I'll Abandon the Fake Savior (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
Yuricien hurried her steps, eager to meet Heathcliff as soon as possible. She was so excited that it didn’t even strike her as odd he’d suggested meeting at a wine bar instead of a restaurant for dinner.
“Oh, isn’t that Lady Yuricien!”
As she straightened her clothes by the door, a man emerging from inside brightened and greeted her as if they knew each other.
The man, with neatly slicked-back ash-gray hair, appeared to be in his mid-forties. His gentle eyes were striking, his warm brown irises appeared deeply sensitive and charming, and his well-groomed mustache added a dignified air. Most noticeable of all was the badge pinned to his chest.
‘So this man must be the bar’s master.’
The golden grape badge—granted only to sommeliers certified by the Heljereon Empire—suited him perfectly.
“What brings you all the way here, my lady?”
Each time the master spoke, a faint, unobtrusive clinking sound came from the tastevin hanging around his neck. He acted as though he knew Yuricien well, yet surprisingly, she had never met him before.
Not wanting to embarrass someone who pretended to know her, Yuricien nodded calmly with a composed expression.
“Is His Highness the Prince inside?”
“Yes, indeed. He’s inside. Allow me to escort you in.”
Though he’d clearly come out for some errand, the master politely offered to escort her. His demeanor was as impeccable as that of Prince Heathcliff himself.
As they walked, the master spoke in a gentle voice.
“Have you had your dinner yet?”
“Hmm, not yet.”
“Shall I prepare a small bite for you then? His Highness only requested brandy with a few simple canapés.”
“In that case, His Highness must have other plans.”
Though Yuricien, who’d eaten poorly all day—even skipping lunch—felt a sudden pang of hunger, she quickly shook her head. Perhaps this wine bar was merely their meeting place, and they’d soon move to a proper restaurant.
“I’m fine as well.”
“Understood. Should you need anything, please pull the cord at any time.”
The spot the master guided her to was deep within the wine bar—a private area. After the master bowed and left, Yuricien cleared her throat once, then gave a light knock.
“Your Highness, it is I.”
“Ah, Lady Yuricien. Please come in.”
A cheerful voice came from inside—it was Heathcliff. Though his words were slightly slurred, as if he were already drunk.
‘Now that I think of it, His Highness never held his liquor well.’
She recalled him once saying how frustrating it was that he loved wine but never seemed to build tolerance. His frustration had seemed genuine—he’d even looked sulky then. The memory was so endearing that she suddenly remembered him laughing brightly under a tree, the wind rustling through leaves with a soft whisper.
‘It hasn’t even been that long, yet it feels like a distant past.’
After all, it had only been three years since Jorgen disappeared. The pleasant memory naturally lifted the corners of Yuricien’s lips.
As she pulled the door open, a strong scent of brandy hit her. The acrid smell of several cigars lingered too, and through the dim lamplight, hazy smoke drifted visibly—evidence he’d been smoking something quite potent.
Though she’d recently witnessed many filthy and indecent scenes thanks to Kendali, Yuricien, raised as a pure and noble lady, found such decadence utterly unfamiliar.
Unsure how to act, she unconsciously furrowed her brow—when Heathcliff, half-slumped against the table, raised his hand.
“Come here, Lady Yuricien.”
His swaying posture looked thoroughly disreputable. His voice sounded even more intoxicated than it had through the door. The mysterious eyes Yuricien had once adored were now clouded with dullness.
She realized that when he was drunk and his whites turned yellowish, the center of his enigmatic eyes—normally a blend of green and blue—appeared pale sky-blue. Yet that color felt utterly alien.
So much so that the man before her hardly seemed like Heathcliff at all.
“Ah, right. That’s just who you are.”
Seeing Yuricien hesitate, Heathcliff let out an incomprehensible sound and sneered mockingly.
“A woman too proud to go anywhere without an escort.”
He muttered something lowly, but Yuricien couldn’t hear it. As she focused intently on his lips, a sudden chill ran down her spine. Though she couldn’t read his words, she sensed something terrible was about to happen.
‘But what on earth is going on?’
While she hesitated, unsure what the ominous feeling foretold, Heathcliff staggered to his feet.
“You…”
One trailing syllable, one unsteady step.
“All you have now…”
Another mocking whisper, another wobbling step.
“Is a worthless body that doesn’t even taste good—so what exactly makes you so special?”
