Chapter 103
Chapter 103: Escape from Sin
This moment was similar yet different from the previous times they had entwined bodies recklessly in the temple. Unlike the stark white prayer room, this place bore a darker, more oppressive atmosphere, intensifying the feeling of committing a forbidden act in a place where it should not occur.
Tatar lowered his head while Vinea pressed her knees against his lower body, her grip forcing his legs apart. Underneath the pristine white dress, strands of her silver-grey hair peeked out. He kissed up from her rounded knees to her inner thighs and further up, eliciting a tremor through Vinea’s tensed body with the soft feel of his exploring tongue.
The limited space on the table where she sat made it challenging to manage her posture. The risk of falling backward was clear if she fully reclined, which necessitated propping herself up with her arms, yet Tatar’s persistent teasing below made it difficult to maintain any stability.
Finally reaching her most intimate area, he left a stark red mark just below her navel while continuing his ascent. His right hand ventured under her dress, stroking the dampened pinnacle he had kissed, as he lifted the obstructing fabric over her head.
With her lower body now fully exposed in the sacred and solemn space, Vinea, in a position she dared not show, grabbed Tatar’s head from below and pulled him up.
“Hurry.”
At her brief permission, Tatar adjusted his waistband. His tip, already moist from the act of killing the Grand Priest and embracing Vinea, awaited entry. He took a deep, heated breath and with a firm grasp, guided himself into the tight entrance she offered.
“Ah…”
Pressing down on Vinea’s flat stomach with one hand, he prompted her to pull his wrist up to her neck.
“Quickly, Tatar. Before I forget the whispers you shared with me in the glass garden, hurry…”
His forceful embrace and the lifting motions he made were almost like a threat. As the strain became too much for her arms to bear, Vinea swiftly wrapped them around his neck. The lifted white dress, disheveled between them, posed no barrier as Tatar, unable to resist his thirst any longer, sought her lips amidst his vigorous movements.
“Uh, hm, ah—”
Intermittent moans were swallowed by their deep kisses. The desire to explore every depth, to feel the throbbing heart through her gasping throat, made it impossible for Vinea to deny mixing her breath with his, quickly depleting what little air she had left.
Amid this, Tatar’s strong thrusts prompted Vinea to turn her head away from his lips, releasing a cry.
“Ah…”
Annoyed, Tatar furrowed his brows and bit into the pale, thin neck before him.
“Ah…!”
Only after marking her did he seem satisfied, swallowing hard over the saliva-moistened throat.
Then, embracing her as if to crush her, he laid her fully across the table. The short edge left her head and neck unsupported, but Tatar’s firm hands encased them carefully. To prevent any harm from the hard, cold table, he lifted her with his left arm, which inadvertently stimulated him further.
The tightening within her made him grit his teeth. The bulging veins at his temples showed how much he endured.
“It’s too tight, Vinea…!”
Yet, he did not pause his movements. The rough, upward thrusts left Vinea breathless, unable to protest as she placed her hands over his chest.
“Hh, ugh, ah, hm—”
“Just a little more. Okay? Vinea—”
If she cl*maxed like this, he too would be irresistibly driven to an intense release due to the tight clenching below.
No, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to indulge a bit more in this pl*asure, a satisfaction no drug or hallucination could mimic.
“Stop, it’s too, ah, strange, Tatar…!”
Barely managing to utter his name, Vinea felt him penetrate deeply.
“Ah…”
Her eyes widened, her blue irises blurring as waves of pl*asure washed over her, causing her to hold her breath and tremble violently.
The intense clenching that allowed no room for escape gripped him firmly, as Tatar’s thighs tensed with his relentless motion.
Pouring everything into her, Tatar drove himself to the deepest reach until the end.
“Ah…”
Above their heated breaths, the dim light spilled through a round glass ceiling, casting a serene glow over them.
* * *
“Just now, it was decided how the young lady will be treated. His Majesty has ordered that she be imprisoned in the dungeon, and upon his return, a trial date will be set.”
Lineue looked down at Eurene, who sat on the sofa, with disdain in her eyes.
