"Of course we won't let you work for nothing."
A captivating smile appeared on Capella's face, her lips curving upward slightly.
"To demonstrate my sincerity, the deposit for this collaboration is none other than myself, Capella Emerada Lugunica."
She stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with a mix of arrogance and invitation.
"Until this collaboration is completed, you can do whatever you want with my body."
Faced with this "deposit," I almost choked on the piece of meat I had just swallowed.
This deposit was indeed substantial. A royal princess? That was a high price.
However, I probably couldn't afford to accept it.
Putting aside politics... look at my situation. I was surrounded by hundreds of beautiful women, all of whom were untouched due to the previous owner's neuroses. Why would I bother with this woman who, given her personality, had probably seen countless men?
"Please allow me to refuse," I said flatly.
"Why!?" Capella snapped, her smile vanishing instantly. "Why are you rejecting me? Am I somehow inferior to these women?!"
"That's not the issue." I shook my head. "In terms of appearance alone, you are not much different from them. They are all one-in-a-million beauties. In fact, due to your royal status, you are even more 'valuable' on paper."
I paused, then looked her up and down with deliberate scrutiny.
"But... I'm a person who likes things to be clean. I don't want to touch anything that other people have used."
Although I didn't say it directly, the meaning was crystal clear.
You're not clean.
Capella understood instantly.
"Huh?! Why do you think I'm unclean?!" she screeched. "I haven't done anything!"
"Isn't that so?" I replied with a skeptical look.
"You! You bastard..."
The curse that was about to explode from her mouth was forcibly swallowed back down when she saw my eyes narrow dangerously.
Even so, Capella's expression was terribly gloomy.
'When have I ever felt so frustrated?' she thought furiously. 'Even inside the palace, facing my parents and those useless siblings, I never felt so stifled!'
She really wanted to tear my mouth apart, pry open my skull, and stir my brain with a fork until I woke up and realized who I was talking to.
She was a Princess of the Kingdom!
And the irony? She was clean.
Although she had wanted to experience the pleasures of adulthood, her reputation as a "problem child" (and the whispers about her dragon blood) meant the entire Royal Family—parents, brothers, even servants—were terrified of her. Her actions had been heavily restricted her entire life.
She hadn't found any opportunity to try it at all.
"This young lady is pure and innocent! Absolutely not unclean in the slightest!" she shouted, her face red with indignation.
I looked at Capella thoughtfully for a moment.
"How about changing to another deposit?" I asked.
To be honest, I still didn't really want her.
She was destined to become the Sin Archbishop of Lust. A monster like that wouldn't maintain her chastity forever. Getting involved with her felt like planting a time bomb in my bed.
"No!" she crossed her arms, stamping her foot. "Take it or leave it!"
She was clearly at her limit.
This situation actually made me conflicted.
'Do I want it or not?'
It would be a waste not to take it. The woman in front of me was still innocent. And if I rejected her, wouldn't that be like giving her away to some unknown man for free later? Or worse, leaving her to fester in her frustration until she snapped?
Maybe it would be better to help her out. Help her graduate from girlhood to womanhood. Maybe it would even stabilize her personality a bit? (Unlikely, but a man can dream).
Once I made up my mind...
"There's no other way," I sighed dramatically. "I'll just have to accept it reluctantly."
"Reluctantly?" Capella's eyebrow twitched. "You've got quite the nerve, haven't you? Don't end up unable to stand, begging for mercy and crawling out of the room like a useless piece of trash later."
"Who knows who will crawl out? You virgin~," I teased.
"Hehe~"
Capella gave a forced smile, her anger completely ignited.
I looked at Lycoris, who had remained a silent observer throughout.
"Lycoris, take this little princess to the guest room to prepare first. I'll come over later."
"I see. Your Highness, please follow me," Lycoris said, extending an invitation.
Capella took one last sharp look at me before turning and storming off with Lycoris.
As soon as they left, I let out a long sigh of relief.
