SOTBW - 17

From somewhere, the sound of waves could be heard. Najane slowly lifted her head after closing her eyes. The torches held by the soldiers flickered nervously in the strong wind. Screams echoed from all directions as people ran toward the few ships in the harbor.

She paused to look at a child sobbing in an alley, then turned around at the sharp, acrid smell that stung her eyes.

The royal palace was on fire. Enormous flames, like the tongue of a monster, engulfed the palace and advanced toward the city. On the roof of the three-story building, Seriths could be seen. One of them, a limping old man, was pinned to the ground by a Serith who mercilessly tore at his neck. A painful scream echoed in the air. Najane couldn’t understand what was happening.

At that moment, someone ruthlessly grabbed her hand. She stifled a moan as she was dragged away. A knight with platinum blonde hair, who almost looked like silver, was pulling her—Mikael.

“…Mikael?”

Najane called his name in a dazed voice.

“Miss, we must board the ship. It’s not too late. Lady Luna is already on board. Please, hurry!”

Mikael urged her, unlike his usual self. Fortunately, the two of them soon reached the ship. People, trying to escape the advancing Seriths, scrambled to board the vessel. Mikael struck at anyone in their way with his sheathed sword, forcing Najane onto the ship.

Najane saw Luna, crying on the deck. Terrified, Najane barely managed to get on the ship. The crew chopped the gangplank with an axe to prevent anyone else from boarding. The large ship slowly pulled away from the dock.

“Mikael! No, Mikael, please! Please!”

Luna, clinging to the railing, wailed and reached out her hand, as if searching for her lost parents. Only then did Najane look back at Mikael. Those who failed to board the ship fell to the beach like grains of sand.

Mikael stood there, waving with a gentle smile on his face. People, desperately fighting to survive, were caught one by one by the Seriths, torn apart like paper or eaten alive.

Najane, realizing the horror, embraced Luna to shield her from the sight. She too squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the sound of the waves. Only then did she remember what had happened to Mikael, whom she had once looked up to like a father.

Luna clutched the hem of Najane’s clothes and cried bitterly. Najane, forcing back her own tears, held her younger sister tightly. Nellis was dead. She had gone to the royal palace to save the king and queen from the Seriths but fell prey to them along with Queen Audelica, who had given up hope.

Yes, she had witnessed it all and fled. After hearing that the Seriths were sequentially capturing border cities and advancing toward the royal castle, she had gone to the palace with Nellis, hoping to help.

But neither Nellis nor Najane could enter the palace. Queen Audelica had ordered Nellis’ confinement. The reason was simple: Nellis had broken her vow of purity that she had sworn to the queen long ago.

Najane could never forget the tortured, pained expression on Nellis’ face at that moment. Audelica knew everything. She knew that the two girls, Najane and Luna, whom Nellis had adopted, were actually daughters of Lyon, hidden princesses.

The army led by Lyon had tried to hold back the Seriths, but it was annihilated in the blink of an eye. Audelica concealed the fact that Lyon had died. The fall of the Kingdom of Elgort had been inevitable, so there was no need to struggle to survive.

Audelica cursed Nellis, who had betrayed their friendship and broken the vow of purity, and died. Thus, Nellis was recorded as a dishonored swordmaster, too afraid of the Seriths to draw her sword, and was devoured alive.

Listening to Luna’s cries, Najane gazed at the distant city. The royal castle, engulfed in flames, shone like a star in the darkness. But there was no hope there.

Left alone with Luna, Najane trembled in fear as she thought of Nellis and Mikael’s tragic ends. But she forced herself to suppress her terror, determined to protect her only remaining family. Yet the overwhelming fear continued to surround Najane. If she were to lose Luna in this terrifying world…

“Lady Emaydis!”

At that moment, someone called Najane’s name. It was a maid who had worked at the Powley household. Behind the maid, familiar faces appeared. They were all retainers who had served Nellis. As soon as Najane saw them, her anxiety melted away like snow.

Only then did Najane allow herself to cry, holding Luna. In truth, she didn’t want to cry. She was aware that all of this was just a dream. These people were demons who had sold her and Luna into slavery.

Najane desperately wanted to wake from the dream, but she couldn’t bear to separate herself from Luna, who was crying in her arms. It had been so long since she had seen that face.

Whenever someone with platinum blonde hair, as beautiful as Luna, passed by, Najane would unknowingly stare at them, and whenever she heard a voice similar to Luna’s, she would turn back to search for that person.

Luna was Najane’s only reason for living. Najane kept longing for her younger sister, blaming herself. If only she hadn’t followed them that day, if only she had doubted it, if only she had tried to protect Luna without relying on anyone…

Najane, weeping with guilt, opened her eyes. Through the rain-streaked ceiling, sunlight flickered like curtains swaying in the wind. Perhaps it was because she had been crying in the dream, her head ached.

Breathing heavily, Najane rose to her feet. Her legs were damp. Panicked, Najane hurriedly pulled the blanket away. The pants she wore were soaked, and her body felt slick with moisture. Only then did she realize what had happened to her.

A throbbing pain, so intense it felt like bruising, pulsed in her breasts, and her nipples were so hard and sensitive that even the slightest brush of her clothes was agonizing.

Najane exhaled a hot breath and closed her eyes. It was heat. A sensation she had forgotten for a while, an unwanted feeling, crawled up from her lower mound like insects.

Najane staggered out of bed. Her cheeks burned as if she had a fever. She didn’t need to see her reflection to know what she looked like.

She had let her guard down. Because she hadn’t experienced heat during the battles on the field, she had mistakenly thought she would be fine for a while.

