“Of course?”
Dietrich’s words sounded as if he had expected her to run away.
Celia glared at Dietrich, meeting his gaze directly.
From beginning to end, Dietrich had only intended to use her.
Therefore, wherever she went was her own business—Dietrich had no right to interfere.
‘He taught me dagger techniques, surely just to lower my guard.’
Celia did not trust Dietrich. She reproached herself for ever having harbored even a trace of hope toward him.
Dietrich looked down at Celia, who remained wary, with an unwavering gaze.
The knights who had been searching nearby had completely vanished, perhaps fearing they might incur Dietrich’s wrath.
Not a sound of wind or footsteps could be heard—momentarily, it felt as if time itself had stopped.
“Celia.”
In the silent stillness, Dietrich’s low voice resonated.
His voice, calling her false name, was unnecessarily sensual.
As Dietrich stepped forward, the distance between them narrowed even further.
Leaning one arm against a stone pillar, Dietrich quietly looked down at Celia.
Her reflection filled his crimson eyes.
That gaze felt like a cat observing a mouse, and Celia gripped her dagger so tightly that her veins stood out.
“Don’t take even a single step from there. If you consider me even slightly your master.”
Even as she spoke, Celia thought it absurd.
Dietrich halted.
“Master?”
He tilted his head slightly. As he did, a deep shadow fell across the bridge of his nose.
“Yes… master.”
Dietrich murmured the word as if savoring it, then slowly closed and reopened his eyes.
“Return to the stables. I say this for your sake, as your master.”
Celia didn’t even pretend to listen to Dietrich’s words.
She rolled her eyes, scanning the surroundings.
Lavender trees were sparsely planted around the fountain adorned with an angel statue.
Between the neatly trimmed trees, pristine white sculptures gleamed brightly in the sunlight.
Having confirmed that no one was around, Celia took one step forward.
“Just go back to the stables while I’m still speaking kindly. Unless you wish to incur my anger.”
At Dietrich’s threat, Celia shot him a furious glare.
“The Emperor must have controlled you this way too—pretending to care, pretending to worry, though you were never truly regarded as master.”
“……”
“It’s truly disgusting beyond words.”
Dietrich said nothing. Seeing his silence, Celia let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
Anywhere would be better than staying beside this man, whose intentions remained inscrutable.
Celia tried to walk past Dietrich.
At that very moment, scorching sunlight poured onto Celia’s face.
Almost simultaneously with her squinting, Dietrich’s shadow fell over her.
Where the blinding afterimage of the sun had cleared, Dietrich stood clad in black armor.
“…You know nothing.”
Dietrich continued, looking down at the dagger in Celia’s hand.
“You don’t know at all how dangerous this place is.”
At Dietrich’s calm tone, Celia felt something surge up from within.
“Just as you say, I know nothing. Because no one has ever told me anything.”
“……”
“A body destined to die within a year—what does it matter what becomes of me? Just leave me be.”
Dietrich’s eyes narrowed.
“How can it not matter? You are my master.”
Celia let out a soft, mocking laugh and closed her eyes.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
His suggestion that she had intended to escape was wrong.
Because, from the start, Celia had nowhere to run to.
She was simply utterly sick of Dietrich, who only thought of using her.
Back at the viscount’s estate, she had been a means of profit for the mother and daughter, the object of countless men’s desires.
Even here in the palace, it was the same.
People always only thought of using her.
Dietrich before her was no different. Even if he didn’t desire her, his intent to use her was no different from that of the Brillion women.
Celia spoke in a soft, soothing voice, as if calming a child.
“Do you need my ability that badly? If so, I can give it to you.”
With her free hand—the one not holding the dagger—Celia caressed Dietrich’s neck.
The wound she had inflicted still remained visible over the black armor. The blood had long since stopped, but the scar remained.
Celia’s hand on Dietrich’s neck slowly traced up to his tightly clenched jaw.
His composed, dignified gaze remained completely unmoved, unaffected by her touch.
Eventually, Celia’s soft hand reached Dietrich’s pale pink lips.
Seeing his tightly pressed lips slightly crushed, Celia thought:
With barely a year of life left, she had almost no time.
‘As if a year matters—surviving half a year longer here would be a miracle.’
After killing the Emperor, his son now coveted her, reducing her to the status of a mere concubine.
