PFKWR Chapter 2

“Um… what’s your name?” She asked cautiously, pushing through her fear.

“…Kailus Deymon.” He answered with a low sigh at the faint question of Lysia, as she trembled in his arms.

“Your title?”

Her straight brows drew together in a pleasant way. Even in this situation, she was asking the rank of an enemy general… Kailus couldn’t help but let out a short scoff.

“Does it matter? Our esteemed princess must cling to me, even if I were nothing but a beast.”

His words were crude, but not entirely wrong, leaving her unable to refute. Lysia, feeling lost, quietly lowered her gaze. Shadows fell beneath her long, red fan-like eyelashes.

He was right. She would be defiled by someone, no matter what. Even if he held no title, this man before her seemed to be the highest-ranking among the available choices. If she had to be defiled by someone, it might as well be someone of higher status.

At some point, she had been placed on the bed. Her eyes stayed fixed on her hands, neatly folded over her lap. She picked at the skin around her nails, masking her unease.

“The men of my tribe imprint on the first woman they sleep with.”

Having lived her entire life confined in a palace, the ignorant Lysia had no idea what this “imprinting” he spoke of could be.

With an impatient glare, he removed his armor. His massive frame was impressive even when hidden by the armor, but his bare body was truly extraordinary. Every inch of him was solid muscle.

Sweat clung to his skin, accentuating his physique through the thin fabric in a way that was strikingly sensual. Even she, who was naive about such matters, found herself stirred by the sight.

Lysia, momentarily entranced by the sight, quickly lowered her head when their eyes met. Beneath her lowered gaze, she saw his long, muscular legs, slick with sweat, in a way that was undeniably erotic.

“But what should I do? I don’t want to imprint on you.”

His voice sounded thoroughly annoyed. It was an understandable reaction. Unlike her sisters, who were renowned across the continent for their beauty, she had always been pointed at for her lewd and vulgar appearance.

So it was clear why he was so angry. He had been given her, instead of her celebrated sisters, as a reward for his service in beheading the king.

In an instant, Kailus closed the distance between them, pushing Lysia down onto the bed. Though his rank seemed uncertain, his face and body were nothing short of extraordinary.

“So, cry beneath me until shadows fall over this tent.”

For the first time, she was pinned under the heavy, unyielding weight of a man. Her innocent green eyes trembled and wandered aimlessly.

Kailus grasped her slender wrists in one hand, raising them above her head.

“Hah…”

Just as he wished, sobs broke free from Lysia’s lips. Contrary to her resolve, tears flowed ceaselessly from her large eyes. Her breath came in ragged bursts, mingling with sobs, and with every erratic exhale, her chest heaved dramatically.

Kailus’s fingers wandered to the leaf-shaped mark on Lysia’s chest.

“Hnnh…”

Startled by the alien sensation, Lysia’s lips parted in a gasp. The unexpected assault on an unguarded spot made her release shallow, involuntary breaths. Embarrassed by the moan that escaped her, Lysia bit down on the tender flesh inside her mouth.

“I had heard that the bastard princess of Yelka had a vulgar and obscene appearance. Is it because you’re of faerie blood that such rumors spread?”

Lysia blinked, taken aback. For ages, faeries had been treated no better than beasts, akin to barbarians. The fact that she bore faerie lineage was a well-guarded secret, known only to the royal family of Yelka and high-ranking nobles.

“H-How do you know that?”

“Are you unaware that this mark is the symbol of faeries?”

His voice carried mockery as his fingers toyed idly with the pointed bud, now swollen with excitement. With each deliberate movement of his hand, Lysia’s breath hitched, coming faster and more unevenly.

“Ah! Nngh…!”

The calloused hands, hardened from years of wielding a sword, moved slowly and insistently, assaulting the faerie’s mark without mercy. Lysia’s chest flattened and distorted under his rough touch.

“I-I didn’t know…”

Kailus lowered his lips to the mark, as if branding it with a deliberate kiss.

“Then you wouldn’t know this either. A faerie falls in love with the one who first kisses that mark.”

Could it really be true? Lysia had never heard such a thing before. She had lived her life hating her lineage, never bothering to learn more about the faeries. Nor had she been in a position to.

Yet his words didn’t feel like a lie. After his lips had touched the mark, every sense in her body seemed heightened to a painful degree. Normally indifferent to physical sensations, she now burned with even the lightest contact.

Even though she was a princess who should have remained composed, Lysia despaired at her own excitement. Was she truly the vulgar, debased creature her sisters claimed she was?

The kiss to the faerie’s mark didn’t end there. Kailus pulled back briefly, only to return with an animalistic intensity, biting down on her breast. The wet sounds of his tongue and lips filled the tent.

“Mmph…”

Kailus, who had been feasting on her breasts like a madman, paused at the sound of her crying. Tears dripped down her wide green eyes.

“Why are you crying?”

“Haah… I’m, I’m scared…”

For someone who had been driving him insane with her obscene moans, to now claim she was afraid—It felt somewhat unfair, but Kailus simply clicked his tongue in mild regret.

He carefully removed the torn negligee that was barely clinging to the princess’s waist.

“So, will you refuse to share my bed?”

After a moment of hesitation, Lysia raised her wrists to cover her eyes and shook her head. Having secured her consent, Kailus laughed freely-only for his expression to twist in an instant.

