Chapter 8

“Well, what do you think?”  

Yvonne let out a small whimper and took a step back at the sight of the iron chain in Logan’s hand. It was her first time seeing a dog up close. She hadn’t expected it to be this big.  

“I’m scared…”  

Even among its breed, this one was unusually large. To Yvonne’s frightened eyes, it seemed even bigger than it was. Its short, glossy fur made its well-defined muscles more pronounced. The dog panted heavily, tongue lolling, its entire body quivering with restless energy.  

Logan pulled the trembling Yvonne closer and smiled. He grabbed her wrist and forced her hand to stroke the dog’s back. The unfamiliar warmth of an animal’s body seeped into her fingertips. The sensation of living fur was unsettling. Yvonne bit her lip to keep from screaming.  

“Louis is gentle. He’s good with people. Before he injured his leg, he was Brother’s favorite…”  

Yvonne’s gaze drifted to the dog’s lean legs. One of its hind legs bore a long, jagged scar, as if sliced by something sharp. No fur seemed to grow there.  

“He can walk fine if he takes it slow, but he limps badly when he runs. Poor thing, right?”  

“Yeah…” 

“We’ve left him alone until now… but if you don’t take him in, this dog will die.”  

“What?”  

At the horrifying words, Yvonne’s head snapped up. Logan’s expression as he petted the dog was unusually hard to read today.  

“A hunting dog that can’t run is useless. Brother discards anything–or anyone–the moment they stop being useful. Whether it’s an object, an animal…”  

“…”  

“Or even a person.”  

Yvonne swallowed thickly. Somehow, those words felt like they were directed at her. ‘If I’m abandoned by Brother–by Alexander–what will happen to me?’  

“He never looks twice at a woman once he’s lost interest.”  

Logan’s snickering remark sounded like a taunt aimed straight at her. ‘But I’m… his sister… No, does that even matter?’ A chill ran down her spine. Alexander had already called her useless as a sister from the beginning.  

She hugged her arms, suddenly feeling a cold sweat. ‘If Brother–if Master–throws me away, I’ll die.’  

‘But surely he wouldn’t… kill me… That’s too cruel…’  

The dog in front of her seemed to overlap with her own image. For a moment, she wondered if she was the dog, and the one leashed before her was–  

Her breath hitched. An irrational fear crashed over her, twisting her thoughts into chaos.  

“Yvonne!”  

“Huh? Wh-what…?”  

“Why are you shaking like that? Are you hurt?”  

“No…”  

Panting, Yvonne stared back at the dog. ‘What was I thinking? This is a dog. I’m a human.’ She looked between her own hand and the animal, and the panic slowly ebbed. She exhaled deeply.  

Now, she wasn’t afraid of the poor creature. When she hesitantly reached out to pet it again, the dog whined and nuzzled its head against her hand. Yvonne flinched slightly at the movement but didn’t pull away.  

“I’ll take care of him… Louis, was it?”  

“Yeah, Louis. Lucky you, Louis. You got yourself a pretty new owner, huh?”  

“Louis…”  

Yvonne repeated the name quietly. ‘How could I have mistaken this dog for myself? Am I really losing my mind?’ She bit down hard on her lip.

The evening breeze was pleasantly cool. Just being out in the garden seemed to ease the tightness in her chest. As Yvonne gazed up at the sunset-streaked sky, a loud, booming bark shattered the quiet. She instinctively turned toward the sound. Max stood holding Louis’ leash, offering a reassuring smile.  

“It’s alright. He’s just excited.”  

Yvonne gave a small nod. The dog pranced eagerly, choking himself in his haste to lunge forward. Even to her untrained eye, he looked exhilarated.  

‘Of course. He’s an animal bred to run through forests and fields. How stifling it must have been, leashed and confined to a room.’ And now his new owner was a reclusive woman who barely left her chambers. It was pitiful, watching him hobble at her sluggish pace.  

“Could we… take off his leash?”  