After waking from a death-like sleep and escaping the Emperor’s threat, Eurene, who seemed to have lost her spirit, was temporarily placed in the reception room of the Empress’s palace. A knight was stationed at the door just in case, while Lineue had just received a letter from Sir Deron, the Emperor’s aide.
The content of the letter was truly horrifying.
How could a mere noblewoman attempt to coerce the Emperor, and shamelessly claim a part of the palace as her own, despite not being the mother of his child?
Had Sir Deron, who had just teleported to the central temple, not informed her of this, this woman would have continued to behave as if she could replace the Empress and freely roam the palace.
Even after hearing that she was to be sent to the dungeon, Eurene remained seated, prompting Lineue to mutter to herself with a scowl, “This is truly dreadful…”
Realizing her slip, she quickly shut her mouth and turned away.
“Guards will soon bring clothes for you to change into. There are knights at the door, so don’t try anything foolish.”
As if disliking even sharing the space, Lineue wrapped her arms around herself, shrugged her shoulders, and left the reception room.
Left alone, Eurene slowly lifted her head.
“I am dreadful?”
That couldn’t be right. To slander a righteous victim in such a way was unthinkable.
She should formally protest. Once she became Empress, once her child was the crown prince, then—
Suddenly, Eurene’s expression twisted.
“It can’t be…”
She muttered hopelessly.
It couldn’t be because the Emperor she had tried to harm had awakened.
The one who should have taken all the truths to the grave with his death was alive and threatening her with a sword, utterly shattering any possibility of the future she had dreamed of.
The truths she had desperately ignored were resurfacing, scratching at her ears with a painfully clear voice.
“How foolish. Don’t you still understand who your mother shares a father with? Your mother and the former Emperor were half-siblings, Eurene Castallo—”
‘The truth is, your mother and the late Emperor were half-siblings.’
Tears fell unopposed beneath her green eyes, soaking Eurene’s dress.
“Ah, ah…”
The fabric of her dress crumpled in her hands.
Everything was over. The greed had sparked an uncontrollable blaze, consuming everything around her.
Even now, the meaningless assumption, ‘if only he had not awakened,’ disgusted her beyond endurance.
It seemed as if darkness and her mind had completely merged, inseparable. Instinctively knowing why all this had happened, she still sought ways to look away.
From sin, from guilt, and from regret.
Kneeling and collapsing on the floor, Eurene clutched her forearm, her nails digging sharply into her exposed skin.
“Ugh—”
Her stomach churned, as if filled with filth that could never be cleansed.
If only she could wash away all these impurities. If only someone, even just one person, could declare her innocent.
Then perhaps it would be better to die, to stop this dreadful thought.
Fumbling, Eurene searched the pocket sewn into the waistband of her dress. She had always carried something precious since sneaking into the palace.
A small vial caught by her trembling fingers.
“Holy water…”
It had been given to her along with poison by Asha.
Hoping it might somehow aid her in her endeavors, Asha’s clear eyes flashed through her mind.
Holy water said to expel malice. Could it not purify her tainted body? Could it erase this heart full of desire, jealousy, and hatred without leaving a trace?
The cap rolled aimlessly on the floor. Footsteps clanked in the distance—guards coming to take her.
No. Not the dungeon again, not trapped in darkness.
Being locked away from any light, having tasted freedom even if false, was akin to a death sentence for her.
Eurene put the vial to her lips and tilted her head back. The holy water, warmed by her body, moistened her throat.
The glass vial dropped from her hand and rolled across the floor.
“Ah…”
Her vision blurred. She felt incredibly sleepy, unable to keep her eyes open.
Eurene no longer resisted the overwhelming sense of guilt. She just desperately hoped for an end to it all.
‘If I open my eyes and everything has changed. If it could be like nothing ever happened, back to my old self…’
Back to when she believed the small Castallo estate was her entire world, not having met her brother Tatar whom she saw as salvation, to a time when everyone in her small world loved and cherished her.
“I’m sorry…”
Her apology trailed off, attaching to no one’s name.
Then Eurene’s upper body tilted to the floor.
