#40. Enslavement
A faint mist rose inside the office, filled with the deep scent of wood. The castle had recently acquired various kinds of tea leaves, and even the old, chipped tea sets had been replaced with new ones. The teapot and tea on the table were among those additions.
“Here you go.”
Ninia set the teacup on his desk. Tarahan, who was reading some documents she couldn’t understand, didn’t lift his head. When Ninia stepped back and returned to the table where the teapot rested, the sound of a cup being lifted came from his direction.
Ninia raised her own cup as well. The herbal tea, known for clearing the mind, was one she recognized—it had arrived just a few days after she and Tarahan began sharing tea.
It’s a high-grade blend. I wonder if he actually likes it.
She glanced at him, but there was no visible reaction on his face as he drank. She had tried serving several different kinds of tea over the past few days, but his response was always the same.
Maybe he prefers alcohol? But I don’t know anything about that…
She considered replacing the tea with wine, but the thought made her anxious. In the temple, only a single type of wine had been permitted, and that too only on ceremonial days.
Still, other than the blend Rosa had once brought, there wasn’t any tea he outright rejected. It seemed safer to stick with tea rather than risk serving the wrong kind of alcohol and seeing him frown. Comforting herself with that thought, Ninia wet her lips with a sip.
Beside her sofa lay a book on botany. A leaf-shaped bookmark was tucked inside, marking the page she had last read.
The reason Ninia now spent her afternoons in Tarahan’s office stemmed from two absences.
The first time, she had returned to her own quarters before he came back. Tarahan hadn’t commented on it, but it was true—she had left his bedroom without permission.
The second absence involved the library. She hadn’t expected him to come looking for her there in the middle of the day. That was when his patience had run out.
“From now on, whenever I’m in the castle, you’ll spend every afternoon in my office.”
As punishments went, it was mild. Ninia had obediently agreed and made her way to his office. Watching him focus on paperwork had been a strangely new sight to her. But only a few hours later, she had felt his gaze on her—she had dozed off without realizing it.
After that day, she made a habit of stopping by the library before noon to bring a book, and after several days of repeating the routine, she even found the courage to quietly serve him tea.
…It feels like prayer time.
The afternoon sunlight streamed softly through the large windows, and the dust drifting in the air sparkled delicately. Watching the floating specks, Ninia thought about the hours she had once given up.
After being abandoned by the temple, prayer had become a meaningless act. But when she had been a saint, it was the only time that brought her peace and freedom. Never had she imagined she would feel that same calm again—especially beside Tarahan.
To Ninia, these afternoons felt more like a gift than a punishment. She wasn’t sure if it was right to feel that way, but she had noticed one thing: the more she opened up to him, the more merciful he seemed to become.
It was the complete opposite of her old life. The guilt she once felt when revealing her heart had begun to fade, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of tranquility.
Ninia reached for her book. The botanical compendium categorized herbs according to their medicinal and poisonous properties.
She wasn’t yet brave enough to study anatomy, so she had chosen this instead. The detailed illustrations and text still stirred her curiosity.
Commoners relied on oral traditions for knowledge, while nobles possessed research texts like this one. Such a divide in knowledge was, in truth, a tool to solidify power.
The office was soon filled with nothing but the occasional rustle of paper. Though the silence was heavy, it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Perhaps this strange sense of ease was just an extension of that day when everything impossible had first begun to feel natural.
When Ninia finally looked up from her book, the sun had already started to sink. From Tarahan’s office, one could see the entire castle grounds. Outside, construction in the garden was underway—each day, the progress was visible, frame upon frame rising at remarkable speed.
As she turned her head, she found his gaze on her. She had assumed he was still focused on his paperwork.
“…What are they building in the garden?”
“A glass greenhouse.”
It was the first thing he had said to her that day. Though Tarahan often seemed to ignore her, there were moments when he would answer without resistance.
“I see.”
Her soft reply drifted out almost absently as she nodded. Lady Mierne had once spoken to her about greenhouses. In the central provinces, they were used to grow flowers year-round. But here in the north, she wasn’t sure. The lord of this castle wasn’t one for useless decorations—perhaps it was being built for some other reason.
