Trampled and Broken (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 37
Huh.
Gasps echoed from all around at that bombshell declaration.
Hestia was just as shocked.
‘What do you mean, “with me”?’
Her heart seemed to stop for a moment before starting again, as if all the blood in her body had rushed straight to her head.
‘Didn’t I… reject your proposal?’
Hestia turned her face toward Aslan’s chest to hide it from Anetsa and the other nobles.
Aslan stiffened slightly, as though her soft sigh had stirred the fabric of his clothes.
He already felt rigid—but now he seemed even stiffer.
Yet, in Aslan’s arms, Hestia felt an unparalleled sense of calm.
After swallowing hard and briefly steadying his breath, Aslan spoke again.
His voice had grown even more clipped as he addressed Anetsa.
“That should be answer enough.”
“Did you just… say what I think you said? Are you claiming you’re Saint Hestia’s fiancé?”
“You heard correctly. Is there something strange about that?”
Anetsa exhaled sharply, her voice tinged with irritation.
“Strange? Of course it’s strange!”
Aslan shrugged nonchalantly.
“I don’t see why. Everyone knows the princess was looking for a marriage partner—and she chose me. I happen to be unmarried as well, so I don’t see any issue.”
Anetsa, looking utterly flabbergasted, kept firing questions.
“Does His Majesty the King know? The temple hasn’t said a word!”
“Well, naturally. I was planning to announce it tomorrow.”
Aslan replied coolly, shamelessly unfazed.
Then, with an impatient scowl—as if he’d run out of time to spare—he snapped,
“Are you going to interrogate me all night? If Her Highness’s health worsens because of this, will you take responsibility?”
Only then did Anetsa start glancing around at the other nobles.
She realized that if she kept holding Hestia here, the situation would look truly suspicious—and she might even face backlash. Reluctantly, she bit her lip and stepped aside for Aslan.
“For now… please take her. Her Highness’s health comes first.”
“Oh, how generous of you.”
Aslan twisted his lips sarcastically, mocking her for yielding so quickly and trying to take credit.
“Then we’ll take our leave.”
He began walking away, still holding Hestia.
Of course, he didn’t look back.
[This is the timeline separator]Hestia slowly steadied her breathing while nestled in Aslan’s arms.
Strangely, the farther they moved from the banquet hall where Anetsa remained, the better she began to feel.
It almost felt as if she’d been feigning illness.
After catching her breath for a moment, she finally spoke—her voice hoarse.
“Is it true?”
“What is?”
“Are you really… going to marry me?”
Aslan hesitated to answer.
He’d blurted those words out only to get Hestia out of the banquet hall.
But then a thought suddenly struck him.
Could I really watch this woman marry someone else without losing my mind?
Just imagining it made his teeth clench involuntarily.
He clicked his tongue unconsciously.
She was the kind of woman whose very existence drove him utterly mad—Hestia.
He glanced down at her.
Meeting her earnest gaze, he could tell she was genuinely serious about marriage.
Aslan momentarily avoided answering.
Then, out of nowhere, he thought, ‘Why not?’
‘Whether I actually go through with it or not.’
For now, buying time seemed like a good idea.
‘Even if I accept her proposal, the King and the temple will surely block a marriage with someone like me.’
Once they interfered enough, her enthusiasm would fade—and he could let her go as if giving up.
Aslan was disgusted with his own pettiness.
Yet, part of him justified it.
‘Aren’t I the only one who’s allowed to treat her this way?’
Hestia owed him a debt, and since he couldn’t forgive her, he wanted to punish her like this.
So he smoothly lied.
“Do you think I’d say no in this situation?”
At his gruff, blunt reply, Hestia responded in a tiny, almost inaudible voice.
“Thank you… for changing your mind.”
Her sincere gratitude made Aslan’s heart ache strangely.
He stole another glance at her—and saw she’d already closed her eyes, leaning against him.
“What? Are you sleeping?”
Her lips parted faintly.
“I’m just keeping them closed. I don’t have the strength to keep them open.”
It was a whisper, like a sigh.
Aslan pinched her cheek lightly.
He’d already noticed how feather-light she felt when he picked her up—but how had she survived to the point of lacking even the strength to lift her eyelids?
He wanted to demand answers: What kind of body did she have? What did she even eat to stay alive?
But she was unwell.
No matter how ruthless he was, he always tempered his behavior according to the other person’s condition.
So he swallowed the harsh words rising in his throat.
With a few long strides, he carried her out of the building entirely.
Behind them, through the quiet, deserted garden, a single figure followed.
It was Dean, Aslan’s aide who’d accompanied him to the evening banquet.
Stunned by Aslan’s bombshell announcement, Dean had quickly gathered his wits and trailed after them.
