The Abandoned Princess’ Secret Bedroom - Chapter 10: The Thorn-Crowned Princess

The clothes draped over her body felt like soft wings. Llewellyn, waking from her slumber, glanced at the unfamiliar garments she had been dressed in and let out a heavy sigh. When had she been moved back to her room? Last night felt as if it had never happened.

She gingerly touched her neck, finding no trace of the heat she had felt before. The mark was gone.

“Ah…” she exhaled deeply.

She wanted to believe that last night’s intimacy had been nothing but a dream, but the unfamiliar clothes now on her and the faint red marks lingering on the tender skin of her shoulders told her otherwise.

“It happened again.”

This time, with another man. She felt like she had truly become a wanton person. Still, there was some solace in the fact that her partner this time had been Patron Ernell. If a scandal were to arise, the one to suffer the most would not be Llewellyn, but Ernell himself. That knowledge gave her a strange sense of relief. Of course, if rumors about Almandite were to spread, it wouldn’t do him any good either.

“The Pope’s illegitimate son…”

Llewellyn sighed again. In an attempt to put her at ease, Ernell had revealed a devastating secret to her. Was it simply to reassure her? An impulsive confession? Or had he fabricated the story just to coax her into bed?

She shook her head. No, he wouldn’t lie about something so monumental. The revelation that he was the Pope’s illegitimate child was too serious to be false. It had to have been shared to comfort her. In her mind, Ernell was becoming more and more of a good man.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Llewellyn’s thoughts drifted back to the previous night. Even though she had been under the mark’s control, almost pushed into it, she couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed it. That realization unsettled her. Had she always been this kind of person deep down? Someone so naturally inclined to promiscuity? She had always thought that physical intimacy was something she would share with her future spouse. But after the accident that was her first encounter, now this second time, she found herself oddly free of guilt or self-loathing.

“I need to go to the monastery…” she murmured.

What if something like this happened even at the monastery? Since being branded, Llewellyn had searched tirelessly for a way to remove the mark, but no solution had ever presented itself.

She had thought it would disappear after one time, but the mark seemed impossible to escape. Was there truly no way out? Llewellyn sighed yet again.

It wasn’t as though she dreamed of some grand future anymore. All she wanted was to live out her days in the monastery, letting go of everything and passing away quietly. Was that such a difficult thing to ask for?

Since her mother’s death, Llewellyn had given up so much. And now she was being asked to give up this final piece of her peace as well.

There was no one to ask for help. No one to confide in. No family, no friends, no lover. Here, she was surrounded only by those who sought to tear her apart.

Llewellyn was utterly, painfully alone.

*

Llewellyn stared at the man sitting across from her with a wary expression. Ernell, who had spent the morning steeped in melancholy, had suddenly invited her to share breakfast with him.

Of all people, Ernell seemed like the type to sever ties the coldest and quickest after such a night. He was, after all, a priest—someone for whom relations with women were outright forbidden. It would have made sense for him to create distance intentionally, for both their sakes. Yet here they were, dining alone in his chambers after dismissing all the attendants.

“This venison is quite delicious,” he said with a calm smile.

“Yes…” Llewellyn replied, her tone flat.

Ernell acted as though he were a gracious host, carefully tending to her comfort.

“Are you feeling well?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good to hear. Honestly, I wanted to let you sleep in until morning, but I thought moving you back to your room might inconvenience you.”

“How exactly did you manage to move me?” Llewellyn asked, her tone sharper than intended. Changing her into nightclothes was one thing, but how had he carried her through the royal palace without anyone noticing? Her quarters, as secluded as they were, couldn’t have been completely deserted.

“That’s a secret,” Ernell said with a sly smile.

“…”

“Perhaps I’ll tell you when we’re closer.”

This man—wasn’t he supposed to be gentle, polite, and known for his devotion? And yet, after just one night, he was behaving with such mischievous familiarity. Llewellyn looked at him, confused and uneasy. She felt a need to draw a line.

“Do we have any reason to become closer?” she asked bluntly.

Ernell’s eyes widened briefly before he let out a hearty laugh. His expression, surprisingly genuine, was pleasant to see.

“Oh, we have plenty of reasons,” he said lightly.

“…”

“You’ll be joining the monastery, won’t you?”

“I’m not talking about physical proximity,” Llewellyn clarified.

“Ah, so you’re suggesting we keep our boundaries intact?”

