, quickly began to calm down. Come to think of it, that was true. He had already told her that he was a married man. That alone was explanation enough for why he came late and left in a hurry.
"And you told me about the palace, too."
"……."
"And with all this money you have, you must be someone important. So of course you’d want to hire a mere whore as a servant in your palace."
"Y-Yes. That’s right."
Marc felt relieved. He even thought himself foolish. Even though he had said all of it with his own mouth, he had still been unable to infer something this simple. Had he become so thoroughly devoured by lust that his wits had gone soft?
At the same time, another anxiety crept in. Had she perhaps learned his identity after all?
"A man of importance abandoning his wife and children to come see me… Hehe, I’m happy."
"……Ah, yes. If you’re happy, then that’s enough."
At Rachel’s words, that she was happy, Marc felt his unease wash away all at once. What did it matter even if she had discovered his identity? This girl was enjoying herself so much.
"…Oh dear, we’ve been chatting for quite a while."
"That means you’ve relaxed, right?"
"If you want to know whether I’ve relaxed or not… why don’t you check for yourself…♡"
At that suggestive whisper, Marc thrust his hips forward at once and drove down into the girl.
After that, the king no longer remembered things very clearly.
He went mad in a sweet, brain-melting ecstasy, shaking his hips without a thought. The girl’s sharp little gasps, the hot breaths that slipped out of her—it all intoxicated him like a drug. When was the last time he had been this utterly consumed by sex?
He did not even know how much time had passed. He had been so focused on their carnal frenzy that he had lost track of it entirely. It must have been at least an hour. His virility felt far stronger than usual, and in that span he had spilled himself into the girl’s body five or six times. If it had been one of her dangerous days, she would surely have gotten pregnant.
Marc thought that might have been fine, too.
It was that dazzling a moment.
It was like when he had met the succubus in the Demon Castle eighteen years ago.
……Succubus?
For some reason, his mind snapped awake.
"Hahh, what’s wrong…?"
"Rachel, you…."
Marc moved his lips as if to say something to the sweat-soaked girl pinned beneath him. But Rachel, sensing something was off, struck first.
"How was it inside me, Daddy?"
"……What?"
"I asked how Daddy liked the inside of his daughter."
"……."
The king—Daddy—Marc. A chill raced down his spine.
Rachel’s expression was one he had never seen before: cold, merciless. And in her eyes burned a deep, abiding hatred. Marc had crossed countless battlefields in his youth and later ruled the sharp-edged world of politics, but he could not endure the look on this girl’s face.
"Y-You, you, you…."
"It’s a strange way to put it, but… hehe, let me introduce myself again. Rachel Ventorino. I’m your illegitimate daughter."
"?! "
By then he should have pulled away from her, but Marc did not move. No, he could not move. The revelation was too shocking, too devastating. And yet he found himself accepting her words.
"Ha… haha… you’re… Isabel’s daughter."
"That’s right. You picked it up faster than I expected."
At that thin smile, Marc’s head swam.
"B-But… why… how…?"
"Hmn? What exactly are you curious about? Why I’m doing this? Or how I was born?"
"……."
"Ah, both, I see. Then I’ll tell you one thing at a time."
"Hah…."
Rachel looked far too calm. Marc could not understand it. Her expression and eyes clearly looked as though they wanted to kill him on the spot, and yet Rachel was desperately holding that emotion in and aiming at something else.
Just what… just what is she thinking?
It was the right conclusion, and also his desperate attempt to look away from what was happening now. If he were some filth who didn’t care about taboos at all, he would have simply enjoyed the situation without a second thought. But Marc was not like that.
So he tried to force his mind in another direction. It was only natural that he could not believe it. The woman he loved, the woman whose virginity he had taken, was his own illegitimate child. And not just any child—the daughter of Isabel Ventorino. But when Rachel revealed the truth, he understood. It was the only answer that made sense of the strange familiarity and closeness he had felt all along.
Rachel leisurely moved her mouth, telling him the things he wanted to know.
How her mother Isabel had survived. What emotions she had carried. Isabel’s scheme, and the circumstances of Rachel’s birth.
With each piece of the story, Marc’s expression crumbled and twisted more deeply.
"……That’s roughly it. So? Has everything you wanted to know been answered?"
"Ah…."
The king covered his face with both hands and sobbed.
For him, who had grown older and been tormented by regret over those events, the truth Rachel revealed was too cruel to bear. But his daughter had no intention of ever forgiving him. Revenge on him was the only thing her mother had passed down to Rachel.
"What should I, what should I do… so that your heart will ease…?"
Marc tried with all his might to contain the emotions threatening to burst out of him.
But the answer that came back from his daughter was utterly hopeless.
"Ease? Haha. What difference would that make?"
"What…?"
"If I forgive you, does Mom come back? Well, revenge won’t bring her back either. But… Mom resented and hated you until the very end. So I’ll be the one to carry that out, as the last blood she left behind."
"……."
"…Pfft. That look on your face is funny. But you know what?"
"…?"
"My feelings, my mother’s hatred… this much isn’t nearly enough."
Inside, her father thought to himself. That was a small relief.
After all, what more could his daughter possibly do now? She had already committed the horrible act of making her father take his own daughter’s virginity. He himself was hanging on by the thinnest thread of reason, desperately trying not to go mad. But whatever she had planned, it didn’t seem likely to be any more shocking than this.
"Don’t worry."
"What do you mean by that…?"
"Because my virginity is still perfectly intact."
"?! "
Marc’s eyes flew wide open.
Rachel, who had just been vivid and real before his eyes, vanished like smoke. And that voice he had just heard—it came from behind him, not in front. As though she had been standing there all along.
Be, behind me there was….
There had been a bed.
The same kind he was on now.
He had assumed that was only because this was a brothel. It seemed like a VIP room, but he had thought they kept two beds there in case multiple guests came at once. But what if that wasn’t the case?
While he was still unable to summon the courage to turn around, another voice came to him.
"It worked out well, didn’t it? You should thank me. Rachel wanted to do it like that, but… I thought that would be a bit much."
"That voice…?"
Familiar.
A boy’s voice he had heard more than once these past few days.
Without realizing it, Marc turned.
"Sir Valdes…?"
"Yes, that’s right. But also not quite."
"……?"
Why was that man here? Marc’s mind had gone numb; he could not think at all. Questions were all that remained. He had no time to search for answers.
"I’m so glad. I was worried you’d recognize me and start to suspect something. It’s not as though you’ve seen that much of me, after all. But at the same time, I’m furious. I’m enraged. ……Was my death really worth so little to you? Hm? Answer me, Sir Marc."
Valdes spoke with a savage edge unlike his usual self, but before long his tone changed again. It was respectful, yet it was not the voice of Sir Valdes, the young hero others usually saw. And yet Marc knew exactly who it belonged to.
"……Ah. Ah. Ah…?"
That voice was so familiar, and yet he had not heard it for so very long.
"Pe, pe, Pedro…?! "
"Ah, correct."
The boy’s face wore a gentle smile.
But Marc was horrified, stricken with fear, and driven to despair.
That expression, too, was exactly the same.
The comrade whose life he had ended with his own hands, once upon a time.
The hero Pedro.
"Now then, let’s continue the story from eighteen years ago, shall we, Sir Marc Delpasion of the fallen nobility?"
For Marc, a far more terrifying and far more dreadful moment had arrived than the fact that he had taken his daughter’s virginity.