Looking as if he wanted to say something, Dean pursed his lips—then locked eyes with Hestia, who peeked over Aslan’s shoulder.
In that instant, his face twisted unpleasantly, and he turned away sharply, clearly annoyed.
‘…Ah.’
Embarrassed, Hestia squirmed and buried her face deeper into Aslan’s chest.
Only then did Aslan notice his aide trailing behind. Frowning, he jerked his chin.
“Go prepare the carriage. We’re leaving.”
“…Yes, my lord.”
Dean answered quietly and swiftly departed.
Now alone again, Aslan spoke.
“Where should we go now?”
He meant to ask which palace Hestia was staying in.
Expecting directions, he was instead met with a completely unexpected reply.
“Let’s go to your mansion.”
“…What?”
When Aslan asked in a bewildered tone, Hestia—who’d been nestled against him—peeked up and met his eyes directly.
“You said you’d marry me. So tonight, sleep with me. Otherwise, His Majesty and the temple will surely interfere.”
Hestia stated her opinion firmly, then paused briefly before glancing up at him and adding softly,
“Or you’ll change your mind by tomorrow.”
Aslan’s expression twisted in disbelief.
It felt as if she’d read his thoughts perfectly—and it both pricked his conscience and soured his mood.
Without answering yes or no, he simply threw the question back at her.
“Have you forgotten that I hate the princess?”
Hestia’s eyes drooped slightly.
She gave a faint, sorrowful smile and replied quietly,
“Of course not. I know it very well.”
At her clear, straightforward answer, Aslan—who’d been momentarily stunned—let out a hollow laugh.
“And yet you still want to sleep with me?”
His low voice seeped helplessly into her ears, wrapping around her.
Instead of answering, Hestia slowly nodded.
Aslan laughed silently.
“What terrible taste you have.”
Still held in his arms, Hestia felt every subtle vibration of his laughter through their touching bodies.
She held her breath, bewildered by how such a faint tremor could shake her so deeply.
Aslan continued.
“Since everyone calls me a barbarian, do you really see me as some beast?”
Despite his blunt words, he didn’t seem particularly offended.
Hestia sighed lightly and chided him.
“Don’t assume things I haven’t said out loud.”
“But isn’t that exactly what you implied? I’m not some shameless brute who’d take advantage of an unwell woman.”
Hestia spoke quickly, her voice tinged with urgency.
She didn’t want to give Aslan any excuse to run away after she’d finally made up her mind.
“If you’re worried about my condition, don’t be. I can manage.”
He looked down at her incredulously for a moment before scoffing.
“Sure you can.”
“…I mean it.”
Faced with Hestia’s unyielding stubbornness, Aslan shook his head, utterly baffled.
Then, still holding her, he started walking somewhere—his steps oddly furious.
To keep from falling, Hestia clung to him more tightly.
And Aslan never asked again which palace she was staying in.
[This is the timeline separator]The two boarded the carriage Dean had prepared.
They didn’t exchange a single word during the ride.
Aslan sat facing backward, arms crossed, eyes closed.
Because of that, Hestia could properly study his face.
Of course, the carriage wasn’t bright at all.
The only light came from a small lantern hanging on the wall.
Even straining in that dim glow, she could barely make out where his face was or whether his arms were crossed.
‘But it’s strange.’
Aslan’s features pierced through the darkness, radiating a distinct presence.
Rattle, rattle.
Each jolt of the carriage made the flame flicker, shifting the shadows.
And with every movement, the man’s expression changed.
He probably knew she was staring at him.
Male lead fell into her trap — and shattered when she walked away
This is also on my reread list!
This one is a slow burn, but when it burns, it burns hard.
Definitely worth a read, y’all!
The story follows a thousand-year-old seductive spirit who, on a bet, sets out to charm the male lead—a once-promising but unfortunate cultivator.
But just when she succeeds in making him fall for her, she heartlessly leaves, driving him to madness.
Determined to find her at all costs, he captures her, keeping her by his side no matter what, even if she hates him.
I love this kind of trope—I enjoy watching the male lead suffer in agony.
The ending drags a bit with unnecessary filler, but that’s fine.
As long as I enjoy the beginning, I’m good.
Intro
As an enchantress, Su Heng possesses captivating eyes and charming beauty, easily manipulating the joys and sorrows of living beings at her fingertips.
But to enchant a god, making him taste the bitterness of love’s separation, long-lasting resentment, unattainable desires, and inability to let go…
Do you dare?
Su Heng assists a divine lord in his cultivation, aiming to make him experience all the sufferings of love, so that he can attain the Great Dao.
Only after being chased down from the heavens by the divine lord, confined and completely possessed by him, does she realize how successful she has been.
The once gentle and polite youth has transformed into someone she no longer recognizes.
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