“‘I see’—that’s all?”
His tone tilted slightly, and Ninia’s head followed in confusion. Was she supposed to say more? Though she had grown more comfortable speaking her mind, understanding him was still difficult.
Even during their quiet tea times, Tarahan had allowed her to talk, but he rarely answered her questions.
Ninia stepped toward him cautiously from the window. Maybe she had said something wrong—but she couldn’t think of what else to say.
She stopped before his desk, eyes lowering hesitantly. The glow of sunset painted her face in warm hues. Then Tarahan gave a small gesture.
“Kiss me.”
Her eyes widened. But though surprise fluttered through her, fear did not. The hesitation didn’t last long. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his.
It was little more than a touch, a brush of lips rather than a kiss—but it was the first time she had initiated it herself.
A tingling sensation spread across her skin, making her shiver. Tarahan pulled her into his arms, guiding her onto his lap. Though she had kissed him first, she soon found herself breathless beneath him.
Their lips parted only for air before meeting again, and the thought of the greenhouse completely vanished from her mind.
The deepening kiss burned like fire—no longer something that could end simply. His hand wrapped around her waist, and Ninia, tasting the forbidden fruit, surrendered. The faint remnants of guilt only served to sweeten the flavor.
But then—
The door burst open.
“I’ve returned from my mission, sir. There’s something urgent you need to review.”
It was Zernom, who had forgotten to knock. He was so focused on the documents in his hands that he didn’t notice what was happening near the desk.
It took a beat before the silence registered. Then Zernom looked up. Tarahan, calm as ever, spoke kindly to his stunned subordinate.
“Leave it. And get out.”
Even dazed, Zernom obeyed immediately. He set the papers down on the table and left without looking back.
All the while, Ninia kept her face buried against Tarahan’s neck. Those who came to report to him always arrived before dusk and left as soon as they were done. They all seemed startled to see her there—but none were foolish enough to mention it.
Zernom’s sudden intrusion had left Ninia’s mind blank. Her body froze, clinging desperately to Tarahan like a lifeline. Watching her, he laughed soundlessly.
A long while later, Ninia came back to her senses, her voice a little scattered.
“I… I shouldn’t be here. People come and go…”
“People… what?”
“…They’ll see.”
Even in her panic, she managed to speak clearly—a sign, perhaps, that the freedom he’d allowed her recently was working. Tarahan lifted her chin from his neck. Her flushed ears caught his attention, and without hesitation, he bit them lightly.
“As long as they don’t see, it’s fine. That’s what you mean, isn’t it? Then I’ll grant your wish.”
He pushed her down beneath the desk. Ninia, now under the table, looked up at him with uncertain eyes.
“If I’m hiding you, then you’d better make it worth it.”
With those merciless words, he grasped her chin—and pulled her closer.
***
The next day, her lips were swollen and red, stinging whenever she touched them. Each time her fingers brushed the sore spot, she remembered him. Ninia clasped her hands together and quickened her steps.
It’ll be noon soon.
She had woken up late. Down the corridor, a maid was walking toward her—a common enough sight in the castle. But the maid stopped in front of her.
Dark brown hair, almost black, and matching eyes. A familiar face.
“…Viole?”
Ninia recalled the name Rosa had once mentioned—the maid who had made a mistake with Lady Mierne.
Viole bowed silently and held out a basket to her.
“These are the new tea leaves that just arrived. Please check them.”
The basket was filled with glass jars of tea leaves, each neatly labeled. When Ninia took it, Viole bowed again and walked off in the direction Ninia had come from.
Why so suddenly?
New tea leaves had arrived only recently, and Rosa had already confirmed them. Why another delivery now? Ninia recalled Viole’s expressionless face.
She watched the direction Viole had gone for a moment, then looked back into the basket—
…What’s this?
At the bottom of the jars, a folded letter was tucked away. A chill ran down her spine, as though a bad omen had just brushed against it.