When Max unclipped it, Louis bounded in place before darting toward the far end of the garden. His injured leg slowed him, but he reached the large tree in no time. Then, without being called, he raced back, circling Yvonne with happy pants. A rare smile touched her lips. Watching them, Max hesitated before speaking.  

“I could… come at this time from now on–”  

“Clever dog. He already knows his mistress.”  

Max stiffened at the voice behind them, pulling Louis back a step. Nina stood there, flanked by her usual attendants–and Kyle. The sight of his rigid expression made Yvonne’s pupils tremble. She forced herself to meet Nina’s gaze instead.  

“I wondered if Logan had been frivolous, but it seems Louis suits you.”  

‘If she disapproves, will he be taken away and killed?’ Yvonne answered quickly.  

“Yes. I like him.”  

Nina responded with a polished smile before turning away. Kyle followed but glanced back once. Yvonne pretended not to notice, though the back of her neck prickled. A chill ran through her; she hugged her arms. Max draped his coat over her shoulders, and she cautiously caught his outstretched hand.  

His large fingers trembled slightly. ‘He always does that.’ Yet he never seemed afraid or repulsed by her. Kyle’s words echoed in her mind– ‘No one will ever choose you.’ Her mood sank inexplicably, and she lowered her head.  

“Are you cold? Should we go in?”  

She nodded faintly. ‘Right. His kindness is just what a decent man would offer the young lady of his household–nothing more. What was I even hoping for?’ Her small shoulders slumped.

* * *

A faint metallic jingling came from the door. Normally, it would have been too quiet to notice, but it instantly seized Alexander’s attention. He rose immediately.

Whoever was outside clearly hadn’t expected the door to be locked from the inside. The handle rattled as someone struggled with it, followed by a frustrated grunt. Then, realizing something was wrong, they hesitated. A cautious knock followed.

“B-Brother…?”

Alexander yanked the door open before she could finish. A pale woman stood there, staring up at him with wide eyes, her small hands fidgeting nervously. Just the sight of her made his throat tighten. For a second, he nearly pulled her into a rough embrace.

“…”

Unlike usual, Yvonne didn’t immediately cling to him. Or was this the real her? Alexander studied her face carefully.

At first, he’d thought she just had peculiar tastes. But now it was clear–his sister had two distinct personalities. One timid and withdrawn, the other consumed by insatiable desire. The latter was undeniably abnormal.

Right. The sane Yvonne wouldn’t come to his room in the dead of night wearing nothing but a flimsy nightgown. This was the other one. His gaze slid over the translucent fabric, then darkened.

“Where are your shoes?”

Yvonne blinked dumbly and looked down. Her left foot was clad in a slipper, but her right was bare. She couldn’t remember if she’d lost it on the way or never put it on. But Alexander didn’t care about that. His question had another meaning–

“Yvonne?”

She hastily kicked off the remaining slipper and dropped to her knees.

“I’m sorry… Forgive me…”

“…”

How dare a dog wear human shoes? He must be furious.

Logan had said Alexander was a terrifying master–one who’d kill without hesitation if disobeyed. But to Yvonne, being abandoned by him was far worse. She couldn’t remember when or why she’d started believing that, but the fear was absolute.

And now, this stupid mistake might make him cast her aside. What do I do? Her vision blurred.

Then, her world tilted. A large hand patted her back. She clung to Alexander’s neck desperately. He sighed, exasperated, but she didn’t care.

Hoisting her up with one arm, he carried her to the bathroom, effortlessly lifting a wooden chair along the way. He set her down, but when he stepped back, she gasped and grabbed his sleeve.

“I–I messed up, don’t throw me away…!”

“…”

She burst into tears. Alexander frowned. Tonight, she seemed worse than usual. Still, when he stroked her head and told her to wait, she nodded obediently.

Behind him, Yvonne struggled to stifle her sobs. Moving quickly, he filled a basin with warm water and set it before her. As she dipped her feet in, she trembled, gripping his shoulders tightly–as if afraid he’d vanish. The thought almost made him smirk.

