The ambiguous steam swirling in the bathhouse seemed to be sucked away in an instant, replaced by a chilling murderous intent that swept over him.
“You’re thinking about another woman in front of me again?!”
“Eh? No, I…”
Wendy had just begun to explain, when his throat suddenly tightened. An irresistible force hauled him up out of the water, his feet instantly dangling in the air!
The delicate hand that had been gently washing his back only moments before now gripped him like an iron vice, making the bones in his neck groan under the unbearable pressure.
Prince Wendy, once again, had his fate gripped by the throat!
A deep sense of frustration welled up in Wendy’s heart—he almost cursed out loud. He’d made a fatal mistake: he’d overestimated his own importance, and completely underestimated the obsessive possessiveness that seeped into one’s very bones after becoming a Witch.
Trying to reason with a yandere Witch who’d just knocked over the vinegar jar? That’s no different from lighting a match beside a barrel of gunpowder!
“So it seems you really can’t forget about her, can you?” Astreia’s voice was soft, yet each word sliced into the Prince’s nerves like a red-hot blade. “What is it? Does that woman have more tricks than I do, or is her taste even more addictive to you than mine?”
Wendy shook his head with difficulty, his face twisted from lack of oxygen.
That astonishing softness pressing against his chest rose and fell with the Witch’s interrogation. The pain of suffocation and a contradictory, twisted pleasure tangled together like an inescapable net, binding his soul tight.
The Witch seemed to savor the Prince’s current expression; instead of letting go, she pressed Wendy even deeper into her embrace, as if to knead him entirely into her own body, smothering every trace that did not belong to her with her own breath.
“It hurts… Don’t… do this…”
“I… really can’t…”
“Mm…!”
Wendy’s cheeks were forced deep into the scalding embrace, his nose filled with the domineering, intoxicating scent of corruption—yet he couldn’t draw in a single breath.
Instinctively, he began to struggle, even opening his mouth to bite. His free hand clawed at her arm in return.
His dangling feet thrashed wildly on the surface of the water, sending up great splashes.
He wasn’t afraid of dying beautifully in her arms like this; what he feared was ending up like he did before in the Stable—uttering those mortifying, shameful moans in the throes of suffocation!
He absolutely didn’t want to make that awful sound ever again!
Yet the more he struggled, the tighter the Witch pressed down. His pitiful strength, to the Witch Queen at this moment, was no different than a kitten’s feeble protest.
That fierce biting soon lost control, turning into submissive licking; his desperate counter-grip turned into a weak, powerless caress.
Moments later, all Wendy could see was a dazzling field of white. His eyes began to roll back, his consciousness spinning.
It’s so hard to bear, so painful…
But… why… do I still want more, and more…
I’m about to die, so why does my body feel so good…
I… I really am hopeless…
At last, his brain, starved of oxygen, stopped functioning.
The last sliver of light in his vision was swallowed by darkness.
The Prince’s arms fell limply, his tongue stilled, his tense toes twitching twice in the air before falling utterly silent.
The body that had been struggling a moment ago suddenly went slack, hanging like a broken doll in the Witch’s arms.
At last, she seemed satisfied.
Astreia gently lifted Wendy from her suffocating embrace.
In the dim candlelight, the Prince’s stunningly beautiful face wore an expression of ultimate bliss—an unmistakable Ahegao, his cheeks flushed with an unnatural blush.
“Hehe, what a terrible face you’re making~”
Astreia chuckled softly, tasting the tongue that had been forced out by suffocation, her eyes narrowing in utter satisfaction.
“Delicious, truly~”
Then she kissed him fiercely. A torrent of pure, surging Black Magic poured from her mouth, flooding into the Prince’s body.
“Thump!”
“Thump! Thump!”
The silent heart was forcibly reignited by this domineering power.
Wendy’s eyes flew open, his body jolting backward as if struck by lightning, gulping in air.
Then, the Witch’s teasing, demonic face came into clear view.
“As I thought… you really do like being treated this way, my dear Prince Wendy Black.”
Wendy gasped for breath, too busy to be angry at the “murderer” who’d just killed him. Instead, that soul-piercing taunt had him coughing violently, weakly pushing at the Witch and struggling to explain: “No, it’s not… I didn’t…”
“Still trying to deny it!”
Purple flames flared again in Astreia’s eyes as she moved to press him back into her arms.
“You think I can’t tell?!”
“Your body is far more honest than your mouth!”
In the bathhouse, the two of them faced each other bare and open—there was nowhere to hide, not even the trembling of a single muscle.
What should have been an utterly steamy, ambiguous scene had now become damning evidence of the Prince’s terrible XP.
Wendy could no longer control his body’s instincts, and thus could no longer deceive himself.
So, he chose to give up all resistance.
“Fine,” Prince Wendy hung his head in defeat, his cheeks bouncing weakly against the fragrant softness, his voice muffled as he spoke.
“Do as you wish. I can’t fight back, I can’t escape, and honestly, I don’t want to anymore…”
That crisp, straightforward surrender made Astreia pause for a moment.
The smile on her lips froze, as if she’d punched a pillow instead of a wall.
But in the next instant, she grabbed Wendy by the back of the neck and, like tossing a chick, flung the Prince clinging to her straight backward.
“Splosh!”
“Cough, cough, cough…”
Wendy, caught off guard, choked on several mouthfuls of water before finally surfacing, staring resentfully at the culprit: “Astreia! What are you doing all of a sudden?!”
He’d nearly cracked his head on the edge of the bath, having no idea what kind of madness this woman was up to now.
Astreia, however, stretched out lazily by the poolside again, propping her fragrant cheek on one hand as she beamed at him.
“You were thinking about another woman right in front of me.”
“That was your mistake.”
“And when you make a mistake…”
“You must be punished.”
Wendy’s face fell. He finally understood—this Witch wasn’t interested in explanations; she just wanted to cause trouble. He could only spread his hands helplessly: “Fine, fine… Your Majesty the Queen, just say it—how do you want to punish your disobedient Prince Consort? I’ll take it all.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Astreia grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Amidst the swirling steam, she turned slightly, flipping her platinum hair with a flourish.
The lines of her back became clear beneath the hazy lamplight.
“Come, scrub your Queen’s back!”
“Uh???”
Wendy’s eyes went wide as saucers.
“Y-you said what?!”