Charlotte - Chapter 13

“Ha, ugh… …!”

Without warning, his genitals were thrust into the spot where his hand had slipped out. Charlotte clenched her teeth to keep herself from screaming.

No matter how thick and firm Leo’s knuckles were, they were no match for the swollen pillar of flesh.

Without any effort to spread his three fingers, the inner wall that had been swollen around Leo was too big to handle, and she didn’t know what to do.

“Ugh! Ahh!”

Leo showed no merci, giving her not even a moment to breathe as he pulled back and thrust forward again, rough and relentless.

He was like a wild beast, one that had never learned restraint.

“Haah, ngh! Mmph!”

Charlotte had no choice but to be tossed around like prey caught in the jaws of a predator, utterly at his merci.

“Ahh! Ngh—!”

A tormenting stretch threatened to split her open from the inside, only to retreat and leave in its wake a pleasure so intense it sent her already fragile sanity tumbling.

“Mmnh… ah, ah!”

Especially when the cock would pulled out completely, only to slam back in without warning—her mind would go utterly blank, swallowed by darkness, before barely regaining clarity.

“Haa….”

After enduring it several times, her legs gave out, trembling uncontrollably.

“Haah… Stand properly.”

Leo caught his breath as he chastised her, his tone firm. The position that had made penetration so effortless was collapsing, and he wasn’t pleased. Yet, with the blunt tip still resting at her entrance, there was no true respite for Charlotte.

“Hngh…”

The more she tried to steady her legs, the more they wobbled beneath her.

“Ah!”

Growing impatient, Leo abruptly pulled out and lifted one of her legs, placing it onto the desk—ensuring she had nowhere to run.

Leo ran his fingertips along the embarrassingly exposed entrance and adjusted it back down to his satisfaction.

The penis, which had entered with a sharp, foreign sensation, began its frantic back and forth. A slight shift in position changed the depth of his penetration.

Every time he touched the places he had already reached before, her breath hitched, leaving her gasping.

But now—if he so much as pressed a little deeper into those same spots, she felt as if she might lose consciousness altogether.

“Hnn… ah! Hngh!”

No matter how hard she tried to suppress them, her lips kept spilling out shameless noises.

Held firmly by her waist, Charlotte was rocked so relentlessly that she unconsciously flailed her hands across the desk, scattering everything in disarray.

She grabbed at something, only to let it go. Her nails scraped against the bare surface, then knocked something else to the floor.

She was too far gone to even register what it all was.

Leo remained entirely unfazed by the chaos she was causing, focused solely on grinding their bodies together.

As his pace grew more urgent, his scorching breath poured against the nape of her neck, sending shivers racing down her spine.

The heat was overwhelming, enough to make her body tremble all over. She was at her limit—every nerve in her body quivering in response.

And then, from above, a low, guttural growl rumbled down over her.

“Ugh…!”

A deep, rapid fullness stretched inside her, so intense it felt almost unbearable.

Charlotte’s fingers clenched instinctively around something, crushing it without thought.

It wasn’t until she turned her head—realizing with a pang of guilt that she had damaged one of Leo’s belongings—that she saw what it was: pages from a book.

Only when Leo coldly dismissed her, marking the end of her usefulness, did she finally notice the book was written in braille.

The unfamiliar texture of the raised dots beneath her fingertips sent a chilling sensation through her body, instantly dousing the heat that had consumed her.

***

Charlotte hastily straightened her disheveled attire, roughly tidying up the desk she had left in disarray before rushing out of the office.

She didn’t spare a glance back at Leo. Clenching her fists, she stumbled forward in hurried steps—an ungraceful retreat, the very image of someone fleeing.

Her face, already pale as freshly fallen snow, grew even paler as she walked down the corridor, as if she might suffocate under the weight of her own shame. The suffocating grip of humiliation tightened around her throat with every passing moment.

Leo had suddenly intruded into her conversation with Ferndel—just the mere mention of his name had unsettled her. She had wanted to see him.