He washed her feet carefully, noting how large they were for her frame. Compared to his own, they were delicate, but they might’ve matched a boy her size.

If Yvonne hadn’t been born with white hair and red eyes… if she’d grown up under proper parents, basking in sunlight… she might’ve been taller, brighter. She wouldn’t hunch her shoulders or hide in the castle’s depths.

No–she’d have married into some respectable branch of the Schmidts by now. Maybe even to him.

“Ah…!”

When his finger slid between her toes, she whimpered. He glanced up. Her pale face was flushed. From the warm water? Or–

“Nngh… Ah…!”

Pressing into her arch made her squirm. Her breath hitched, carrying a faint, sweet scent. Unable to resist, she slipped a hand under her nightgown, kneading her br*ast. The soft flesh yielded under her touch.

Alexander kissed her ankle. The skin was raw from ill-fitting shoes, the metallic tang of blood lingering. He licked a slow stripe up her calf, and she shuddered.

“Does it hurt?”

Instead of answering, she rubbed between her legs. Her fingers came away slick. Messy. When she nodded, blushing, he trailed his hand higher, kissing her knee.

A brush against her cl*t sent pl*asure crackling through her. She couldn’t hold back. Spreading her legs, she circled the swollen nub. His gaze dropped, and her entrance pulsed, gushing w*tness.

“M-Master… I’m leaking… all down my thighs…”

Amused, Alexander lifted her. Her vulgar words didn’t irritate him anymore. If anything, he pitied her–tomorrow, she’d remember this and be mortified.

Just a little. Only slightly. But it was pity. Not that he’d stop. He wasn’t that noble. And besides, he’d grown fond of this version of her.

He set her on the bed and stripped. Every movement rippled with trained muscle. Yvonne stiffened at the sight of his erect*on straining against his clothes–but she couldn’t look away. He smirked.

Patting his knee, he guided her to straddle him. Face-to-face, she spread her legs wider, settling over his thighs. His c*ck twitched against her folds, and she shuddered, exhaling sharply.

Slender arms looped around his neck. Unable to wait, she rocked her hips, grinding her w*tness against him. The lewd squelch of their skin filled the room. He gripped her a$s, helping her move, and she moaned.

“Haah… nngh… Master, your c*ck… so hot…”

“You like it?”

“Y-Yes…! I love it… ah…!”

He pulled her close. Her small frame fit perfectly against him. The scent of her hair oil mingled with her natural musk–light, almost sweet.

When did she become like this? If Sebastian knew, he’d have locked her underground, screaming about demonic possession. This madness was recent.

Until lately, mental illness had been incurable. Doctors either sedated patients or strapped them to beds. But a Salouf physician recently claimed brain surgery could cure it. Rumor said he’d succeeded multiple times.

Alexander was skeptical, but if Yvonne worsened, calling a doctor might be worth considering.

“Ah–! Haaah…!”

She came with a broken cry. Alexander exhaled heavily. I’ll explode soon. Lifting her hips, he sheathed himself in one thrust. Her mouth fell open.

Her soaked walls welcomed him easily. He gripped her waist, slamming up into her, and she writhed, sobbing. Short nails scraped his shoulders.

“Ah–Brother…! Nngh…!”

Tears streamed down her face. Seeing it, his thoughts scattered. Emptying his mind, he pulled her closer, losing himself in her heat.

* * *

As Nina perused the notebook, Kyle studied the man standing beside her. His gaze was openly scrutinizing, but Ralph–either accustomed to such looks or simply indifferent–showed no reaction.  

‘An unpleasant man.’ And not just because of his exotic, dark-skinned features. It was his expressionless face and sullen demeanor, speaking to no one but Nina, that grated on Kyle. Not that a slave being overly friendly would’ve been any better.  

This slave, Ralph, had begun attending to Nina shortly after shedding the last vestiges of childhood–around the time she lost her first husband. The timing alone was enough to fuel whispers.  

