Wendy felt like a porcelain doll, shattered and then clumsily glued back together by a bumbling craftsman.
He was thrown roughly onto the soft, large bed, his whole body sinking into the velvet bedding, unable to move.
A strange, alien sensation ran through his limbs and bones, something not his own.
Phantom limb pain stabbed him like countless cold steel needles scraping across his nerve endings.
The burning body pressing down on him was so familiar, yet so unfamiliar.
It wasn’t his Princess.
It was his… Master.
Wendy didn’t even dare look at those eyes—eyes completely devoured by grayish purple, swirling with a sickness and madness he couldn’t begin to understand.
He was finished.
From the moment he chose to confess, he’d placed himself on the lioness’s dinner plate.
Yet strangely, amidst the overwhelming fear and pain, a deeper emotion surfaced, like a reef revealed after the tide recedes.
Guilt.
Even if it was by accident…
He was the one who betrayed her first, the one who lied to her first.
So, everything he was enduring now… wasn’t it the punishment he deserved?
The thought, once formed, grew like wild vines, wrapping around his collapsing heart.
Yes… this is what I deserve.
This is the price I must pay for betraying her love.
The moment this twisted logic completed a loop in his mind, the searing phantom limb pain seemed almost bearable.
Tension and fear ebbed away like the tide, replaced by a near-liberating calm.
He no longer trembled; his body relaxed in a strange way.
Astreia noticed his change instantly, the smile at her lips deepening, a hint of mischievous triumph in her gaze.
“Have you come to terms with it?”
Wendy slowly opened his eyes. In those beautiful, peach blossom eyes, pain and fear lingered, but now there was also a broken, resigned acceptance.
“…Yes.”
He finally found his voice, hoarse and rough.
“I’m sorry.”
“Good boy.”
Astreia smiled in satisfaction.
She propped herself up, admiring the man beneath her who had lost all will to resist—like admiring her most perfect trophy.
“But, I’m curious.”
Her tone shifted.
She leaned down, lips close to Wendy’s ear, her voice dropping to a low, magnetic whisper—a devil’s temptation, dripping with deadly allure.
“My dear sister, and my good friend… how exactly did they… play with my belongings?”
Wendy froze.
This question was more painful, more humiliating than any torture.
It was like forcing him to recite his own crimes, exposing secrets that belonged only to the three of them, laying them bare before the rightful owner.
He instinctively wanted to refuse, to shake his head.
But when he saw the flash of icy killing intent in Astreia’s eyes, all resistance crumbled in an instant.
He had no doubt that if he dared utter a single “no,” the experience of having his limbs severed would repeat itself at once.
And this time, she might not bother piecing him back together.
In the face of ultimate fear—of life and death—pride and shame became utterly meaningless.
Wendy closed his eyes, like a prisoner who had given up all resistance, and began to speak in a numb, emotionless tone, word by word, revealing all the absurd details.
From Yekaterina’s small feet wrapped in black fishnet stockings teasing beneath the tablecloth—
To Laxana’s foot in a white knee-high boot staking its claim—
To the breathtaking, silent war waged beneath General Sera’s watchful eyes—
He spoke slowly, each word slicing his own flesh like a dull knife.
Astreia listened in silence, her expression unchanged, only the vortex in her gray-violet eyes spinning ever faster, ever deeper.
Until the Prince finished the last word.
The bedchamber fell into dead silence once more.
Wendy could feel the body atop him grow even hotter, breathing quicker.
He waited for a new wave of punishment.
But the expected violence never came—only a low, delighted chuckle.
“So that’s how it was. Fishnet stockings… knee-high boots… Sounds rather interesting.”
She licked her lips, her gaze bright with the delight of discovering a new toy.
“If they could play, then of course, so can I.”
As her words fell, a surge of pure, overwhelming magic erupted from Astreia.
Under Wendy’s stunned gaze, countless slender, dark purple magic threads appeared out of thin air, twisting through the air like living vines, winding up Astreia’s long, beautiful legs.
Magic threads wove and curled, sketching—
Soon, a pair of dark purple fishnet stockings with intricate lace, shimmering with a bewitching luster, appeared on her legs, fitting perfectly to every inch of skin, outlining a forbidden, alluring beauty.
But that wasn’t all.
More magic gathered at her feet, shaping itself.
As the glow faded, a pair of patent leather high-heeled boots—at least ten centimeters tall, gleaming purple, reaching above the knees—replaced her original military boots.
“Click.”
Astreia straightened, standing on the carpet at the edge of the bed in high-heeled boots woven from magic, the sharp sound echoing in the silence.
She stood tall, gazing down at the man who had utterly lost the will to resist.
Beneath a white shirt, dark purple fishnet stockings.
On straight, slender legs, gleaming purple knee-high boots.
The contrast between this outfit and her usually dignified, heroic face was jarring—almost violently so.
“How is it, Wendy?”
Astreia slowly raised one leg, placing the booted foot gently on the Prince’s chest.
The cold patent leather, the sharp heel—pressing through thin fabric, sent a wave of oppressive force.
“Compared to my sister and Miss Klein…”
She traced the tip of her shoe slowly, humiliatingly, down Wendy’s body, from his chest to his lower abdomen.
“Am I more beautiful… or are they more tempting?”
Wendy’s breath stopped.
He stared at the woman before him—at her mad, gorgeous smile, at the overpowering possessiveness that seemed to fill the world.
He knew then—he was utterly finished.
From body to soul, he had been completely conquered by this Princess turned witch, with no hope of escape.
Yet in that moment of utter humiliation and despair, a strange current—one even he hadn’t realized—sparked from where the heel pressed into him, spreading through his whole body.
Wendy’s lips twisted into a broken, blissful smile.
Repayment had only just begun.
So had the fall ❤️.