Just as she had killed his father, perhaps she could use her ability to kill the Crown Prince too.
But doing so would sever the Abelon imperial bloodline—yet it would also permanently erase any chance of uncovering her true enemy.
“Are the Three Grand Dukes really my true enemy? How can I believe you, when all you ever think of is using me?”
The so-called Brillion Angel, praised by others, was nothing but an illusion. Beneath it lay Celia, her insides rotten and decayed, sharpening the blade of revenge.
Revealing her true intentions would be foolish.
‘If I kiss you here, how will you react?’
Though she had claimed to be Dietrich’s master, in truth, she possessed nothing.
With the Crown Prince having publicly declared her his concubine, she had no idea when Dietrich might change his attitude and turn a blade against her.
Celia felt the need to clearly determine whether Dietrich would conspire with her or not.
‘If you can willingly accept what I’m about to do…’
Sometimes, a single action reveals one’s true heart more than a hundred words.
Therefore, what she was about to do was not merely a kiss.
It was a test she was giving him.
A test to decide whether she could trust him or not.
A test from someone pushed to the edge of a cliff.
If Dietrich passed this test, Celia intended to listen to him—at least to some extent.
To act on her thoughts, Celia withdrew her hand from his lips.
She tucked the dagger she had been holding into her clothing.
Dietrich silently observed her actions.
Celia pulled at his sleeve and pressed her lips to his.
Soft lips met, then warm breath flowed in.
As if urging her to part her lips, the soft lips gently bit into his.
Dietrich was momentarily flustered, but quickly realized what Celia was thinking.
Celia had never done something so out of character unless she had a reason.
Dietrich realized she was testing him.
As Dietrich parted his lips, their warm breaths intertwined between them.
Celia expected Dietrich to push her away any moment.
But he acted completely contrary to her expectations.
Dietrich allowed Celia to freely explore within him.
Moreover, he lowered his head to make it easier for her to kiss him.
Celia realized he had understood—she was testing him.
Celia embraced his neck, almost accusingly.
For an instant, she felt Dietrich’s body stiffen.
Now, she thought, he would finally push her away.
No matter how much he needed her ability, he surely couldn’t endure this.
Celia pulled his neck closer with all her strength, stealing his breath.
Yet again, Dietrich did not push her away. He simply remained still.
He silently allowed her to freely indulge in his breath, in his saliva.
Something felt terribly wrong.
It was strange—that he didn’t push her away. And that his saliva tasted overly sweet.
As she kissed him, it almost felt as if vitality was returning to her weary body.
Celia dismissed the thought as mere fancy.
After several minutes passed and Dietrich still didn’t push her away as she expected, Celia broke the kiss first.
As their lips parted, a thin thread of saliva stretched between them.
Opening her eyes, she saw Dietrich’s face—utterly impassive.
Not even his earlobes turned red, his gaze remained calm and completely unruffled.
He hadn’t pushed her away.
But that was all. He had known she was testing him, and had simply endured it, suppressing his dislike.
For a brief moment, Celia felt foolish for having tested Dietrich in such a way, and bit her lip.
Celia began to loosen the arms she had wrapped around his neck.
Then, Dietrich suddenly wrapped one arm around Celia’s waist.
Confused, Celia looked up at him.
On Dietrich’s face, which she had thought only capable of calmness, an unfamiliar emotion flickered—something she had never seen before.
It seemed like anger, yet also confusion, or perhaps raw emotion—a tangled mix of hatred and murderous intent.
Celia thought Dietrich might kill her.
But instead, he did exactly what she had done—he kissed her.
Her lips, pressed together, slightly parted at the contact of their breath.
Taking this as permission, Dietrich began to explore her mouth just as she had done to him.
Their breaths entwined, their breathing merged into one.
With his other hand—free from holding her waist—Dietrich gently cradled the back of her neck.
Clearly, this kiss had begun from suspicion, from the inability to trust one another.
Celia was bewildered by Dietrich’s actions. Was he furious because she dared to test him?
Celia turned her head, trying to avoid Dietrich’s breath.
But Dietrich did not let her go.
His controlled breathing gradually grew rougher with each passing moment.
The man who had initially been courteous and gentlemanly now seemed thoroughly enraged, violently exploring her mouth.
Along with the rough breath, something soft pressed deeper into her mouth.
Again and again, endlessly, as if time itself had stopped.
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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