But this was Schmidt County, where even the living could vanish without a sound. Most commoners didn’t even know what Yvonne looked like, despite her unforgettable appearance. No one dared gossip recklessly about Nina. A few imprudent outsiders had wagged their tongues, but they quickly fell silent. Now, no one spoke of the foreign slave with the striking features.  

For a ruler, it was an ideal environment. But Kyle had loathed Schmidt County since childhood. Until recently, he’d simply chalked it up to disliking its stifling atmosphere.  

“Did you look inside?”  

Kyle nodded honestly. Had he not peeked into the notebook, he wouldn’t have brought it to Nina in the first place.  

Logan, a congenial figure, had quickly won the favor of fellow knights, and Kyle–heir to a prominent vassal family–soon became close enough to visit his quarters. Logan’s study was cluttered with familiar lab equipment and medical texts.  

There, Kyle had stumbled upon a notebook filled with familiar terminology. It documented drug combinations, dosages, and corresponding physical reactions. In short, it was a record of experiments on mind-altering substances–and their effects on human subjects.  

Had Kyle not been the heir of House Blasiha, he might’ve dismissed the notes as the ravings of a madman. Or worse, failed to comprehend them entirely.  

But as the future head of the family that had long stood closest to the Schmidts, he’d been taught the dark arts his ancestors had practiced alongside them. He’d even studied pharmacology and medicine to better serve the Schmidts.  

Back then, Kyle had vowed never to engage in such horrific experiments. Over time, the details had faded from his memory.  

Until recently, that knowledge had seemed irrelevant. The fact that Logan–not Nina or Alexander–possessed the notebook was unsettling, but hardly something worth interfering over.  

Then he saw Yvonne’s name scrawled in the latter pages, and his stomach dropped. He’d hoped it was a mistake–until the day he walked in on Logan pinning her down in that room.  

His fists clenched. In the insular world of Schmidt Castle, confronting this head-on would be futile. The only solution was to enlist someone with greater power.  

“If this is true… Logan has committed a grave offense. He must be punished.”  

Kyle didn’t trust Nina either. He hadn’t expected the Schmidts to act justly. He’d come to her only because she was marginally more sympathetic to Yvonne than Alexander. At best, he hoped she’d send Logan away to the capital for “studies.”  

“More importantly, wouldn’t it be wise to separate the young lady from the young master? If word of these experiments reaches Lord Sebastian…”  

Nina smiled, studying Kyle. The young knight was trying hard to appear calculating, but his intentions were transparent. Still, she humored him.  

“If only there were a man to take Yvonne off our hands…”  

Kyle visibly tensed at her offhand remark. Nina feigned a grave expression.  

“Let me be blunt. Does your house have a suitable match for Yvonne? Someone who can shield that poor girl from prying eyes?”  

Watching Kyle’s Adam’s apple bob, Nina nearly laughed.  

“I’m well aware of Yvonne’s… flaws. The Schmidts would actively support her marriage. If necessary… yes, we could even offer an heirship.”  

Kyle’s shock was poorly concealed. Nina pressed on, coaxing.  

“Alexander has refused to marry. Everyone knows Logan isn’t fit to be Count. We’ve been considering adopting an heir–but wouldn’t it be better if Yvonne, the late Count’s own daughter, bore one?”  

“Why would His Lordship–”  

“That’s a personal matter.”  

“…”  

In his prime–before his sons began dropping like flies–Sebastian had been a formidable figure, building a vast trade network in mere years. Alexander had heard the stories daily, alternating between grandparents.  

If he’d never shown interest in women, that would be one thing. But for a newly minted Count to suddenly avoid them? There had to be a reason. He pretended not to care about his grandfather’s tragedy, but it clearly haunted him. Nina smirked inwardly, imagining her arrogant eldest son, who always looked down on her with that impassive face.  

“Of course, Yvonne’s husband would need to be… suitable. He could very well succeed Alexander. For instance… what about you?”