"Rest easy—I have magic. He can do nothing to me."
At the telepathic voice in his mind, Louis glanced toward the princess, and the composure he usually maintained returned to him.
Right—Her Highness was protected by magic. As long as she subtly cast an illusion, Lai Yi, that useless playboy, would never be able to control a princess as gifted in magic as her.
Louis fetched two ropes and obediently led over Ophelia and the delicate, charming Nanako. As they approached Lai Yi, Nanako let out a soft, intentional "Ao~"—a cute little sound.
Louis had just wiped the cold sweat from his forehead when he noticed Lai Yi sitting there lazily, as if things weren't over yet.
"Haven't you forgotten about the slave brand?" Lai Yi asked.
Of course Louis hadn't forgotten. He puffed out his plump body, trembling as he fetched a magical knife. Once the slave brand was carved, a slave would be unable to resist their master's orders; any resistance would trigger excruciating heart pain.
"Your Highness, forgive me," Louis sent a telepathic message. "I'll use magic to pretend to carve it."
"I'll do the carving myself," Lai Yi said with a smile, as if he'd read Louis' thoughts. "When it's something of mine, I feel more at ease using it if I handle it myself."
Feeling the elves' gazes—so sharp they might have torn him apart—Lai Yi knew he was in danger, but he took comfort in the presence of his guards. He revelled in the agony of those elven stares piercing his skin.
I just love how you all hate me but can't do a thing about it.
"It's fine," Ophelia's calm voice reached Louis telepathically. "He's just an ordinary man with no magic. Nothing will happen to me. I can wash off a low-level brand like this anytime after it's carved."
Hearing the princess' composure, Louis forced a bitter smile and tremblingly handed the magical knife to Lai Yi.
Lai Yi grabbed the knife and twirled it skillfully, like a mischievous child who'd found a new toy. His eyes darted over every part of Ophelia's body, as if sizing up where to strike.
His unruly gaze met Ophelia's unusually clear, resolute emerald eyes.
"Where do you think I should carve it?" he taunted. "Noblemen seem to like branding on the buttocks. How about I carve it there for you?"
Ignoring the elves' murderous glares, Lai Yi continued to tease the ugly slave who refused to speak. She's obviously the most beautiful elf in her race, yet she's disguised herself like this—she looks like a sow.
"Ophelia, you must endure," Ophelia repeated her mother's words silently in her heart, drawing on an unprecedented strength.
"Never mind," Lai Yi said. "You look this ugly already—I'll carve it on your face instead. It might even make you a little prettier."
As she felt the blade inching closer—knowing it would disfigure her—Ophelia slowly closed her eyes.
"Don't look. Don't do anything. I'm fine. You must hold back," she sent a telepathic message to all the elven girls, who were gritting their teeth and eager to take her suffering upon themselves.
Fortunately, the blade stopped just a few millimeters away from her face. Ophelia's eyes flew open in shock.
In the young man's unruly brows and eyes, there was a cat-and-mouse cruelty—she was the mouse being toyed with.
"Did you really think I'd scar that face of yours?" he said. "This face of yours is a one-of-a-kind work of art. I'll definitely take my time admiring it."
After speaking, the young man lifted Ophelia's garment, revealing her fair abdomen. He touched it and exclaimed, "This ugly slave may be hideous, but who knew her skin was so smooth?"
Louis, standing nearby, couldn't hold back any longer. "Young Master, please make up your mind quickly—I still have other business to attend to." He could barely stand watching his princess being humiliated like this.
"Why the hurry?" Lai Yi pinched Ophelia's cold, expressionless face.
"Ugly slave, tell me—where do you want the brand? On your buttocks, your face, or your abdomen?"
Ophelia still said nothing. Even trapped in a cage, her eyes were as clear and resolute as a queen's, noble and unyielding.
"You won't speak? Fine—if you don't, I'll carve it on all three places," Lai Yi threatened, using the same tone he'd used when he said, "I am shamless."
But Ophelia remained silent, like a mute, letting Lai Yi touch her everywhere as he pleased.
"Don't you dare act. Hold back. He's just a mortal with no magic," she urged the others telepathically.
All the elves could do was glare in anger. If the princess hadn't told them to stay calm, Lai Yi would have died a hundred times over.
Interesting, Lai Yi thought. Her will is as firm as ice frozen for a thousand years—not a hint of weakness.