He was only a few steps away, close enough to reach in an instant, yet she had hesitated for days, unable to bring herself to seek him out. Now, the lost time felt regretfully wasted.

Her patience had worn thin, leading her feet to change course of their own accord. But once she stood before his office, doubt crept in again.

If not for Ferndel’s inexplicable act of assistance, Charlotte would have surely turned back. She would have swallowed her lingering emotions and simply memorized the path to the pergola instead, postponing their meeting to an uncertain future.

Unable to voice what she truly felt, she had settled on the excuse of just because.

But Leo’s words had shattered that feeble justification.

“Unless it is for an official obligation, the only reason we will meet is for this act. No matter where that may be.”

He hadn’t said it simply to hurt her—he had meant it.

She could almost hear his unspoken wish: Let this damned pregnancy come sooner.

What did it mean to be only a few steps away from him?

How had she even dared to think of seeing him? No matter how much she longed for it, no matter that his own retainer had paved the way for her, how could she?

Her own audacity left her aghast.

A wretched woman.

At eleven years old, when Leo Kartenon had first been introduced to her as her betrothed, Charlotte had wept from sheer grief. She had never sought vengeance, yet now, fate had twisted in such a way that it was Leo’s turn to suffer.

But unlike him, Charlotte had no confidence that she could stop his tears. If anything, she feared she might be the one to make him cry even more.

She stopped walking, not knowing where she had even been fleeing to.

Lowering her gaze, she examined her appearance. The dress she wore had no pockets—not even a place to carry a simple handkerchief.

It felt like a cruel metaphor for her own helplessness, her inability to do anything for Leo.

Her head dropped lower, and lower still.

Even if she tore the hem of this wretched skirt and offered it to wipe his tears, Leo would no doubt recoil in disgust.

“…Our lord must find it terribly pointless, how beautiful the world remains when he can no longer see it.”

A crisp, sudden voice shattered Charlotte’s masochistic thoughts.

She turned her head to find Mona Illunier gazing at her with a carefully crafted smile—one that looked as if it had been painted by an untalented artist.

It was the first time Charlotte had encountered Mona since arriving at Rosa. Behind her, the castle’s corridor stretched out, bathed in the crimson hues of the setting sun. The long, vertical lattice windows lined the hallway at even intervals, which meant the same scenery must have been unfolding behind Charlotte as well.

It wasn’t difficult to guess what misconception Mona had.

No doubt, she assumed the clueless princess was leisurely admiring the evening sky—nothing more than an unwelcome guest basking in Rosa’s sunset as if she belonged.

Charlotte, however, had no interest in the sinking sun. Yet, she felt no sense of injustice at being misunderstood.

Instead, her past with Mona surged forward, crashing over her like an unrelenting wave.

“Your Highness. Your Highness, I beg you.”

Mona had knelt at the hem of Charlotte’s dress, hands clasped together, pleading desperately.

It had been right after Leo had visited to break off the engagement.

“Please, just once… Please reconsider. Don’t turn your back on Young Master Leo like this.”

Charlotte had glanced at Mona’s bloodshot eyes, the whites streaked with burst capillaries from unshed tears.

Then, she had simply taken a step back.

That was all it took to convey her answer.

“P-Princess…”

Mona had trembled, her jaw quivering in disbelief.

Charlotte had deliberately let out a long, heavy sigh.

“You and your master are truly relentless, aren’t you?”

She had added a scornful remark, laced with thinly veiled irritation.

That was all it took. Mona’s already red eyes had finally spilled over with tears.

“How… How could you do this to him?”

Mona had released the resentment that Leo had left unspoken, unable to contain it any longer.

“You know this isn’t just about feelings! If this continues, Young Master Leo could—he could die! Hic… I-I’m sorry. I was wrong, Your Highness. Please forgive me. Please!”

With a sudden, thunderous cry, Mona had thrown herself forward, crawling on her knees to prostrate before Charlotte.

She had wavered between fury and despair like a woman possessed.

Charlotte had watched the pitiful scene with the detached gaze of an outsider before finally summoning the guards.