It wasn't a pleasant feeling to deliberately treat others with such rudeness and arrogance. It was exhausting playing the villain.
As if sensing my fatigue, the girl beside me—the one who had fetched the chopsticks—spoke up gently.
"Thank you for your hard work."
I turned to look at her.
"It's not hard work, just a little uncomfortable."
"Is that so... Here are the chopsticks you requested. Please use them."
With a gentle smile, she produced a pair of exquisite bamboo chopsticks.
I stared blankly for a moment. I looked at her face, then down at the chopsticks, then at her chest.
'Where did she... pull those from?'
Her clothes were tight. There were no pockets.
"Please have your meal, or it will get cold," she urged, oblivious (or perhaps not) to my gaze.
'Is this... a way of tempting me?'
No, no. I was just overthinking it. Some "magnanimous" women just had a habit of storing things in convenient places.
'Right now, I need to eat.'
I needed to eat my fill and replenish my energy. Otherwise, I might be the one getting knocked out by Capella later.
After quickly filling my stomach, I was led by Lycoris to the room where Capella was waiting.
I walked in.
The first thing I saw was Capella, sitting on the bed. She was already prepared.
Disregarding her personality, she was definitely a beauty. A striking, dangerous beauty.
She didn't wait for me to speak.
"Come on," she challenged, her eyes burning. "Let me see what you're capable of. Let's see who ends up crying and tumbling out of the room like a defeated dog."
Capella was gradually revealing her true nature—the arrogance, the vulgarity—but she still held back slightly.
"A barking dog usually doesn't bite," I countered, closing the door.
"But a dog that doesn't bark is useless. You should take such a dog out and stew it," she retorted without backing down.
I smiled.
"You're quite sharp-tongued. I wonder if you'll still be able to speak with such energy later on."
"Don't worry about that," she sneered. "One of the essential courses for royalty is Vocal Projection. If one lacks the power to control their voice even in extreme situations, how can one be considered royalty?"
"Vocal Projection, huh? Since you put it that way, I have to experience it for myself."
As I spoke, I walked over and sat on the bed beside her.
I leaned in closer, my hand brushing against her thigh with deliberate slowness. Capella didn't flinch—at least, not outwardly. Her chin lifted defiantly, those golden eyes locking onto mine like she was daring me to make the first real move in this twisted game of hers. "What's the matter? Already hesitating?" she taunted, her voice booming with that royal inflection she'd bragged about. It was loud, almost theatrical, echoing off the walls of the guest room as if she were addressing a court instead of a man about to unravel her.
But I could see the cracks already. Her breath hitched just a fraction when my fingers trailed higher, grazing the edge of her dress. She was untouched, after all—her body betraying her with a subtle tremor that she tried to hide by crossing her legs tighter. "Hah! Is this your idea of intimidation? Pathetic," she barked, her tone laced with arrogance, projecting like a queen commanding her subjects. Yet, beneath that bravado, her skin flushed a telltale pink, warm and sensitive under my touch.
I decided to test her limits right away. My hand slipped under the fabric, finding the soft curve of her inner thigh, then higher still, brushing against a spot that made her entire frame jolt involuntarily. She was exquisitely sensitive, her inexperience amplifying every sensation like a raw nerve exposed to the air. "You call this a challenge?" she shouted, her voice cracking just a hair at the end, though she powered through with sheer volume. "I've endured worse from a stiff breeze! Keep going if you think you can break me—I'll have you on your knees begging for respite!"
Her words were haughty, laced with vulgar mockery, but her body told a different story. Her legs trembled as I circled that sensitive bud with my thumb, applying just enough pressure to send waves through her. She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the instinctive arch of her back, but it happened anyway—a quiver running from her core outward, making her thighs clench around my hand. For the first time, pleasure hit her like a storm she wasn't prepared for; her breath came in short, ragged bursts that she masked with another loud proclamation. "Fool! This is nothing! I could do this all night and still laugh at your feeble attempts!"
