Roy gradually started to cry out loud.
She shouldn't have cried, for tears symbolized weakness. They meant a plea for mercy and a wail of helplessness.
But in truth, no one cared whether she cried or not.
Even when physiological tears smeared her face, her throat swollen and hurting from sobbing, her head buzzing and cloudy, this disheveled state could not lessen Elrian's interest.
He even began to thrust cruelly, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, deliberately slamming into her when she cried out loud, shattering her voice into breathless moans.
This ravage probably lasted an hour. During that long time, Elrian occasionally leaned down, biting Roy's small, swollen nipples with his teeth, grinding them repeatedly. Sometimes he also nibbled her reddened ears and neck, like a true beast mating with a female.
The stiff fabric of the military uniform had no warmth, the hard golden buttons chafing her tender pink nipples, stimulating Roy to arch her back continuously.
The long-abused flower cave pitifully lay open, her soft inner lips spread carelessly, sticky white fluid mixed with some transparent liquid oozing out. Some dripped onto the floor, some staining Elrian's clothes and waist.
He remained fully dressed, only undoing one or two buttons at the collar, revealing little below. In contrast, Roy's tattered dress had long been torn off, tossed into some corner.
It is unclear how much time passed, but eventually Elrian quickened his pace, pounding Roy into pitiful cries. His thick, veined shaft bounced a few times, and viscous semen deeply injected into the warm passage.
"Ha..."
Elrian pressed down on Roy, his chin resting on her shoulder, offering the prisoner inside a satisfied smile.
He pulled out, and white liquid rushed out with it. Roy, without support, immediately slumped to the ground, her flower cave between the legs muddy, the entrance stained with semen contracted continually.
"Worthy of being the flower of Valtorre." Elrian tidied his trousers, swept his soaked hair back to reveal his forehead and handsome eyebrows. Leisurely, he looked at Theodore, sparing no words to continue provoking, "I've had the pleasure of tasting her on your behalf. Now, perhaps she should walk around naked."
Roy's pupils dilated then contracted. Silently, she curled up her limbs, teeth biting the flesh of her cheek.
In suffocating silence, Theodore spoke.
"You needn't provoke me." His voice was devoid of emotion, "Roy is the daughter of Duke Derek, the future Empress. If you dare treat her so, today's events will not remain secret. Elrian, do you wish to declare war on all of Valtorre?"
Elrian laughed heartily, "I thought I already declared war?"
"All you do is vent anger." Theodore's gaze lightly swept over Roy's curled body, "You failed to negotiate with me, had to take away something so the raid wasn't fruitless. As you wish, I will remember this day and repay it doubly in the future."
Elrian shrugged, his laugh filled with malice and arrogance, "As you please. Though I have no women around me, the Imperial Palace has plenty of whores. They'd be happy to repay you."
He deliberately misinterpreted Theodore's words.
Theodore said no more, his face like a marble sculpture, calm.
"Alright, you have fifteen minutes to sort out. Today's events will indeed become a secret, provided your little wife doesn't talk." Elrian fished out a shiny little trinket from his pants pocket, bent down to grab Roy's leg, and quickly stuffed it into her flesh cave. He flippantly patted her soaked face, "Miss Roy, you can go rescue your fiancé now."
Roy, misty-eyed, watched the satisfied beast leave the room.
She struggled several times before barely standing upright, trembling legs stepping towards the corner glass door of the interrogation room. It wasn't locked at all, easily pushed open.
The iron chair imprisoning the prisoner stood in the center of the empty space. Only five or six steps away, yet Roy walked in pain and distress, recalling the mermaid tale she saw in childhood, where the unloved little princess endured stabbing pain to approach her beloved. Back then, she cried to the maid, saying the mermaid was so pitiful not getting the Prince's love.
Now, she was no better than a mermaid.
Roy reached Theodore, her foot slipped, and she fell to her knees. Her knees slammed painfully.
"I…I will help you undo..."
Theodore's hands were cuffed to the armrests of the chair. Roy fumbled for ages, only finding two keyholes, but she had no key. In the movement, her swollen, bruised nipple brushed against his leg.
The warm, soft sensation vanished quickly.
Theodore gripped the armrest tightly, nails pale blue. He looked at the naked woman kneeling before him, a familiar scent spreading in the air.
—It was the smell of Elrian's semen.
His arch-enemy, Crown Prince of neighboring Orenze, hailed by the people as the mad lion of the Empire—had injected filthy semen into Roy's body, triumphantly proclaiming victory.