Barely managing to get off the bed, Najane collapsed onto the cold floor. Her back was clammy with sweat. Her body slowly began to heat up.

She instinctively reached under her pillow for the tranquilizers, only to remember that Maximón had burned them.

Kneeling, Najane buried her face in the bed, clenching her teeth. She could feel a slick fluid flowing endlessly between her legs. She felt ashamed and horrified by the situation. She sobbed like a child and rose from the floor. Her entire body was burning hot, and she couldn’t feel her hands and feet.

Najane gasped for breath, her back hunched over. She barely managed to open the door, and the cold air brushed against her flushed face. Thankfully, there was no one in the hallway. It was a stroke of good fortune. She felt like she could collapse anywhere, like a dog, and masturbate.

But she didn’t want to do that. Thanks to the etiquette training she had received for a considerable time as a noble lady, she was barely maintaining her reason, but if she dragged out this heat any longer, she would surely go mad. She would undoubtedly cling to anyone and beg them to hold her.

Najane forced her blurring eyes open and bit down hard on her lower lip. Drops of blood dripped from her numb lips. Supporting herself against the wall, she walked and weakly knocked on the door of the next room. Unfortunately, there was only one person who could help Najane in this situation.

________________________________________

Maximón sat in a worn leather chair, reading a letter sent by Edwin. The letter was filled with details about the politically complex situation in the royal capital, the funds sent to Noctis Fortress by the nobles, and warm regards for Maximón.

Edwin deliberately avoided mentioning Lucas in the letter. Edwin knew that the relationship between the two had deteriorated rapidly since Maximón began to make a name for himself at Noctis Fortress.

Maximón neatly folded the letter in half and placed it in a jewelry box, tilting his head back. The main content of the letter was that the kingdom’s finances were on the verge of collapse, but Edwin had certainly not failed to mention that he would support the war even if it meant emptying the entire Elgort family fortune.

It was because of Lucas. Lucas had come down to Noctis Fortress to live a luxurious life, trying to hinder Maximón in any way possible. Naturally, all that money came from Edwin’s pocket.

To Edwin, Maximón and Lucas were not equally precious sons. Maximón knew this. The day he would truly monopolize Edwin’s affection, surpassing Lucas, the true heir of the Elgort family, would never come.

He knew this better than anyone, but Maximón couldn’t easily give up on Edwin’s love. If Edwin’s wife, Roseanne, were alive, he might have been obsessed with maternal love.

Becoming Edwin’s “real son” was Maximón’s goal. Maximón was always empty. Maximón didn’t know the reason.

Could it be that being abandoned as soon as he was born was still holding Maximón back?

That wasn’t it. He had no interest in the parents who gave birth to him. All beings are born empty. They simply live their lives in their own way, constantly filling and emptying something within themselves.

But Maximón didn’t understand that. Knowing how much Edwin loved and supported Lucas, he couldn’t give up on that relationship because if he didn’t cling to and depend on such things, he would doubt whether he was really human.

Human life is a continuous cycle of suffering. However, Maximón didn’t know suffering. Suffering is something only those who know happiness and joy can understand. He had never found any meaning in his life.

What meaning was there in cheap love, meager friendship, and loyalty that changed according to power?

At least, Maximón received some positive feeling from Edwin, who never gave up on the pathetic Lucas. That was fatherly love. So he decided to win Edwin’s fatherly love. At least, while doing so, he felt like a fairly ordinary person.

‘Yes, so I accepted the Commander’s offer. It’s because I have a completely weak personality.’

At that moment, Najane came to Maximón’s mind in the quietness of his thoughts.

‘As long as the Commander wants my abilities, no one can touch me. Even if that person is Maximón Elgort.’

At that time, he had an inexplicable urge to kiss Najane, who was replying so distinctly. He thought about shutting her up by covering her lips and sucking her tongue, blocking all her words, but he stopped because he thought Najane would genuinely hate him if he did.

Maximón didn’t usually care about other people’s feelings. But he didn’t want Najane to look at him like he was a bug.

Was it because of sex? He would have to share his body with her several more times until the curse was completely gone. Honestly, his relationship with Najane was very good. If she controlled her heat through another man, he felt like he would want to kill that damn bastard.

Maximón found himself thinking about Najane.

Her smooth, pale forehead, eyelashes curving upward, eyes that shimmered ruby red when caught by the light, her small, cute nose, the way she always tried to speak politely, her slender and erect neck, her shoulders and arms that lacked any flesh, the slightly sagging shape of her chest, the concave of her lower abdomen, and the soft, water-moistened skin that looked so tender...

He still remembered the white lightning flashing from the rear while facing the swarm of Seriths. Seeing that light, Maximón instinctively understood that the situation required him to use his sword energy on Najane.

His vision blurred when he saw the Serith about to swallow her. He didn’t even remember what he had thrown to defeat the monster. When he regained his senses, he was in front of Najane.

Maximón ran his hand down his face irritably, then closed his eyes in frustration. Thinking of Najane made sleep impossible.

Knock, knock. Someone knocked on the door. Maximón answered for them to come in. But instead of anyone entering, the silence beyond the door was unusually heavy.

With a puzzled look, he opened the door. As soon as he pulled the handle, Najane collapsed into his arms.

Najane’s body was like a burning ember. In an instant, his face contorted.

“You…”

Maximón barely managed to lift the limp Najane. She couldn’t even hold her head up. Instead, she kept gasping for breath like someone who had run at full speed.

Her skin was flushed in vivid hues, her body trembling in spasms, and her lips fluttered from her rapid breathing.

Maximón, holding her waist, asked in a low voice,

“Are you in heat?”