* * *

The line of carriages headed north stretched long and far.

It was my first journey since getting sucked into this novel, so I couldn’t help but feel a bit excited.

Sure, the main goal was to stop Freya, but since we were already going to the north, I wanted to make the most of it and enjoy the trip.

“Ugh…”

Only two days had passed since I’d been excited about the trip, yet here I was now, pale-faced and throwing up everything I’d eaten.

Watching me retch, Marchen, who was puffing on a cigar by the bushes, clicked his tongue.

“The roads here are especially rough. If you’ve never traveled far, of course you’ll get carsick. Hang in there for one day, Jeanne.”

“Fine, I get it, just… please back off…”

Before I could even finish, I leaned forward again, vomiting out the few bites of bread I’d managed last night.

I noticed the carriages stopping for my sake and sighed as I looked up at the darkening sky.

I spat out some water with difficulty, thinking to myself, ‘This is so embarrassing… What a nuisance I am.’

Once back in the carriage, I threw myself under a blanket.

Though I hadn’t eaten since midday, my stomach was too unsettled to manage anything.

I could hear Jerome and Marchen talking just outside.

“The number of monsters has definitely increased. It wasn’t this bad before.”

“Could this be because of the corruption of the sacred beast?”

“Possibly. For now, let’s stay here for the night…”

Unlike me, who felt completely drained, Marchen and Jerome seemed just as energetic as ever.

I couldn’t help but feel a bit downhearted, chalking it up to the difference in muscle mass, when Jerome suddenly appeared, opening the carriage door.

“Why are you looking so down? Doesn’t suit you.”

His perception was as sharp as ever.

Jerome climbed into the carriage and sat beside me as I curled up, muttering in a small, defeated voice.

“I just feel like… I’m not really helpful.”

“No, you are. You help me every night by appearing in my dirty dreams.”

“Not in that way…”

The revelation that I appeared in Jerome’s explicit dreams only made my stomach churn more.

Sensing my reaction, Jerome looked at me with an unreadable expression before speaking.

“I’m not sure what it feels like to want to be helpful… but seeing you like this makes me a little gloomy too. Should I cast a spell to make you less sad?”

“No, that’d just be an escape. Just go on without worrying about me.”

“Did you already forget the vows we exchanged at our wedding? It’s a husband’s duty to take care of his wife when she’s feeling down.”

Not only had we never actually had a wedding, but no such vows were made—yet his serious tone almost made me wonder, ‘Did we, somehow?’

Before I could question him, he effortlessly lifted me up.

Too exhausted to resist, I let him hold me.

Jerome looked at me, worried, then spoke in a bright voice.

“I’ll tell you something fun to cheer you up. Jeanne, have you seen the huge baobab tree in the marketplace?”

“Yes.”

“Well, every hundred years, someone’s rumored to hang themselves on that tree. And guess what? This year marks exactly one hundred years.”

Jerome burst into laughter. Judging by his genuine amusement, he really found the story funny.

I managed to compose myself and asked in a steady tone.

“What’s so funny about that story?”

“Huh? Isn’t it hilarious that someone dangles there every century?”

“That’s creepy! Only you would find that amusing!”

Annoyed, I shouted at him, then coughed.

The sudden emotion must have made me choke.

While I tried to catch my breath, Jerome’s hand came down and gently patted my back.

Then I felt something hard pressing against my lower back—it was his arousal.

I grabbed his hand as it slid lower.

I knew where this was headed based on past experience.

With a scowl, I warned him.

“Seriously? How are you even aroused? Does talking about people hanging make you hard? Not that I expected you to be normal…”

“…”

“Not now. There are people outside.”

From beyond the carriage, I could hear the voices of mercenaries laughing and talking.

Ignoring them, Jerome moved to lay me back, our legs tangling.

Memories of the last time he’d used magic to force my body to climax without my consent rushed back.

‘Do I have to go through that again?’

My cheeks grew hot as I recalled it.

Just thinking about it was enough to make my heart race.

Jerome caught my gaze, and I turned my head quickly, but he watched me intently, a faint smile on his face.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Some memories live on in the body, not the mind.”

With that, he slipped my hand under his tunic.

His muscles were so defined, almost intimidating.

As I instinctively squeezed, his stomach muscles contracted slightly.