Then, with a dagger-like remark, he took one sharp step right up to her nose.
Heathcliff, who’d been shuffling slowly, now stood so close their toes nearly touched. An unpleasantly hot wave radiated from him. He was so near her vision couldn’t focus properly, yet Yuricien stared at him blankly, as if gazing at a ghost.
Her expression grated on Heathcliff’s nerves.
“Are you fearless—or just unafraid of me?”
His thickly slurred words, laced with irritation, sounded almost like curses. She’d occasionally seen Heathcliff drunk before, but never this utterly devoid of reason. Moreover, she couldn’t grasp what he was even saying—or rather, didn’t want to.
Leaning his disheveled face close to hers, Heathcliff muttered lowly,
“Will you calm down a bit after I’ve had you once? Hmm?”
A sharp, herbal scent rose from the whispering Heathcliff. Yuricien didn’t know it was the smell of a herb used in narcotic cigars.
‘Am I… am I really…’
What had she just heard?
Could those words truly have come from Heathcliff’s mouth? Could the coachman who’d harassed her moments ago be hiding somewhere nearby? It was absurd—but she couldn’t think of any other explanation.
So shocked she forgot even how to blink, Yuricien could only gape wide-eyed like a frightened rabbit, her cheeks flushed. She dared not take a deep breath for fear her body might brush against the man so close—her chest tightened with dread…
“Kyaaah!”
Suddenly, a large hand shoved her shoulder.
Thud!
Her head and back slammed mercilessly against the now-closed door. The impact was so violent that, despite her eyes being open, everything went black. A splitting headache followed instantly.
“Ugh… Y-Your Highness…?”
Sliding down to sit on the floor, Yuricien finally looked up at Heathcliff through her slowly clearing vision. The way her sight opened from the center outward felt exactly like the gates of hell slowly parting.
“Yes. I’m the prince. The prince is me. And just who do you think you are…”
The rest was too mumbled to hear clearly. Heathcliff tossed aside his coat and settled right in front of the collapsed Yuricien. The horrifying clatter of his belt buckle being undone rang sharply in her ears. Quick thinking and swift bodily reaction were two entirely different things.
“Y-Your H-High…”
Her words wouldn’t form properly. Heathcliff looked even more senseless than before. Frantically feeling along the floor, Yuricien desperately groped behind her for the door—she had to find the handle.
‘I must escape this place.’
But Heathcliff would never allow that.
Click!
“…!”
Yuricien realized for the first time just how terrifying the sound of a locking door could be.
She swallowed hard in despair. She carried no weapon to defend herself. What woman would bring a blade when meeting the lover who’d pulled her from the abyss?
“Your Highness, please come to your senses! Just a moment…”
Yuricien tried to rise—but Heathcliff’s hand pressed down on her shoulder, and she failed.
“Ugh!”
She’d never considered herself weak before. Perhaps it was due to her meager meals ever since Jorgen vanished—she couldn’t even shake off Heathcliff’s single hand.
Swish.
Heathcliff finally pulled off his belt and tossed it aside. Yuricien’s mind went utterly blank. The thought flashed that striking his groin might buy her a chance to flee—but in the end, she couldn’t even twitch a finger.
‘But he’s His Highness…’
Tragically, her secret affection for the very man who’d saved her life held back her reason from making the right choice. She didn’t want to resign herself—but then again, another thought crept in.
‘If I… become His Highness’s woman here, could I avoid marrying the Margrave?’
Becoming Heathcliff’s woman—might that be the surest way?
She’d never imagined spending her first night with him like this. Maybe it wouldn’t be entirely terrible.
Deep despair triggered an absurdly optimistic train of thought. Even knowing it wasn’t the right answer, Yuricien closed her eyes.
Heathcliff’s hand seized Yuricien’s black hair.
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
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MANGA DISCUSSION
1 Comment
Chapter Comments (1)
How dare you, Kendali? How could you think of poisoning him the moment he returned? A witch? I didn’t expect that.
Inline Comments (2)
“Yuriciieen…!”
Not a monster, but a vile animal that knows nothing but madness.🤮
As he left the chapel, he removed the ceremonial veil from his head. Under the s
Ahaaa, so the hero thought that the other scoundrel was her savior🫢
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Rupy Rosillita
Run away! I’m disgusted by him, how can you love him?! Eww!