“Don’t you think that would be best?” Llewellyn countered.

Ernell chuckled at her reply, a soft, knowing laugh.

“You’re right. We’ll be physically close. But as for becoming intimate, I agree—it won’t happen. It shouldn’t happen,” Llewellyn said firmly. She took a bite of her salad, the tangy dressing snapping her mind back into focus.

Still, something about Ernell’s excessive kindness unsettled her. He was clearly a good man, but this sudden overfamiliarity made her suspicious. What was his angle?

“About last night,” Llewellyn began cautiously, “I wanted to apologize. That’s part of why I agreed to this breakfast.”

“Ah.”

“But please don’t think that what happened between us means anything. I’d like us to treat it as though it never happened.”

Ernell fixed his gaze on her, his clear eyes betraying a faint irritation. The corners of his crimson lips curved upward in a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Llewellyn, you’re full of thorns,” he said quietly.

“Are you trying to suggest I’m like a beautiful rose with thorns?” she asked, her tone skeptical.

“I don’t like such metaphors. No, Llewellyn, I meant to say you’re a bit foolish.”

“What…?”

Ernell stood from his seat and approached her. As she instinctively flinched and straightened in her chair, he chuckled softly.

“I’m not using last night as an excuse to demand closeness from you. Nor do I intend to.”

“…”

“But when you let someone get close to you, it makes them want to help you. To simply offer kindness, as naturally as one would bestow a blessing.”

“…”

“Llewellyn,” Ernell continued, his tone softening, “about that mark… Have you considered asking me for help?”

“…”

“That mark is the work of heretics—dark sorcerers who worship the malevolent gods. You’ll need my help to deal with it.”

Ernell knelt before her, taking one of her hands gently in his. His touch startled her, snapping her out of her defensive mindset. Only then did Llewellyn realize how harshly she had been speaking.

For the first time that morning, guilt flickered across her heart. Perhaps she had been too sharp with him.

Llewellyn realized she had overreacted to last night’s events, letting her sensitivity get the better of her. She knew deep down that Ernell wasn’t someone who would harm her, yet his excessive kindness unsettled her. Why is he being so kind to me? she wondered. Is it just because he’s a priest?

Though he seemed somewhat hurt by her earlier sharpness, Ernell quickly reassured her.
“Of course, I understand why you’d be cautious about my sudden offer to help. It’s natural, and it’s the right response. But I want to assure you, Princess—I won’t ask anything of you. I swear it.”

Llewellyn studied Ernell’s face carefully, her eyes searching for any trace of ulterior motives. But the priest’s expression remained gentle, his smile warm and unthreatening. Was this what happened to someone who dedicated their life to serving the divine and spreading its mercy?

“Why are you going to such lengths for me?” Llewellyn asked, unable to suppress her suspicion. Despite his reassurances, an instinctual wariness lingered. No one offered such generosity without reason—not even a priest.

Ernell’s smile didn’t waver. “Because I want to get to know you better. I’ve been curious about you for a long time.”

But that explanation didn’t convince her. To Llewellyn, his answer seemed odd, almost nonsensical. Without even realizing it, words slipped out of her mouth—words that lacked the decorum expected of her position.

“It’s not just because you enjoyed sleeping with me, is it?”

At her blunt question, Ernell let out a soft laugh, his amusement evident.

“Let’s say it is, if that makes you feel better.”

*

Llewellyn frowned as she walked, mentally piecing together the information Ernell had shared with her.

The Mark of Asmodeus would grow stronger over time once it manifested. However, it would disappear temporarily after being intimate with a man. The cycle lasted about ten to fifteen days.

“Once the mark manifests, you’ll be able to endure it for about ten days,” Ernell had said gravely when Llewellyn revealed she had lasted twenty.

“Additionally, the mark is visible only to its bearer, black magicians, and high-ranking priests—those at the Patron level or above.”

At least that was one small mercy. She didn’t have to keep her hair draped down or wear high-necked dresses to hide it.

“Most importantly,” Ernell had emphasized, “under no circumstances should the mark come into direct contact with divine energy.”

The Mark of Asmodeus, mischievous like the deity it represented, reacted violently to divine energy. That was why Llewellyn had lost control so quickly—it wasn’t simply the mark’s natural effects. Watching Ernell perform the blessing had stirred the mark awake, and the moment his divine energy touched her, it had caused the mark to go into overdrive.

“Also, prolonged physical closeness with men could awaken the mark,” he had warned.