He grasped my wrist gently and moved my hand downward.

Scars from battles and past injuries brushed against my fingertips. In a soft voice, Jerome whispered.

“I know. That you find comfort in hurting yourself.”

Caught off guard, my mouth fell open.

Memories of standing helplessly at my father’s funeral surfaced.

It was strange—knowing it was in the past, yet feeling I could never forgive myself for it.

For accepting my father’s death so easily.

For giving up archery. For failing even in my new dreams.

Overwhelmed, I couldn’t find any words to reply, and I looked down in confusion.

Jerome leaned closer, murmuring like a lover.

“It may feel like you’re being pushed by circumstances, but… no. You’re deliberately diving into danger. That’s why you don’t hesitate to get hurt.”

“Jerome, stop.”

“But at the same time, you feel guilty, don’t you?”

The exposure of my deepest insecurities flooded me with shame.

My breathing quickened. Jerome traced a scar on my knee, one I’d earned while fleeing mercenaries hired by Derek’s slave-trading ring.

Pressing close, he guided my hand inside his pants, forcing my hand to wrap around his hardened length.

His hand rested atop mine, guiding my movements.

“I’ll take all of your guilt.”

As I tried to pull my hand back, he bit down gently on my neck, as if daring me to resist.

His warm breath lingered as he ran his tongue over my neck, and his hand over mine moved in rhythm.

His stormy gray eyes held a dark, hungry glint as he looked at me.

Outside, the chatter of the mercenaries continued, oblivious.

“Just let yourself be completely undone by my hands.”

The deep, low voice filled my ears.

Unlike me, barely able to breathe in fear of being discovered, Jerome remained utterly calm.

Just as I was about to close my eyes, trying to block out my sense of sight, something hot spilled onto my palm.

The thick liquid dampened my hand, dripping slowly between my fingers.

My scattered thoughts gradually came back into focus.

This was—well, it meant that this shameless, beast-like guy had unloaded all over my hand.

In a dazed voice, I muttered to myself.

“Is this…a dream?”

In response to my denial, Jerome, ever so “kind,” pulled his hand out of his pants to show me.

Before I could even react to the sheer volume, a droplet fell from his hand onto my chest.

I clenched and released my sticky hand; I’d never touched anyone else’s like this before.

Blankly, I mumbled.

“You betrayed me… You broke our unspoken promise.”

Without even realizing it, my voice took on an almost theatrical tone, heightened by the rush of emotions.

But just as I was beginning to feel relieved that it was over, he grabbed my other hand.

With a sigh, Jerome leaned his face onto my shoulder.

“Sorry, just bear with me a bit longer.”

The voice didn’t sound sorry at all.

---

Last night, this jerk had done everything he could without actually crossing the line.

He’d alternated between my left and right hands, even using my hair at one point.

If I tried to escape, he would grab me by the back of the head, capturing my tongue.

By the midpoint, I wanted to shout something like, “Sir Jerome, the person you’re playing with is actually a man! So please, have mercy on me!”

When Jerome, overcome by excitement, asked, “Jeanne, would you lie down for me?”

I instinctively shouted to call the police, but my rehearsed performance of distressed tears, prepared for a day like this, seemed to work.

Seeing me sniffling only seemed to excite him more, though, and he’d lifted my tunic while grinning wildly, until eventually, I passed out.

“What on earth happened last night for him to end up like that in just one day?” Marchen asked, looking at me with a puzzled expression.

Even though I’d cleaned my body thoroughly in the river, my mind still felt sullied.

Sitting there with the expression of a high school senior who’d just failed to get into their dream college, I saw Jerome making puppy eyes at me.

“Darling, don’t be mad. I already told you, it wasn’t my own will last night. I just happened to be temporarily possessed by the nearby spirit of lust…”

Ignoring Jerome’s pathetic excuse, I decided it would hurt him the most to pretend he didn’t exist.

Since I couldn’t win against him by force or with words, the next best thing was to treat him like air.

Arms crossed and eyes shut, I dismissed him completely, which made him lean against my shoulder.

“At least tell me how long you plan to ignore me. I’m on edge not knowing. I already told you, the best part of my day is talking to you… you know?”

He sighed, but I turned away, looking entirely glum.

Marchen, sensing the mood, clucked his tongue and waved a small mirror.

* * *