[???] commanded her mana with a flick of wrist, and a shadow from her bed curled around the maid, slicing the gag.
*Pwah!*
The woman gasped for breath, strands of saliva dripping around her lips. Her breathing was heavy and in short gasps. "Milady, why are you doing this—"
[???] smiled, feeling the maid's hot breath on her fingers. A heavy scent of alder smoke began to waft through the air as [???] scooted ever so closer.
"I don't like liars, Jeanne." [???] slowly drew a circle on the maid's neck and the shadow from the bed followed, drawing out a small bead of blood. The maid trembled.
The scent of [???]'s pheromones grew stronger as alder smoke and ash completely covered the maid.
[???] smiled, the dim light in the room not quite meeting her eyes. "Don't make this harder on yourself. I seem to remember that you're an omega. And you didn't take your suppressant this morning, did you?"
She kicked Jeanne in the stomach with a black stocking-clad foot, prodding the woman's stomach before stepping onto it with force. [???]'s eyes grew cold with disgust, losing all the warmth in them.
"Milady, please—" Jeanne tried.
[???] just leaned in close, lapping up the bead of blood trickling down the maid's throat. It was warm, and the sharp, tangy taste of iron filled [???]'s mouth. "Who told you to spy on me, Jeanne?"
Jeanne jolted as [???]'s hot tongue traced her neck. She trembled like a doe underneath [???]'s fingers, biting her lips to keep the noises from escaping. A bloom of red brushed across Jeanne's cheeks. "Please, milady, I don't know what you're talking about—"
[???] grabbed Jeanne by her ponytail and slammed her face down into her bed, smothering her face in her pillow. Jeanne suddenly felt the weight of [???] on her back as her master straddled her back, digging the ridges of the rope even further into her skin.
She couldn't see anything or barely breathe until [???] yanked her head back again to give her a gasp of air before plunging her back down into the pillow.
[???] felt the maid tremble beneath her fingers, Jeanne's pale skin growing hotter and hotter. [???] forced the bangs out of her own dark-blue eyes with one hand, the other roughly holding onto Jeanne's ponytail.
She shrugged off her cardigan, letting it fall behind her. Cold air brushed across her bare shoulders and collarbone, but she didn't seem to notice. Beneath her, Jeanne twisted helplessly as the shift in pheromones flooded the room, heavier now, pressing down like suffocating fog.
For the poor omega being pinned and bound under the alpha unable to move, it must have been pure torture.
[???] slid a hand beneath the maid, her fingers burning and cold against Jeanne's stomach as she prodded the maid experimentally. Then she pressed her knee down against the back of Jeanne's neck, holding her firmly in place.
"I can do this all day, Jeanne." Her voice was almost bored. "I've killed enough people that I stopped counting a long time ago." She exhaled softly, as though recalling something tedious rather than horrific. "At some point they all start to blur together."
[???]'s aquamarine eyes remained flat and empty. Her grip tightened slightly. "So please don't waste my time. Who told you to spy on me?"
Jeanne broke. "I-I can't breathe—milady, please—"
[???] remained cold, her knee pressing down on Jeanne's throat while she smiled pleasantly. [???] kept one hand wrapped in Jeanne's blond ponytail. "Who was it?"
Foam began frothing at Jeanne's mouth as she gave. "I-It was—"
A single name tumbled from her lips, one that [???] certainly did not expect.
[???] froze for a brief moment before lifting her leg off of the maid's neck.
…Right. Of course they would plant someone to spy on her.
Jeanne laid on her back, gasping. The maid's glistening mahogany eyes were glazed and hazed over, peeking out from underneath the messy wet blindfold. Every breath was hot and laboured as she struggled to catch her breath while tears rolled down her flushed cheeks.
[???] turned away from Jeanne and shrugged back on her cardigan, doing up the buttons. A knot of irritation worked itself in her chest. "…Well, that complicates things," she sighed flatly.
*Knock knock knock, ttok-ttok-ttok*
Speak of the devil.
[???] spun toward the door.. "Who's there?"
"Dear sister, it's me. You need not sound so hostile…" a languid voice drawled through the wood.