“Is there no way to get rid of it?” Llewellyn had asked.

“Currently, it’s impossible,” Ernell had replied.

Since the mark was branded by a deity, only that same deity could remove it. But the Holy God had been silent for years, and there was no one alive who could wield divine power strong enough to counteract the mark. Even Ernell, with all his abilities, had admitted it was beyond him. The best course of action, he had said, was to manage the mark while continuing to search for a solution.

“You could always consider marriage,” Ernell had suggested, though his tone was light.

The thought was abhorrent to Llewellyn. Marrying foreign royalty was out of the question, and marrying anyone in this wretched place was even worse.

“I’ll search for a way,” Ernell had assured her. “I’ll need to leave the palace briefly, but I’ll return soon.”

“Leave the palace?” she had asked, startled.

Ernell had smiled gently. “I mean I will come back.”

Those words lingered with her. No one had ever told Llewellyn they would come back. Not once.

“Expelling the power of the dark gods is part of why the Holy Nation exists, after all,” he had added. “I will do my utmost to help you. If the mark flares again, please send me a letter.”

Something in his words, in his calm sincerity, had soothed her. The unease she had felt that morning dissipated, replaced by a quiet sense of reassurance. Was this what it felt like to share a difficult burden with someone? Ernell might eventually betray her or leave, but for now, she felt comforted.

Llewellyn arrived at the secluded palace with a lighter heart. However, her expression hardened instantly when she saw the man waiting for her, his fiery red hair catching the sunlight.

“Enjoyed your breakfast, I take it, Princess?” remarked Duke Hvitserk with a sly tone.

“What brings you here, Duke Hvitserk?” Llewellyn asked coldly.

“I wanted to see your face, even for a moment. I intended to invite you to breakfast, but it seems you were already dining with the Patron,” he replied, his words dripping with mockery.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Llewellyn said curtly.

“You seem to have grown quite close to a priest you’ve only just met,” Hvitserk added, his voice laced with derision so obvious even a passing child could sense it.

“Yes, we’ve grown quite close. We get along very well,” Llewellyn retorted, meeting his sarcasm with icy confidence.

“Because he’s young? Or because he’s handsome?”

Llewellyn’s expression darkened. Almandite had never insulted her like this. Being treated like some fool besotted by a pretty face infuriated her.

“What an absurdly rude thing to say…”

“I intend to marry you, Princess,” Hvitserk interrupted bluntly.

Llewellyn laughed coldly at his audacity. “You’re free to think whatever you like. But I am curious—why would you want to marry a forsaken princess like me?”

“Don’t you already know?”

“Of course not,” she replied.

“To repair what we once had,” he said with a steady gaze.

Llewellyn clenched her jaw, her expression hardening. She glared at Hvitserk, the emerald depths of his eyes swirling with emotion she chose to ignore.

Their relationship, once severed, was not something she intended to mend.

“To mend what was severed? Are you talking about the engagement?”

“Yes,” Almandite replied calmly.

“The engagement that was never formalized with any documents and existed only as a verbal agreement?”

“…”

“The engagement that the Hvitserk family unilaterally broke off, betraying me?”

Llewellyn let out a hollow laugh, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Your Grace, if you’re looking for a fiancée, I suggest you find a more suitable lady. It seems the Hvitserk family’s pride demands nothing less than a princess, but perhaps you should lower your standards a little.”

“…”

“As I stand now, I’m nothing but a poisoned apple. If you’d like to avoid sharing an early grave with the Dowager Queen, I suggest you stay quiet and keep your distance.”

Though Llewellyn’s honor had been tarnished, the Hvitserk Dukedom remained part of the Five Noble Houses, the most prestigious families descended from the founders of the kingdom.

Even though half of their fertile lands had been seized by the Dowager Queen’s faction, the Hvitserk family still maintained their strength. While their reputation had suffered due to the scandal surrounding the late Queen, they were certain to regain their influence if Almandite fully restored the family’s power.

“Almandite Hvitserk,” Llewellyn said icily, “I despise you. I loathe you.”

“…”

“So if you’ve decided to linger in the capital, let’s stay out of each other’s way. Don’t try to reattach threads that have long been severed.”

She turned sharply, her cold gaze fixed ahead as she made to leave. But Almandite’s voice stopped her, sharp as a blade.

“Is that why you slept with him?”

Llewellyn froze, her body stiffening instinctively.