On the way back to the Capital, Roy and Theodore shared a carriage.
They remained silent, neither had the intention to speak.
Theodore was reading a book. It was a theoretical study on Magic Mechanization, opaque and abstract, with most of its contents being fanciful and unrealistic.
In poems and legends, magic holds terrifying power. But in reality, spells can only serve for healing and effect amplification, often connected with medicine.
The nation still needs a powerful army, nobles skilled in leading battles, and a large number of cheap Beastman soldiers. On the battlefield, mages are always at the back, wielding staffs and books, using lengthy chants to ignite all the power within the soldiers' bodies.
During rest, they bring out potions and treat the severely wounded one by one.
At this thought, Theodore glanced at Roy.
He remembered she was also a student at the Similan Magic Academy. Studying White Magic and Economics.
Roy would likely never have the chance to go to the battlefield. Like every woman from the Derek family, Miss Roy's appearance is gentle and beautiful, always graceful and proper, flawless. Just as she is sitting in the carriage now, her back straight, hands overlapping on her lap, not complaining a bit about the bumpy ride.
Such a woman is most suitable to marry into the Royal Family.
Moreover, her father, Duke Lyman, is the Minister of Finance of Valtorre, holding enough connections and power.
Theodore rubbed his tired brow.
These days, he had been persuading himself to forget everything that happened in the underground interrogation room. He is a Prince raised strictly under royal education, always able to remain calm, analyze pros and cons, unaffected by emotions.
Yet the scene of Elrian violating Roy lingered in his mind. Theodore remembered how this blond man thrust his thick member into his fiancée's body, causing her to convulse; he also remembered the squelching sound as the flesh moved, and the mixed moans and cries of the man and woman.
Avoidance is the act of a coward, so he did not close his eyes the entire time, feeling Elrian's humiliation.
Due to a severe obsession with cleanliness and the post-event surge of anger, Theodore vomited upon returning to Wade Castle. After vomiting, cleaning himself up, he was still the First Prince of Valtorre.
He is the restrained and rational Theodore Romano.
He exhaled slowly, his gloved hands clasped together in a negotiating posture.
"Miss Derek." He called out Roy's family name, "The matter has passed. I assure you with the Royal Family's honor, that the experiences in the interrogation room will remain a permanent secret."
Theodore's tone was calm, with a hint of detachment in the calmness.
"Even if you have lost your purity, our engagement will not be affected. Three months later, when you graduate from Similan Academy, the wedding will be held." He looked at Roy sitting opposite, his dark eyes reflecting a frosty hue, "Miss Derek, do you understand what I mean?"
Roy curved her lips slightly, "I understand."
She understood all too well.
Theodore felt Roy's expression was somewhat indescribably peculiar.
He tried to ignore the unusual feeling rising in his heart and continued, "I should make it clearer. Miss Derek, what I mean is, please do not show sadness or upset in front of others, which might arouse suspicion. You can still be my wife, there's nothing to be sad about."
How arrogant a statement.
Roy held a smile at the corner of her mouth, seemingly tired as she closed her eyes.
"Yes, I have nothing to be sad about."
Theodore still felt something amiss.
His gaze lowered and saw her chest was empty without any adornment. The silver necklace with black diamonds had somehow disappeared.
"Your..."
As he began, the carriage jolted, and Theodore lost the desire to inquire.
He continued flipping through the tedious book, the pages making a faint rustle. The bright sunlight crept into the carriage, showering over him, yet unable to melt his cold, indifferent features.
From Wade Castle back to the Capital, it took ten days.
This was still with the accompanying mage using a Speed Enhancement Scroll on the horses.
After reaching the Capital, there were lengthy and tiresome social interactions and greetings. Roy had to muster her spirits, first having afternoon tea with the Empress in the palace, chatting about the trip's interesting stories with the noblewomen, then returning to her own residence to receive her mother's admonishments and inquiries.
After barely managing everyone, she hurriedly took a bath and collapsed onto the soft bed, falling asleep.
In her dreams, Roy seemed to return to the damp underground interrogation room. She was being held by Elrian, moving up and down, her pale breasts bouncing wildly. The horrific and grotesque member thrusting in and out, staining her thighs with a white liquid.
It hurt.
Her belly felt so bloated.
The pang of fullness was mixed with a strange tingle, forcing her to moan and cry.
"No..."
In the chaos, it seemed like someone was wiping her face. The movements were gentle and cautious, with a comforting intent.
Roy sniffled as she barely opened her eyes, seeing a burly man kneeling by her bed. He wasn't wearing a guard's uniform, only a shirt, with a few buttons undone at the collar, revealing a muscular chest and glimpses of blue scales.
His neck was also covered in fine blue scales. But his face was clean, nearly devoid of non-human traits, with deep and rugged features and narrow eyes, except that his pupils were blood red.
Roy recognized this being.
Or perhaps it should not be called a person.
Soto was a hybrid of Snow Wolf, snake, and human, with reportedly a trace of giant lizard bloodline.
He was her personal guard, and because Theodore disliked beastmen, he couldn't accompany her on the trip. In reality, Soto's abilities far surpassed those of ordinary guards, and if he had been there, perhaps the incident would not have occurred.
Roy lost herself in thought for a moment, turning her head to avoid Soto's hand.
"Don't touch me."
Soto was holding a handkerchief, carefully wiping her sweat. Hearing this, he held his breath, withdrawing his right hand somewhat helplessly, the fingers covered with dark blue scales nearly crumpling the handkerchief into shreds.