I pressed on, my other hand sliding up her side to cup her breast, thumbing the peak through the thin material. She gasped—a sharp, involuntary sound that she quickly drowned out with a scornful laugh projected at full force. "Oh, please! Is that all you've got? These women of yours must be weak-willed if this is what satisfies them!" But her facade was crumbling; her hips shifted against her will, seeking more even as she cursed under her breath. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her arrogant mask slipping as the unfamiliar ecstasy built, making her virgin body shake with a mix of resistance and surrender. She was fighting it tooth and nail, treating this like a battlefield where endurance was her weapon, but the tremors gave her away—raw, unfiltered sensitivity overwhelming her haughty resolve.
I leaned in, my fingers already dancing along her skin, but now it was time to escalate this farce. Capella's eyes widened just a fraction as I pushed her back onto the bed, her dress hiking up in the process. She didn't resist—not physically, at least—but her mouth opened immediately, that infernal Vocal Projection kicking in like a weapon. "Hah! You think pinning me down makes you the victor? I've crushed insects with more presence than you!" Her voice boomed, echoing through the room with royal authority, even as her body betrayed her with a shiver when my hand slid between her thighs, parting them with entitled ease.
'Look at her, squirming like fresh prey,' I thought, savoring the warmth radiating from her untouched core. 'No one's ever breached this sanctum. It's mine to claim, pure and unspoiled—my right, as it should be.'
I positioned myself above her, shedding my own clothes with deliberate slowness, letting her eyes roam over me in what I knew was a mix of defiance and hidden curiosity. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in controlled bursts, but she projected her arrogance like a shield. "Do your worst, you greedy fool! I'll endure this and laugh as you falter—royalty doesn't break for common filth like you!" The words were loud, haughty, laced with that vulgar edge she couldn't quite hide, but her hips twitched involuntarily as I aligned myself, the tip brushing against her slick, sensitive entrance. She was drenched already, her inexperience making every touch amplify into overwhelming sensation—her body clenching in anticipation, or perhaps fear, though she'd never admit it.
With a single, possessive thrust, I claimed her fully. The tightness was exquisite, a barrier giving way under my insistence, her purity yielding to me and me alone. She gasped—a sharp, involuntary cry that she tried to mask with a bellowed taunt: "Is that all? Pathetic! I feel nothing but pity for your inadequacy!" But her voice cracked at the edges, the projection wavering as pain and pleasure collided within her. Her walls gripped me like a vice, warm and velvet, untouched until this very moment, and the faint metallic tang of her "graduation" filled the air, a sensory proof of her transition from girl to woman—marked by me, forever.
'Yes, this is perfection,' I mused internally, thrusting deeper, feeling her body tremble beneath me. 'No other man has sullied this. She's mine now, freshly claimed, no leftovers, no spoilage. My desire made manifest—absolute, as it must be.'
Capella's hands clutched the sheets, knuckles white, her legs quivering as I set a rhythm, each movement sending jolts through her overwhelmed frame. She arched against her will, sweat beading on her skin, the scent of her arousal mixing with the room's faint incense. "You... you won't win this! I'll outlast you, make you beg—ah!" Her haughty proclamation broke into a stifled moan, quickly drowned out by another loud retort: "Foolish cur! This is child's play for one of my blood!" But the tremors said otherwise—her body convulsing with the raw intensity of first-time ecstasy, hips bucking erratically as waves of pleasure crashed over her, eroding that royal facade bit by bit.
I leaned down, my lips brushing her ear, my voice a low, talkative murmur amid the chaos. "Feel that? That's me etching my mark into you, virgin no more. How does it feel to be claimed properly, without the taint of others? It's your right to experience this—from me, of course." She tried to respond with more arrogance, her voice projecting defiance even as tears of overstimulation pricked her eyes, but her words dissolved into gasps, her body surrendering to the sensory overload while her mind clung desperately to that haughty throne.
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