No wonder-his fiercely swollen length had pulsed violently, releasing without warning.

Thick, milky semen spattered wildly across the princess’s stomach.

The sight of his filthy seed—born of someone like him, a half-demon bastard scorned even by the most savage barbarians—staining the princess’s pristine body was a spectacle to behold.

His length quickly hardened again. Now even larger, his engorged length stood proudly against his lower abdomen. It ached with a readiness that seemed near its breaking point.

Kailus gripped Lysia’s thighs, attempting to part them. But she resisted, locking her legs together with all her strength.

“Open your legs.”

“Mnnh…”

“There won’t be pain… so just open them.”

As her legs remained resolutely closed, Kailus pulled her into an embrace from behind. He positioned his length in the soft space between her inner thighs and began to thrust deliberately.

He never intended to fully join with her. If the princess and him were to unite, an imprint would be formed. Kailus had no intention of imprinting on someone who he didn’t know.

But he could no longer hold back – it was becoming too difficult. Somehow, he had to release the heat swelling inside him.

He pressed himself into the soft, narrow space between her thighs. Then, wrapping his arms tightly around the princess’s waist from behind, he began to thrust forcefully.

“Dammit, haa!” he cursed.

“Hngh… Ah…”

Perhaps frightened, Lysia kept tightening her thighs, unintentionally intensifying the pressure. The friction was unbearable in its ecstasy, her soft flesh enveloping him. Her arousal trickled down, lubricating the path of his movements.

Using her arousal as a lubricant, he drove harder. He kept thrusting his hips, not letting her escape.

Before long, both were drenched in a mixture of sweat and fluids, their skin slick and flushed.

The sticky sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the tent.

Kailus released himself into the princess’s body several times. Perhaps it was because he had never known a woman’s touch in his life, his length kept releasing, yet immediately swelled again, demanding more.

“Cry louder now.”

Suddenly, Kailus bit down on Lysia’s earlobe and whispered hotly, his voice dripping with hunger. Lysia’s body trembled uncontrollably at his words.

Just as her desperate pleas reached their peak, a massive shadow fell over the tent.

Someone had approached.

The figure lingered beyond the bed where the two lay entangled, hesitating for a long moment before vanishing into the darkness.

And so, the night of a fallen kingdom slipped away.

 

 

* * *

 

Sitting on the bed, soaking wet, Kailus rummaged through the wooden box next to him. He pulled out a tunic and slipped it on, then took out a few clean linen towels.

The campfire had nearly burned out, but the water jug he had left beside it was still warm. He poured the hot water from the jug into the basin

Holding the basin and towels, he returned to the bed. The moment he looked at the princess, he cleared his throat several times. Her entire body was drenched in sweat and other fluids.

Lysia, who was lying curled up the makeshift bed, trembled the instant she saw him. Fear flickered in her wide eyes.

“I thought I was rather considerate to our noble princess.”

Lysia simply closed her eyes at the taunts and sarcastic remarks that she had become accustomed to. Silent tears trickled down her delicate cheeks.

Yelka was devoted to the goddess of the continent and valued purity above all else. Losing her chastity was no different from betraying her faith.

Lysia sobbed and murmured a barely audible prayer.

“…Goddess, please forgive my sin.”

Kailus’s brow arched sharply. He was extremely offended. He tried his best to be considerate of the noble princess, who was different from his humble self.

He had restrained his desires, held himself back, and fought to keep his reason intact so he wouldn’t imprint on her. And yet, she had done nothing but cry and tremble.

He had let her have everything her way, yet all she gave in return was silence and contempt.

Lysia’s expectant face when she asked him about his title flashed in his mind. He remembered the look of despair on her face when he had refused to answer her.

A flicker of rage ignited in his chest.

The countless contempts and disdain he had experienced since childhood flashed through his mind. When he lived in the palace as a servant, he had encountered countless royals who despised him, like Lysia de Yelka.

The unwelcome déjà vu made his expression twist.

“So, you won’t even speak to me?”

He strode up to her and seized her small chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The noble, knightly face was now twisted with raw hunger.

But, fortunately, Kailus did nothing more. He neither spoke further nor tormented her. He simply peeled away the remains of her torn negligee.

Lysia flinched and tried to recoil, but soon realized resistance was futile. She went limp in surrender.

The princess of the fallen nation was a spoil of war. She had no choice. Even if she was sick, tired, and in pain, she had to give her body to Kailus whenever he wanted.

“W-What…?”

A sudden, damp sensation made her crack open her eyes.

Kailus was wiping her body with a warm towel.

Humiliation burned inside her, but she was too weak to fight back.

His face remained solemn as he carefully cleaned her.

Rigid with tension at first, Lysia soon found herself relaxing under the unexpected gentleness. She soon began to nod off.

“Cold…”

“You’re troublesome.” Grumbling, Kailus swiftly pulled his tunic over her frail body. Then, he covered her with a blanket. Still unsatisfied, he tossed a fur cloak over her as well and stoked the fire high.

Yet, instead of returning to the bed, he lay down on the thick goatskin rug in the center of the tent, arms folded behind his head.

He could neither take her nor discard her.

As he pondered what to do with the princess, sleep did not come easily.