Her eyes narrowed. "…Prince Justin?"
"Of course. Who else would come calling so early for the empire's beloved Second Princess?"
The second imperial princess, Mel Mizu-Bonaparte, tightened her jaw and said nothing.
"May I come in, Mel?" Prince Justin asked.
Mel quickly shoved the gag back into Jeanne's mouth and pulled the blindfold down again. Jeanne barely reacted, only making a soft, dazed noise.
"Of course," Mel replied smoothly. "Cacher."
She murmured the incantation under her breath. Her cloak and witch's hat melted soundlessly into the shadows. She couldn't have anyone finding out about her dealings with the tainted witches, after all.
*Deol-keo-deok*
The door slid open and Prince Justin stepped inside. He was tall and slender, fox-eyed and immaculately dressed—crisp white shirt, fitted vest, tailored slacks. A sky-blue cravat was cinched neatly around his throat, and rings glinted across his fingers. Everything about him looked expensive and fake.
His gaze landed on the bed, where Jeanne was lying, bound, blindfolded, and gagged. Justin raised a brow. "That's certainly...an interesting way to treat your staff, Mel."
"Please state your business, Your Highness." Mel asked politely.
Justin's eyes drifted back to Mel. He slowly looked her over, from Mel's small face, down the line of her slender neck, and lower. Mel felt her skin crawl. Her lips twitched into a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"You've grown up nicely, Mel." Justin smiled.
Mel had no response but to dig her nails into her palm behind her back.
If they hadn't shared a father, she had no doubt Justin would have already tried the same thing he'd just implied—used her like a toy, though she doubted he'd have any single shred of mercy that she'd shown with Jeanne. Even then, she wondered if Justin considered her anything more than a half-breed, given they didn't share the same mother.
"I merely wished to see my dear little sister before she leaves," Justin drawled, amused. He leaned casually against the wall, still watching her. "After all, it isn't every day the empire sends the Princess Mel Mizu-Bonaparte off to Chrysanthemum Academy."
Mel bowed shallowly. "I'm grateful to have Prince Justin, Crown Prince of the Empire, looking after me."
"Yes… well." His eyes flicked once more to the bed, where Jeanne was still trembling slightly. "…Have fun. If you ever get tired of that one, I'd be happy to take her off your hands."
Then he turned smoothly and walked out.
Mel stared at the door for a long moment.
"…Fucking asshole," she growled. "One day, I'm going to kill him."
With a flick of Mel's wrist, her room's latch snapped into place before she turned back to the bed, quickly undoing Jeanne's ropes. Jeanne's breathing was still uneven and her eyes glassy as the maid rubbed her wrists weakly.
"New plan," Mel said. Her aquamarine eyes gleamed faintly in the dim room. "You're sorry for spying on me, aren't you, Jeanne?"
Jeanne made a small sound that might have been a word. Or a whimper. Her gaze struggled to focus on Mel's face.
"Ah," Mel smiled softly. "Right~ You're still out of it." She snapped her fingers. "Contraindre."
Dark-blue chains slipped from her fingertips like living things, darting forward before sinking into Jeanne's abdomen. Jeanne gasped, but the chains didn't hurt. Instead, they formed a glowing circle against her skin before fading away.
"…I should've done this much sooner," Mel sighed. She crouched slightly, meeting Jeanne's unfocused eyes. "Well, Jeanne. You obey only me now. No one else."
Her finger pointed sharply toward the door. Mel smiled. "Ignore that Justin bastard. You're mine now~ Understood?"
Jeanne blinked slowly, then nodded. Mel leaned forward, taking Jeanne's chin between her fingers and tilting her face up. The maid's pupils were still blown wide. Mel figured Jeanne was barely coherent, but it was good enough.
She could probably understand her.
"Right," Mel said, releasing her. "Help me pack."
"E-Ehh…?" Jeanne swayed slightly as she tried to sit up straight.
Mel was already walking toward her closet. "We're leaving for Chrysanthemum as soon as possible." She paused at the wardrobe door and glanced back. "Preferably before my brother decides to come back," she added.
Jeanne swallowed, still flushed, and shaky. "…Y-Yes… milady."