Chapter 44: Chains of Desire, Thorns of Sin

It was beyond her comprehension that she, a Radiant Knight who had never even known the touch of another woman, would experience her first time in such a manner—passively, subjected to a dual humiliation that scarred both her body and spirit.

Although utterly inexperienced, she had often overheard her comrades in the army—many of whom would soon perish on the battlefield—boasting and recounting such tales.

She knew, with chilling certainty, that her experiences of the previous night had been anything but normal.

Before the Madam, she had entirely lost her human dignity, reduced to an animal to be manipulated at will.

A fierce urge to resist, to refuse, had surged within her.

Yet, the irresistible compulsion of the contract forced her to yield to the Madam’s silken, tasseled whip.

Each strike burned, inflicting a searing pain that was simultaneously excruciating and yet, paradoxically, not quite unbearable.

The agony fell far short of the Thorn’s Kiss, but every lash felt as though it flayed her very soul!

With each successive strike, her head bowed lower, until she instinctively learned to let it rest by the Madam’s feet, her lips pressing against the exquisite, opulent shoe.

As for what transpired afterward…

A haze obscured her memories.

She recalled only a descent into a desperate madness, a complete surrender.

No matter how the Madam manipulated her, no matter the command, she was utterly compliant, accepting every whim without a shred of resistance.

Following that, the searing sting of humiliation seemed to vanish, replaced by a strange, exhilarating freedom that resonated deep within her soul.

Indeed, from that point on, she felt a profound comfort, a surprising ease.

Even with the collar still encircling her neck, and the iron chain still clutched in the Madam’s hand, she perceived an undeniable sense of liberation!

It was as if she had cast off every restraint, shedding the myriad shackles that had bound her throughout her past.

And then…

Which led to this very moment, as she lay sprawled, utterly naked and marked with a myriad of mottled imprints, her body limp and exhausted upon the Madam’s grand bed, dark circles shadowing her eyes.

As for the Madam…

Her long, wavy brown hair, usually impeccable, lay in disarray, and the noble, poised demeanor she typically maintained had completely vanished after the night’s fervent madness.

Aida, at this moment, resembled a weary kitten, instinctively curling up as she found a warm anchor, nestling deeply within that comforting haven—

Within the embrace of Merrow, the Esbell family’s maid, Madam Aida’s personal servant, the very woman who had unveiled her most shameful side last night.

At present, Merrow’s thoughts swirled in disarray.

She was utterly at a loss, uncertain how she could ever face the Madam again, or even young Miss Merlina.

Just at that moment, the figure nestled in her arms stirred with a soft moan, twisting slightly as she slowly began to awaken.

“Mm? Where am I…?”

Aida’s eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep.

In stark contrast to Merrow, who was visibly sleep-deprived, Aida’s spirits were remarkably buoyant!

Sitting up, Aida rubbed her eyes and surveyed her surroundings.

Her gaze then settled upon Merrow, still recumbent on the bed, completely unclothed, her exquisite figure laid bare without reservation.

Their eyes met, and Merrow, breaking the silence, offered, “Good morning…”

Her lips trembled slightly as memories of the previous night flickered through her mind, leaving her hesitant.

Yet, she ultimately uttered, “Mama.”

“Pfft…”

Hearing Merrow’s chosen address for her, Aida nearly choked on her own breath.

Her gaze then fell upon the mottled marks adorning Merrow’s body—the undeniable imprints of her own fervent madness from the night before.

Bruises, purplish welts, and dried, tell-tale stains.

In sum, every single mark was her doing.

The myriad traces on Merrow’s skin bore silent witness to the extent of Aida’s wanton abandon, her utter frenzy, throughout the previous night.

Her only lingering fear was the realization that, mercifully, she had not truly damaged Merrow’s body—there were no open wounds, no fractured bones.

Yet, even now, the collar she had bestowed remained clasped around Merrow’s neck, igniting a fresh spark of fervent desire deep within her.

Fortunately, she managed to restrain herself.

