"I…" Sylas was speechless.
He did indeed find this woman's body odor somewhat strong.But he hadn't meant to look down on her.
You could just take a bath, he thought.
He could only soothe her: "My Lady, you're drunk. Let's sleep, alright?"
"Drunk? Since when do I get drunk?" Victoria's intoxication was peaking. Her courage grew a bit as well.
Back at the palace, she certainly couldn't have laid a hand on him in front of Isolde.
But now, with him already pinned beneath her, if she still didn't dare, she'd be utterly spineless.
She reached out and, as if provocatively, touched Sylas's face. Testing to see if he would resist.
Sylas naturally didn't move.
Having his face touched was, to him, almost negligible teasing. He had to admit, Isolde had indeed lowered his boundaries.
"My Lady, sleep, just sleep. You've had a lot to drink. Sleep." Sylas tried to get up.
"Don't move!" Victoria began to press her advantage. She was tall and buxom; pinned under her, Sylas truly lacked the strength to shift her.
She pinched his nose, squeezed his lips, then sneered in a low voice, "Are you resentful?"
"Resentful? Resentful of what?"
"Leaving Her Majesty's side to come to me. Doesn't it feel like a huge step down?"
Sylas couldn't help but laugh. He hurriedly explained, "No, I think it's quite fine—"
Slap!
Victoria's palm landed on his face.
Sylas was stunned.
Holding his cheek, he looked at the drunken Victoria, unsure what to say.
"Your Lady Sovereign speaks, you will… hic!… you will listen! No laughing!" Victoria said roughly.
Sylas's body began to tremble.
He could roughly discern what kind of person this Victoria was.
She was a woman of extreme self-restraint.
Outwardly, she appeared free-spirited and unconcerned with trivialities.
But inwardly, she deeply revered hierarchy and seniority.
Sylas was now her husband; he had to obey obediently!
He didn't say much, merely nodding, "I understand."
Slap!
Another blow.
Sylas opened his mouth but suppressed the fury in his heart, remaining silent.
"Defiant? Do I need a reason to hit you?" Victoria asked, somewhat smugly.
Sylas shook his head.
Seeing him so docile, the brutality Victoria had long suppressed finally surfaced.
She swallowed, feeling the blood vessels in her forehead throbbing.
Tonight, she could sleep with this beautiful man.
And a former rival, no less!
He would surely despise her smell. But it didn't matter.
He wouldn't dare show it!
"Take your clothes off." Victoria blinked, trying to clear her head.
She began undoing her buttons herself.
Sylas was utterly unprepared psychologically. But the slaps had made him realize that Victoria was also highly dangerous.
He could only silently shed his garments.
Then, somewhat stiffly, he hugged his shoulders, his gaze turning toward the door.
Victoria saw a piece of exquisite jade revealed beneath her. As cool and aloof as the moonlight outside.
"Heheh, heheh…" Victoria's hand groped over.
"…" Sylas gritted his teeth and endured.
He was going to be played with by a new woman again. And one who liked to beat her spouses.
Then, Victoria suddenly lifted his wrist.
It seemed she was looking for the Chastity Seal.
Sylas's heart tightened.
How could he possibly have that?
This was something Victoria knew.
But he guessed Victoria would surely use this to torment him.
Sure enough, Victoria grabbed his wrist, couldn't resist kissing it, then smirked, "Where's the Chastity Seal? Hmm? Her Majesty said you were a slut. I didn't believe it. Now I see it's true. Tsk tsk."
"Her Majesty took it…" Sylas whispered.
"And before Her Majesty?"
"Before?" Sylas's breath hitched. He wanted to argue but feared being hit.
He could only explain slowly, "I had it before."
"Did you?" Victoria slurred drunkenly. "I vaguely remember, during the talks between our nations, you flirted with so many women. Back then, I wanted to greet you, but you ignored me completely!"
"I ignored you? How is that possible?" Sylas said blankly.
"How is it possible? Hah! You were high-born, from a noble family, the famous General's son of Lyonesse.
How could you possibly have looked twice at a rustic like me?" The more Victoria spoke, the angrier she became.
Like a parvenu finally seeing the object of her past affections brought low, she sought desperately to reclaim her self-esteem.
She leaned down, face-to-face with Sylas. The madness on her face made her resemble a ripened peach.
"And now? How should you address me?"
Sylas, wiser from the experience, murmured, "Lady Sovereign…"
"I want to hit you. What should I do, Lord Sylas? I want to hit you hard, bite you! I want to crush you and devour you!" Victoria gripped his chin.
Words could no longer express her excitement. She had never been so exhilarated and triumphant.
Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. This subject's life is yours!
Sylas began to panic.
He didn't want to be beaten as soon as he arrived. Even Isolde hadn't primarily relied on violence.
He could only force a smile and say, "Lady Sovereign, how about something else? I… I'll serve you properly?"
To suffer less, he decided to try to please her.
Enduring the humiliation, he raised his head and actively kissed Victoria's lips.
A strong wave of alcohol made him almost vomit.
Sylas frowned; he couldn't maintain the position and fell back onto the bed, gasping for air away from her.
"Hah…"
This reaction naturally fell entirely into Victoria's view.
She laughed.
Usually unrestrained, her laughter now was exceptionally manic.
"You do find me disgusting. Heh, well, that's right. You nobles always look down on us back-country folk.
But so what? I'm still second to none but one! I'll make you all submit! I will make Aethelred strong and powerful!"
She grabbed Sylas's hair, raised her hand, and delivered two more slaps.
"No ! I didn't… please…no…"
She gave Sylas no chance to explain.
…
Victoria was beautiful.
She was tall and full-figured; beneath her slovenly clothes was skin as soft as curds.
Now, she lay in bed, a look of satisfaction on her face, covered by the quilt, sound asleep and snoring.
And Sylas was in the courtyard, retching continuously.
Vomiting while wiping blood from his nose.
He had made a fatal mistake. This mistake reminded him of the moment he was captured.
Hesitation, ultimately gaining the benefits of neither side.
Just like that day he was captured, when he hadn't ended his life promptly.
He had neither died cleanly nor escaped his misery.
It was the same now.
He had neither avoided the beating nor held out until she gave up on that disgusting demand.
He had overestimated his willpower.
After being beaten until his nose bled, he finally realized he couldn't take it anymore.