Chapter 96

[Mother, I really, really like you a lot.]

A radiant smile blooms toward her.

[Ah, are you feeling unwell? No… Mother, you can’t be sick…]

The two most adorable blue gems in the world, filled with worry, gaze up at her.

[I’ll take care of you…! Don’t worry, Mother!]

A small hand trembling with anxiety, yet the earnestness in that clumsy gesture melts her heart.

She gently places her hand on the beautiful girl’s cheek. The most lovable girl in the world tightly holds the hand on her cheek and opens her cherry-like lips.

[Disgusting wench.]

Huh?

[You knew I wasn’t her. Just like you abandoned Father, you turned your back on me too. Drop dead. I never once thought of someone like you as my mother.]

In an instant, the blue eyes turn icy cold.

And at the same time, the world begins to flip upside down.

[You’re the murderer who killed my dad.]

“Guh…!”

As soon as she wakes from the dream, she’s met with a gloomy, ashen atmosphere and the all-too-familiar ceiling of her bedroom.

“Guh…! Cough…!”

A coughing fit wracks her body, her throat burning with pain. Trembling, she covers her mouth and looks down to see dark red blood staining her fingertips.

“Baron, here you go.”

Princess Viviana, who had been fidgeting nervously beside her, carefully offers a handkerchief.

Even though she had clearly declined the nursing, she had to admit that the princess’s stubbornness in not leaving the mansion was somewhat admirable.

“Thank you, Princess.”

“Please speak comfortably, Baron.”

“…How could I do that to you, Princess?”

She carefully wipes the blood from her mouth with the handkerchief given by the princess. The dark red stain on the pure white cloth starkly reveals just how bad her condition is.

It’s already been a week.

Since that day when Tina—no, that child—spat out the cruel truth, her world has completely crumbled.

She had known for a while.

That the child’s personality was vastly different from Tina’s.

Ever since Bonnie Blanchard, the former head of the Blanchard family and her father, passed away, Tina had never once called her “Mother.”

She had always treated her with cold indifference, her gaze always resembling that of someone looking at a murderer.

At some point, she had realized.

No matter how hard she tried, the deep-seated resentment in Tina’s heart would never dissolve.

Even if she paid off the family’s debts and restored the family’s glory, she knew Tina would still despise her.

How despairing it had been when she realized that.

That was why.

Even though she knew her daughter had suddenly changed, she had deliberately turned a blind eye to the truth.

The affection from her altered daughter was like a drug, addictive, and she didn’t want to lose that sweetness.

The desire not to return to the empty, bleak, ashen life of before had made her flee from the truth she should never have ignored.

“I too… am a sinner.”

She forces her heavy body to rise from the bed. Her legs nearly give out, but thanks to Princess Viviana quickly supporting her, she avoids injury.

“How is that child doing?”

The princess hesitates for a moment but soon answers with a serious expression.

“She’s still at the Saintess’s Mansion. We decided to keep her there until the demon is purified.”

“…I see.”

Now that she knew the child wasn’t her real daughter, there was no need to pour her heart out to her anymore.

That child was the one who had taken her real daughter away, a villain who had committed countless atrocities.

The Saintess would handle it well.

Now, there was only one thing left for her to do.

After the Saintess purged the demon, she would ask where her real daughter was. She would search for her daughter’s whereabouts.

If, in the worst-case scenario, her daughter couldn’t return here…

What would she do then?

“Guh…!”

Again, her stomach churns, and thick blood spurts from her mouth. She tries drinking the water the princess hastily offers, but the burning in her throat and the suffocating pressure in her chest remain.

Her heart feels heavy.

The torment inside her is a tangled mess of resentment and sorrow over losing her daughter.

But why? It’s not just that. There’s another inexplicable emotion tangled in her chest.

Clutching her trembling chest, she looks up and sees a radiant flower crown hanging in the center of the desk.

As if entranced, she slowly approaches the flower crown.

