Raphael did not lie; no matter how hard Rosalie tried, he refused to let go of her, forcing her to pleasure him over and over, until there was nothing left for both of them. His touch was rough and heavy on her weak body, leaving painful marks of red and blue on her tender skin; his burning lips made sure to leave no part of her body untouched, and his wet tongue slid across her scented skin like a snake, leaving long, repulsive trails of its venom.
When he was finally satisfied, or perhaps simply conveniently tired, Raphael gave his sister a light kiss on the forehead and left the room, leaving nothing but deafening silence behind.
Rosalie was lying on her messy, damp bed, unable to move a single muscle. Her red, puffy eyes were staring at the emptiness in front of her, sucking in the darkness, exchanging it for what was left of her shattered soul. And when she thought that there was nothing left inside of her, the girl felt a new stream of hot tears flowing down her cheeks so rapidly and strongly, as if trying to help her empty her broken body of the pain and humiliation her brother filled it with earlier.
It was all too much. She thought it would be easier. She thought she would be able to endure it for the sake of her future in this world. But she failed.
'Whenever I read those transmigration stories, I envied the girls for being strong and determined to change their fates in order to survive against the plot... And I thought I could be one of them too. But I had no idea it could be this arduous.'
Truthfully, when Meiling first opened her eyes in this room and realized she was transported into the world of one of her favorite novels, she could not help but feel excited. Her boring and uneventful life as an overworked office dweller had finally taken a drastic turn, giving her a chance to embark on a rare adventure. However, even in her wildest dreams, she never expected it to be so miserable and draining.
'As if it is not enough to be entirely oblivious as to what happened to my real body, it has only been a little bit more than a week since I got here, and I have been already dehumanized by everyone around me, and to top it off – I have been sexually abused by my own brother. I feel so devastated and sick... It's all just too much.'
Rosalie felt something sticky covering her right palm and finally realized that she was clenching her fists too hard, breaking the newly grown skin over the long and rather deep wound that cut her palm like a dark river. The girl wiped her hand on the crumpled bed sheets and raised it above her face to take a better look at it.
'Oh... I keep forgetting about you.'
The wound was painfully fresh when Meiling woke up in Rosalie's body, but it was not caused by an accident or intended self-harm. According to the plot, the original Rosalie was the first one, apart from the Temple, to find out about the true nature of Damien's curse and, presumingly desperate to be with him, or, as some of the readers suggested, simply to find her way out of her brother's ruthless clutches and the hellish Ashter household itself, Rosalie Ashter made a deal with Asmodeus, the Prince of the Underworld and the Devil of Lust, and exchanged a part of her soul for a fragment of his power - the Acme Flow.
Rosalie was quite diligent in her research of Demonic contracts – as her brother was busy preparing for the Hunting Trip, she used that opportunity to spend her days cooped up in the Imperial Library, looking into the origins of Acme and the cult that kidnapped Damien Dio when he was a child, until she finally found an ancient scroll describing the long-forgotten and forbidden Demonic rituals used by pagans who wanted to overthrow the growing strength of the Empire-powered Temple.
The author did not really care about the specifics, so in order to summon Asmodeus, Rosalie had to use her own blood to draw the summoning circle, hence the deep cut on her palm. Her deal with Asmodeus seemed rather simple as well: Rosalie wanted the ability to refill the level of Acme in a person cursed with Acme Fever, while the cunning and greedy Demon only asked for a part of her soul in return. It was almost suspiciously easy.
The girl touched the sticky, blood-smeared surface of her right palm and let out a long sigh.
'Asmodeus promised Rosalie that her Acme Flow would make Damien addicted to her and she was excited to hear that. But was their deal really that simple? And what does it mean to sell only a part of your soul? Does it even work like that?'
If the original Rosalie did not bother to care about the details, the current Rosalie had no choice but to feel anxious. After all, what was even the point of trying to save herself if she would still end up dead due to her own impulsive and reckless choice?
'Nevertheless... What's done is done. For now, I have to make sure to succeed in approaching Damien Dio and not make the same mistake Rosalie made in the original plot. I will think about the contract when I'm out of this house.'
Her train of thought was interrupted by a light knock on the wooden door, followed by a familiar female voice asking for permission to come in. As Rosalie returned to reality and focused her eyes, she realized that it was already dawn, and the wakening sky was beginning to spread a bright pink glow across her quiet bedroom.
"Aurora, you may come in."
The maid opened the door and walked in holding a small silver tray with a white, ornamented teapot and a matching cup next to it. She rushed toward the bed, nearly dropped the tray onto the bedside table, and embraced her lady in a tight, affectionate hug, burying her crying face in Rosalie's messy hair.
"I'm so sorry, My Lady! I... I cannot even imagine what it feels like... I am so sorry!"
She kept stroking Rosalie's hair and apologizing as if she was the sole reason for the girl's pain and misfortune and Lady Ashter finally gave in – she started weeping like a child, choking on her tears and gasping for air, as if having a vigorous fit.
Rosalie did not know how many minutes or hours she spent crying in Aurora's arms, time became irrelevant, and all she wanted was to finally empty her soul until there was no more pain; until there were no trays of that horrible emotional torture.
