I was in trouble. I didn't know exactly what had happened, but it was clear that something irreversible had occurred. Oh my goodness, what a situation... What should I do now? Negative thoughts flooded my mind, and I desperately hoped the reality I was perceiving was just a misconception.
"Ugh..." Overwhelmed by a hangover and feeling dizzy, the situation I had to deal with only intensified the throbbing in my head. "Calm down, Harold... Not everything might be as it seems right now, let's take a closer look at the situation..." Clinging to any hope, I wished the reality I was facing was just a figment of my imagination.
I glanced around lightly, and the surroundings came into view. The wine bottle on the floor, the leftovers of our meal now cold, and our clothes scattered about... These were certainly the clothes Marika and I wore the previous night, thrown about as if removed hastily. And there we were, Marika and I, completely naked as if we were Adam and Eve who had just shared a bed.
"Oh..." The only logical conclusion that came to mind was that Marika and I had been intimate. What was I supposed to do now? 'If you cross the line... then I don't know.' Lusia's words naturally came to mind. In essence, I had been unfaithful, betraying the woman I was formally tied to for another.
What should I do? No solution came to mind. I couldn’t just sit there, wasting time in this bewildering situation. It felt like my future was so bleak that I couldn’t see anything ahead.
"Ugh..." Finally, realizing I couldn’t stay naked forever, I reluctantly started to pick up the scattered clothes...
"Uhmm..." Suddenly, Princess Marika stirred.
"?!?" In that moment, I froze, holding my breath, trying to be as silent as possible.
"Haa..." Unaware of my turmoil, Princess Marika stretched leisurely, in stark contrast to my anxious state... "Harold? Good morning..." Despite my efforts to avoid detection, Marika woke up and lazily rubbed her sleepy eyes, greeting the morning.
"Eh?" She soon began to face reality and seemed a bit perplexed as she observed her current state. I was in trouble. The word popped into my head as I hurried to explain.
"Marika?! Uh... it seems like we had a bit of a problem yesterday!" I uttered in an unnaturally shaky voice, like an actor struggling on stage, and moved towards the exit, hoping to escape the awkward scene.
"Hmm..." However, Marika ignored my words and continued to inspect herself and the bed with a distant look.
"I can't remember exactly, but let's just consider it a minor mishap!" In a desperate attempt to flee the room, I came up with excuses and hastened towards the increasingly close exit.
Click. I reached the stylish door and was about to grasp the handle, overwhelmed by the urge to escape this situation when...
"Stop." Marika's unusually stern voice froze me in my tracks.
"Running away now would mean admitting your guilt and attempting to escape. If you leave this room without my permission, within an hour, a wanted poster with your face on it will be all over the streets," she threatened.
Gulp! Her words sent a shiver down my spine, and the once warm door handle trembled under my touch. I didn't voice it, but understanding her intent, I slowly released the handle and stayed in the room.
'I'm screwed.' With this realization, tension peaked, and cold sweat began to trickle down my forehead.
'Really in big trouble...' Realizing that I was facing a crisis like never before, I dreaded what Marika might say next, my heart constricting with fear.
"That's right, I expected Harold to make a wise decision," Marika said, nodding approvingly at my choice to stay. Honestly, despite my usual attitude towards her, Marika was undeniably a princess, a woman of high status and influence in this nation, someone not to be trifled with. "If you try to leave now, you'll be executed for committing a crime of sexual desire against a princess." The situation in the room was such that anyone would believe I had assaulted her. The disgrace of a commoner violating a princess – could there be a greater offense?
Tiptoeing lightly, the princess finally shed the heavy blankets. I felt her presence growing closer from behind. Gently pressing against my back, I wasn't sure if she was clothed, but her embrace suggested she might still be nude. Turning around now would only worsen the situation, and it might already be too late.
"But what if you agree to a few terms?" Her voice was soft yet seductive, like a devil making an irresistible, yet irreversible offer.
"I'll respect whatever choice you make... but you'll have to bear the consequences," she said, almost sounding like 'you have no choice but to agree,' and lightly kissed my neck.
"What do I need to agree to?" I asked, and at my words, her smile filled with triumph and her cheeks flushed with happiness.
"Ha... With Harold here, it's really comfortable," they said, sharing wine until their faces turned red from the intoxication.
"Uh, I'm glad you're feeling better," the woman said with a blissful smile, while the man remained neutral, neither happy nor dishappy.
"Ah, we've finished it..." She emptied the wine bottle, turning it upside down as if to prove it was all gone.
"But there's still more, let's enjoy it!" she said, bringing out a new bottle and pouring him another drink while maintaining her bright smile.
"How about we stop after a bit more? I'm getting full, and a little too tipsy..." But the man, seemingly reaching his limit, half-closed his eyes as he accepted the glass.
The situation was escalating. It was clear that a line had been crossed, one that couldn't easily be undone. I faced an immense dilemma, complicated by the princess's cunning and my own uncertain feelings. It had been a while since he had eaten, and the remnants of his steak, now cold, still emitted a luxurious aroma. The woman, sensing his weariness, decided to end the evening soon.
"Then let's just finish this last glass and call it a night. You seem very tired, so why don't you stay over?" she suggested.
"But where will I...?" he hesitated, clearly overwhelmed by her hospitality.
"Don't worry about that," she replied casually, grabbing his wine glass.
She carefully poured the wine, glancing at him with an almost cautious demeanor. He, partially out of his senses, was too preoccupied to pay her much attention.
"Ugh... alcohol really doesn't agree with me," he muttered.
At this moment, the woman, as if waiting for the right time, discreetly dropped a small pink pill into his glass, allowing it to dissolve in the wine.
"Here's the last glass! After this, we'll end our dinner," she announced cheerfully.
He took the glass without question, draining it completely. As soon as he finished, he let out a pained groan, as if experiencing some adverse reaction.
"Harold? What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" she asked with feigned concern.
"I'm sorry, Marika, but I don't feel well... I need to rest," he said with a plea in his voice.
"Of course," she replied briefly.
Without hesitation, he collapsed onto the bed, his groans becoming more frequent. Soon, his breath became ragged, his body seemingly reacting to something other than the alcohol. Interrupting the man's words, the princess calmly lies down on top of him.
"Marika...?" the man questions, sensing the unusual atmosphere, but it's already too late.
"I still vividly remember... being with the ancient god, our lips meeting... Feeling utterly lost and desperate, seeing the man I yearned for taken away right before my eyes," she declares with a resolve, pinning down his hands.
The man, already in a dazed state, shows no sign of resistance.
"Even if it meant death, I had to suppress the engagement announcement I should have made to not let your devotion go in vain," the princess confesses, revealing her desire for him.
Despite his inability to understand or resist the unfolding events, the man remains passive.
"You comforted me earlier, Harold... easing the pain of losing my family and sharing in the agony of my despair," she continues, her voice laced with emotions as she strips both of them of their clothes.
"But my true sorrow was something else, more horrifying than parting with my oppressive brother," she admits, her lips meeting his in a one-sided act of passion.
"I don't care about marriage to the ancient god," she declares, casting away her clothes along with her despair.
"I'll ensure that I am marked as yours, Harold," she proclaims, fully committing to the act.