[Mother! I made this in the garden, hehe, how is it…?]

It was a gift from that child.

Back then, she had happily placed it in the center of the desk, cherishing the sentiment.

[I-Is it not good? Ah, the cuts on my hands…? It’s fine! If it makes Mother happy…!]

Those small, delicate hands, covered in cuts from thorns, had carefully picked each flower and woven them together to make this crown.

‘Was it all… just an act…?’

Artasha carefully holds the crown with trembling hands. As she gazes at the lovingly gathered flowers, the suppressed emotions in her chest begin to crumble.

“My child…”

She murmurs softly, looking at the crown in her hands.

“Did you… really not care about me at all?”

The remnants of memories she wanted to forget once again stab at her heart.

※

Clank—clank—

The heavy iron shackles binding her arms and legs clatter, echoing around her.

“Guh…!”

My hot breath fills the cold, gloomy space.

“Guh, hic…? Haah… stop…”

“Just bear with it a little longer, Tina. It’s almost over.”

Squeeze—

“Haaah…?! Guh…! T-This is weird…!”

Squeeze—squeeze—

“Ah… hic… sob…”

In this prison-like space created by Lillian, my arms are shackled to the ceiling, and my legs are tightly bound to the floor.

My arms and legs are spread wide, unable to move even slightly. Even my shirt is rolled up, exposing my shameful navel.

The one who tied me up in this bizarre and humiliating position is none other than this damnable Saintess in front of me.

And Lillian, having tied me up like this, is doing something utterly incomprehensible.

Squeeze—squeeze—!

“Haaaah?!?”

Lillian spreads her palms wide, gripping my waist, and presses my lower abdomen with her thumbs.

Like kneading clay, Lillian’s mischievous fingers press deeply into my lower abdomen, sending strange currents through my body.

Squeeze—squeeze—!

“Hic!?! S-Stop…!”

“Just a little more, it’s almost done.”

My body trembles as if convulsing, but the chains tightly binding my arms and legs prevent any real movement.

How did it come to this?

I fell asleep and woke up tied like this.

When I asked Lillian what she was doing, she smiled brightly and said this.

[We decided to do urine training today, right? I prepared something special for it.]

With that, Lillian began playing with my lower abdomen as she pleased.

Pressing, touching, pinching, tickling—all sorts of perverse hand movements tormenting me.

Unable to move my limbs, I could only clench my eyes shut, bite my lips, and suppress my shame.

How long had Lillian been kneading my lower abdomen?

Finally, Lillian removes her hands from my waist and wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead.

“Huff… hic… haah…”

“Phew, it’s done.”

“You pervert… pervert… damn pervert…”

Panting, I curse at Lillian, but she pays no mind and holds up a hand mirror in front of me.

“Want to take a look, Tina? It’s engraved beautifully.”

Lillian smiles seductively, holding the mirror to my stomach and tilting it so I can see.

I look at my stomach reflected in the small mirror. On my pale skin, Lillian’s finger marks are etched in red.

In the middle is my small navel.

And below it, a pattern I’ve never seen before is engraved on my stomach.

“…Huh?”

I mutter blankly, staring wide-eyed.

The strange pattern engraved below my navel.

Glowing faintly with a platinum hue, it depicts a small cross at the center with angel wings spread out on either side.

“W-What is this…?”

“Hehe, pretty, right? It’s an inscription I made for you, Tina.”

“An inscription…?”

“It suits your pale skin so well. Like an angel.”

I know a few things about inscriptions.

There’s the obedience inscription, which curses the bearer to have their heart explode if they disobey their master. It’s usually illegally engraved in slave markets.

Or the lust inscription, which amplifies sexual desire and sensation, preventing pregnancy no matter how much one engages in sexual activity. That’s usually engraved in brothels.

I know one or two more, but I’ve never seen an inscription like this before.

And so, the fear of the unknown overwhelms me even more.

“W-What did you do to my body…”