Until there was absolutely nothing.
"Is the dress not too tight, My Lady?"
It was already the third time that Aurora asked that question. Having spent a sleepless night with Raphael, followed by a rather long and tiring crying session in her maid's arms, Rosalie was on the verge of crushing, therefore, neither the convenience nor the comfortable fit of her dress was her top priority, and she ended up ignoring that question for the third time as well.
Aurora, clearly disappointed by her lady's lack of interest in her own attire and worried for her overall state, let out a long, disapproving exhale and shook her head.
"Lady Rosalie, are you sure about going out today? You look very pale and I am scared you might drop unconscious at any moment!"
Rosalie looked at her reflection in the tall standing mirror and could not help but silently agree with the maid's words. Even her breathtaking looks could not compete with an entire night of mental torture, and although Aurora possessed makeup skills that might as well be called mere witchcraft, Rosalie's fatigue was still peeking from underneath her powdered mask, adding up to her overall sickly appearance.
"It's alright, I don't want to be cooped up in this room anymore, I need to go out."
The girl had been locked up in her bedroom the whole week, pretending to be sick while trying to adjust to her new reality and come up with a plan for her future, and while it was true that Rosalie was tired of staying inside and wanted to explore the world outside the Ashtor manor, the main reason why she wanted to leave was, undeniably, her brother Raphael.
'I would rather drop dead somewhere on the streets than see that scum smiling at me while stuffing his face with breakfast food.'
At first, Rosalie was worried that leaving the house without having breakfast with her family would make her father angry, but when Aurora brought her Manoria tea after Raphael left her room, she told her lady that Lord Ian Ashter had sent her additional money and instructed her to order a dress for the upcoming Imperial banquet.
The maid was also sneaky enough to find out from Raphael's aide that his morning training was canceled as he wanted to get more rest having just returned from an exhausting Hunting Trip, thus, the possibility of him tagging along with Rosalie just to watch her every move and, most importantly, to help her "pick a dress", was out of the way.
"Aurora, please check if the carriage is ready, we will have to depart right away."
"But My Lady, it is still too early, all the boutiques are closed!"
Rosalie took a seat behind a small wooden desk next to the bedroom's window, opened the desk drawer, and took out a new white envelope, a sheet of paper, a fountain pen, and her personal seal. She then looked at Aurora's bewildered face and smiled.
"That's alright. We will have to make another stop before reaching the shopping district."
***
Lady Ashter kept fidgeting with the pen between her long, slim fingers, while nervously staring at the blank page on the desk before her eyes.
'What do they even write in such letters? I've read so many novels and yet, I still cannot remember anything related to the personal correspondence among the nobility.'
She tapped her fingers on the desk for another few moments, then let out a long sigh, and shook her head. There was no time for hesitation, anything would do, as long as it piques the receiver's interest.
Thus, filled with the newly found confidence, Rosalie pulled the sheet of paper closer to her and started writing, carefully outlining each word, ensuring its readability, and when she was finally over with it, the girl put it inside the white envelope, wrote her name at the front, and closed it with her personal seal, pleased with the final result.
Right at that moment, as if by a lucky coincidence, Aurora peeked into Rosalie's bedroom and said, rather quietly,
"Lady Rosalie, the coach has been prepared."
"Perfect. Let us depart then."
***
Rosalie was looking outside the carriage window while clenching the white envelope in her pale, bony hands. She was feeling extremely anxious but also a little bit excited since she was about to finally meet the man who might be her only chance at a better life - Grand Duke Damien Dio, the male lead of "Acme Fever".
At last, clearly losing her patience while watching her mistress fidget with the already poorly-looking envelope, Aurora placed her rough hand on top of Rosalie's and asked in a somewhat reprimanding tone,
"My Lady, you are going to turn this letter into trash at this point! Here, let me hold it for you, I will make sure to keep it intact."
She carefully snatched the envelope out of Rosalie's hands, then tried to press it into a somewhat decent-looking state, noticing that the letter had no recipient name written on it. The maid hesitated for a second, however, since she still had no idea where they were headed before going to the Capital's shopping district, decided to voice her concern anyway,
"Pardon me, Lady Rosalie, but are you personally delivering this letter?"
Rosalie nodded, still looking out of the window, trying to soak in the soothing warmth of the morning sunlight and fill her stale lungs with the refreshing floral scent of the forest greenery.
She could have sent the letter with one of the butlers but was scared that Raphael might intercept it, which would obviously end in one of his mad, psychotic feats, and the mere thought of going through it was sending dreadful shivers down Rosalie's spine.
Since Lady Ashter offered her maid only a silent reply, Aurora's curiosity was justly unsatisfied, thus, she let out a short, nervous sigh, and tried again,
"Forgive me one more time, My Lady, but who is this letter intended for?"
At last, Rosalie unglued her eyes from the wonderful scenery outside the carriage and fixed her beautiful but tired grey eyes on her maid's restless face, not able to comprehend the woman's growing uneasiness, and when Aurora's expression began to turn sick with worry once again, she leaned back in her seat, trying to look as nonchalantly as possible, and granted her maid a much-awaited response,
"We are going to the Duke Dio's mansion."
"I beg your pardon?!"
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