“I apologize,” Aida began, her voice tinged with regret.

“I… I was not myself last night.

In any case, you should continue to address me as Madam.”

Aida massaged her temples, utterly at a loss for how to proceed.

‘What madness had possessed her to do such things to Merrow?’ she thought, aghast.

Her gaze, unbidden, drifted towards Merrow’s perfectly sculpted figure.

It was neither fragile nor corpulent, neither towering nor diminutive.

Every curve was precisely where it ought to be, every line exquisitely slender without being gaunt.

Perhaps it was a physiological difference between spirits and humans, but even as Merrow lay supine, her magnificent bosom defied gravity, remaining firm and unyielding.

It possessed an almost ethereal, animated quality.

In this state, her limbs were still bound to the expansive bed, rendering her immobile.

The dark, thorny patterns on her wrists and ankles were starkly visible, and a portion of the same intricate design on her neck peeked out from beneath the collar.

These five thorny black markings, like five invisible collars she had imposed upon Merrow, seemed destined to eternally shackle her very soul.

Even more cruelly, the sight was far worse than when Aida had first witnessed them, half a month prior, after rescuing Merrow on that rainy night and helping her change.

Now, these five thorny black markings displayed undeniable signs of growth.

From each black ring, two or three new thorns had sprouted, stretching relentlessly towards the obsidian rose emblazoned upon Merrow’s chest.

The curse had deepened!

Witnessing Merrow’s appearance, so akin to a prisoner awaiting torture, a sudden, violent tremor coursed through Aida’s heart.

With a trembling hand, she extended a finger, tracing a slow path up Merrow’s abdomen, until it rested upon the dark, thorny rose.

That spot marked the very location of Merrow’s heart.

“Madam…”

“Ah…”

Aida’s hand recoiled with a start.

“I apologize,” she stammered, “I… I will release you now.”

She fumbled frantically to undo the restraints on Merrow’s limbs, then stood by the bedside, visibly nervous.

Aida observed a patch of purple marks on Merrow’s abdomen, slowly fading from view.

This was the contract mark she had used to exert control over Merrow’s master-s*ave pact.

The genuine master-s*ave pact was the one Merrow had forged with Merlina, whereas the mark Aida had imposed upon Merrow’s lower abdomen represented a grafted control, layered upon that existing contract.

This granted Aida nearly the same authority as Merlina, enabling her to compel Merrow’s body to obey any command.

However, unlike her daughter, Aida could not harness Merrow’s spiritual energy through this connection.

Until moments ago, the contract mark had pulsed with an eerie violet glow, only now beginning to slowly recede.

Outwardly, no trace of it remained.

“You… you are free to leave,” Aida managed, her voice strained.

“I was utterly reckless last night.

If you wish to exact your revenge upon me, I… I would not resist.”

Aida averted her gaze, unable to meet Merrow’s eyes.

Her voice was laced with apology, yet beneath that regret, a peculiar shyness subtly stirred.

However, from the bed behind her, Merrow’s voice, tinged with a hint of awkwardness, reached her ears.

“Forgive me, Madam,” Merrow replied, a flush creeping up her neck, “My… my body feels utterly numb.

I… I may not be able to rise immediately.”

“Ah…”

Aida’s face burned even hotter.

Merrow had been subjected to such torment for half the night, remaining bound and immobile upon the bed from the latter half of the night until dawn.

Judging by Aida’s own waking position, she must have inadvertently pressed down on Merrow after falling asleep.

Little wonder, then, that Merrow’s entire body felt profoundly numb.

“Wait here,” Aida instructed, her voice regaining a semblance of composure.

“I shall return presently.”

Aida scurried out of the room in a flurry, only to return moments later with a basin of warm water and a soft towel.

“Madam?”

Merrow watched, utterly bewildered, as Aida approached her side, and then…

To Merrow’s astonishment, Aida, her face flushed with a deep crimson, rolled up her sleeves, dampened the towel, and began to meticulously cleanse her body with careful, tender strokes.