Chapter 22
Pick It Up, or Not
Sevrus guided Ninia to the place where someone awaited her.
Only the sound of their two sets of footsteps echoed along the corridor.
From time to time Sevrus glanced at her with a faintly mocking look, but Ninia had no space in her mind to care.
…Why all of a sudden?
This was the first summons since the incident at the banquet hall. And it wasn’t an invitation to share dinner at her own request.
In truth, Ninia had considered it a relief that he hadn’t sought her out.
The belief that one had to be a person of value to survive was already engraved in her body.
But this was the first time someone had sought her for the use of a woman.
Of course. He… is my husband.
Husband. A word she could never grow used to.
It was natural for a husband to call for his wife, yet Ninia often forgot that she was someone’s wife at all.
He must despise me.
Surely he hated even to brush against her.
What about her so offended Tarahan? Her fingertips chilled.
Before her pale lips could turn completely white, she arrived at his office.
Knock, knock. Sevrus rapped lightly. Just as his hand reached for the handle, the door opened from within.
“You’re late.”
Tarahan looked down at her. Ninia’s breath caught for an instant.
The sunset spilling through the open doorway drew a long red line across the darkening hall, the crimson light giving the illusion of binding her whole body.
“Your Excellency, as you requested—”
“I don’t recall asking you to come.”
Tarahan cut Sevrus off, gesturing with his chin toward what the butler carried.
“Leave it and go.”
Ninia blinked blankly, then noticed the butler handing him a basket and came to her senses.
She’d been so half-absent she hadn’t even realized the butler was carrying anything.
For a moment she thought Tarahan meant her to be left behind; the tips of her ears reddened.
“Come in.”
Tarahan leaned lazily against the frame. Ninia stepped past him into the office. The door closed.
In the room stained by the sunset’s glow, only the two of them remained.
Tarahan crossed behind her and sat back against a single-seat sofa.
Even that sturdy seat creaked under his large frame.
Ninia stood like a post, just as she had the first day she entered this place, watching him.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Arms folded, Tarahan asked. His cool arrogance left her momentarily speechless.
Only after several faint movements of her lips did a thin answer emerge.
“…I didn’t know you were serious.”
Less disgusting than I’d expected, he had said after kissing her.
Returning to her room, Ninia had wondered why he had kissed her at all.
He must have wanted me to hate it.
The conclusion was simple: Tarahan loathed her so much that he’d forced himself to touch her just to cause her pain.
Yet only she knew whether the violence he offered truly hurt her.
Perhaps the sensation she’d felt that day was not what Tarahan had intended.
That was why she hadn’t sought him out—she didn’t want him to discover that she’d felt something other than the pain he meant to give.
“You don’t even keep your promises.”
At his reproach she lowered her eyes in silence.
Whatever she said, if he declared it so, then it was so.
In a way, she preferred it that way; at least she needn’t open her mouth and confess the truth.
“I don’t like anyone looking down on me, Ninia.”
Her blue eyes trembled.
The calm gaze that had seemed ready to endure anything darted about in confusion before finally dropping to the floor.
My name. He knows it.
She knew it was a foolish thought—even people in the smallest village at the empire’s edge knew her name.
Of course the man married to her would know it.
But it was the first time he had spoken it aloud.
His red eyes swept over her again.
Again her insides stirred, boiling and fluttering as though breath itself trembled.
Surely when God made humans He placed something restless inside.
She found herself imagining things she couldn’t name.
He tilted his head slightly and gave a command.
“Sit.”
Her gaze followed the direction of his hand.
His legs were parted, leaving just enough space for one person.
The sunset filtering through the window glowed unnaturally deep.
Backlit by that crimson light, he looked like a god by another name.
Ninia’s knees touched the floor.
Tarahan crooked a finger between his legs; she had to shuffle forward on her knees.
She was enclosed within the space of his body.
His gaze felt like a leash: her body free, yet she could not move, as if tied like a beast.
A languid curve lifted the corner of his mouth—satisfaction.
“I was thinking.”
His fingers tapped the armrest as if weighing a thought.
At the words that followed, she could not raise her head.
“You behave like a dog that doesn’t know what to do unless it has someone to serve.”
Tarahan watched her visible shiver and laughed silently.
At first he had disliked such obedience, certain it was all an act.
But the former saintess was more honest than he had guessed—incapable of disguise. Just as she was now.
“A goddess’s discarded trash… I’m still wondering whether to pick you up or not.”
“…Ah!”
Tarahan grasped her chin and forced her to look up.
Her eyes darted everywhere before finally dropping again.
The blue irises rippled like restless water—not scheming, only lost.
If I train her well, she might be entertaining.
Though Ninia had been cast out of the temple, those petty zealots surely believed she still served the goddess.
Even a beast that survives death will bite its master someday.
Showing them a fallen cleric tamed to his will—and watching their faces twist—would be a fine amusement.
“Mm…”
Perhaps he’d tightened his grip without realizing; she exhaled a faint breath.
His thumb pressed her cheek, drawing her sharper attention.
Watching her react to the smallest stimulus brought a sadistic pleasure.
At last he told her why he’d called her.
“Shall we have dinner?”
Ninia blinked rapidly, unable to grasp his meaning.
Ignoring her reaction, Tarahan reached for the basket Sevrus had left.
Inside were simple foods: sandwiches, milk, and, last of all, grapes.
Fruit.
The grapes were a little different from ordinary ones—more elongated, their purple hue darker.
She found them curious; it was the first fruit she’d seen since coming here.
Noticing her eyes on the grapes, Tarahan asked,
“Do you want some?”
Unsure how to answer, she hesitated.
She had no memory of ever choosing or asking for food.
Such a life had always seemed natural, unquestioned.
Yet, purely to that question, she did want them.
After a pause she replied,
“…Yes.”
Without comment he plucked a grape from the stem and held it to her lips.
Ninia carefully opened her mouth and accepted it.
The smooth skin rolled on her tongue.
When her molars bit down, juice burst forth, sweetness flooding her senses almost to the point of melting thought.
“It’s about time for an uninvited guest to arrive,” he murmured, almost to himself, and a large hand brushed over her hair.
The sensation was strange.
Feeling the warmth lingering in her hair, Ninia’s eyes wavered again.
Kneeling, fed by hand, and patted on the head—she realized, belatedly, she was being treated exactly like a dog.
“Be ready.”
A short command. Her blue eyes were already clouded with shock.
He patted her cheek, and as if that touch were a switch, her skin flushed crimson.
Shame? Or…
His gaze slid to her nape.
Her dress hung loose on her small frame, gaping whenever she bent her head.
His slow eyes clung to the pale skin before finally lifting away.
“You always manage to wear rags.”
His hand encircled her neck.
Even without pressure the weight was overwhelming; her breath quickened.
“When you hear me, answer at once.”
His brows knit slightly.
He realized she had never once answered immediately.
A habit he disliked.
The direct touch made her quiver—like holding a fragile bird.
Her skin was so pale and delicate it seemed it would bruise before he could even tighten his grip. Perhaps it already had.
“…Yes.”
Ninia nodded a beat late, not even knowing what she agreed to, answering only under his insistence.
Foolish, perhaps, but it was the answer he wanted.
And her entranced gaze remained unchanged, filling Tarahan with a strange satisfaction.
A beast abandoned yet still craving its master—then I’ll use her as much as I please.
After all, was this not a kind of bargain?
A deep flame kindled in his eyes as he looked at Ninia.