"Why? Do you want to kill me?" Lai Yi turned his head and picked out an elf with a face as lovely as spring, frost glistening in her brows.
Alice—Ophelia sighed inwardly. Alice was one of her childhood friends, and Ophelia, as the elven princess, had once promised to protect everyone.
Now, was she going to break that promise? The very thought twisted her heart with agony
Lai Yi deliberately positioned himself so Ophelia could see clearly, then held the knife close to Alice's face. His expression twisted into extreme madness.
"Go on—come kill me!" he shouted. "If that ugly slave doesn't speak, I'll scar your face until you look just like her. You'll take her place as my slave."
The blonde, blue-eyed elf glared at him fiercely. Though her body trembled with fear, she didn't step back an inch as the blade drew near.
It wasn't until the knife was just a few centimeters from Alice's face that Ophelia finally spoke. Her voice was as clear and melodious as a mountain spring.
"Please… carve it on my abdomen."
"Your Highness!" the blonde elf gasped, momentarily stunned. In the end, though, she didn't have the courage to step forward and sacrifice herself for the princess.
"I am your princess—I have a duty to protect all of you," Ophelia sent a telepathic message to every elf. Her eyes were resolute as she stared at the cynical Lai Yi.
To show her "sincerity," she added, "The abdomen is where magic power gathers. If a slave contract is branded there, no one can undo it."
Of course, for a genius like her, undoing an abdominal slave contract would be nothing more than a minor hassle.
"Oh? So you finally decided to speak," Lai Yi sneered, a devilish grin spreading across his face. Meanwhile, he dragged the blade along the blonde elf's body, taunting Ophelia.
"I thought you were actually mute, since you wouldn't say a word." He paused, then added, "But what should you call me?"
What does he mean? Ophelia's cheeks flushed. Does he want me to call him "Master"?
Never did I think I, Ophelia—high and mighty elven princess—would have to call a filthy human "Master." And this human is even a scumbag.
"Will you say it?" Lai Yi grew impatient at her hesitation. "If not, I'll scar this pretty face right in front of you."
"Master," Ophelia forced the word out through gritted teeth, enduring the humiliation. For the first time, her calm voice trembled slightly.
Louis, standing beside them, burst into tears.
Lai Yi turned to the blonde, blue-eyed elf, caressing her cheek as he spoke—deliberately loud enough for Ophelia to hear. "She's such a kind girl, isn't she? Sacrificing herself to keep you safe."
Then he turned back to Ophelia and ordered, "Say it again."
"Master," Ophelia repeated, swallowing her shame.
Women are like this, Lai Yi thought. At first, they clamp up tight, but once they give in, it's hard to stop them.
"Say the whole thing," he pressed. "Otherwise, I'll slash her face."
"Master… please carve the brand on my abdomen," Ophelia said, her voice barely audible.
The surrounding elves watched in shock, anger, and helplessness. Their noble princess—now calling a scumbag "Master," humbling herself to protect them. But they had to hold back. They couldn't provoke the city guards in a moment of anger; if the princess was exposed, everything would be lost.
"Hahaha!" Lai Yi threw back his head and laughed, as satisfied as a man who'd been pent up for three months finally releasing himself.
He began to "draw" on Ophelia's abdomen—where she had voluntarily bared her skin.
Ophelia closed her eyes, resigning herself to her fate, but the corners of her lashes trembled slightly—betraying the calmness she tried to show.
Louis, nearby, was already sobbing uncontrollably. Her Highness is so kind-hearted and forbearing. She endures what others cannot; she will surely accomplish what others cannot. The restoration of our kingdom is hopeful.
The blade left a burning, stinging pain on her abdomen.
With the first stroke, Ophelia thought of her once-prosperous kingdom.
With the second, she remembered her noble, loving mother.
With the third, she recalled the lively days in the royal palace.
By the time he'd made countless strokes, she thought of the tragedy after the imperial cavalry breached the city walls—her mother's final instructions, Steward Louis' plan to hide her, and the enemy's hunt for the missing princess.
I must not be discovered here. I must avenge them.
Her resolve grew even stronger.
On her abdomen, Lai Yi had carved a heart-shaped brand, which glowed with a faint purple light.
With this mark, Lai Yi realized he could order Ophelia to do anything—even force her to go against her own will.