Free Web NovelChapter 220: Chapter 220
Circe lifted the page fully now, her pulse stuttering as her eyes skimmed the inked lines, lines that grew progressively, alarmingly explicit with every sentence. The longer she read, the more clearly she realized exactly what she held. A page from an unfinished manuscript.
An erotic romance manuscript.
Her eyes dropped again to the text, and she forced herself to read the next line. And then the next.
’He had her bent over the desk, skirts rucked to her waist, the cool wood biting into her palms as she braced herself. One of his hands pinned both her wrists at the small of her back while the other slid between her thighs without ceremony, two fingers thrusting deep as his thumb circled that swollen, aching place between her thighs. She was dripping for him, had been since he had whispered what he intended to do the moment the door to his study closed. When he finally freed himself and drove into her in one brutal thrust, she cried out, loud enough that the footman in the hall surely heard, and neither of them cared...’ fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
Circe’s brows climbed. Then climbed higher.
By the time her gaze reached the bottom of the page, she was certain her face was a shifting battlefield of emotions: shock, confusion, disbelief and, most damning of all... intrigue.
She blinked once, then again, as if her mind needed time to catch up with what she was reading.
That was when she noticed the silence.
The soft chatter she had been listening to earlier was gone. There was no sound of Mina’s and Elara’s laughter or even their constant playful banter. Not even the shuffle of footsteps. Just silence
Circe turned slowly, the scandalous page pinched between her fingers as though it might ignite at any second.
Mina stood a few paces away, frozen in place, her usually fair cheeks flushed a spectacular shade of crimson. Elara hovered beside her, teetering between a hysterical fit of laughter and wide-eyed shock. Her hand clamped over her mouth, her gaze flicking between Mina’s mortified silence and the incriminating manuscript page in Circe’s hand.
One glance at the two of them was all Circe needed to determine precisely whom the manuscript belonged to.
"You wrote this?" Circe asked, her voice torn between disbelief and a kind of stunned admiration.
Mina surged forward in a desperate rustle of silk, plucking the paper from her fingers as fast as possible. "I can explain," she blurted, the words tumbling out in a frantic whisper. "You weren’t supposed to read that."
It was almost comical. The bold, silver-tongued Mina, who never hesitated to speak her mind, was now floundering to find the right words.
"Will that explanation involve how you write erotic tales during your leisure hours?" Elara drawled, her smile playful.
Mina shot her a glare capable of stripping paint off a wall. Elara merely lifted a brow and turned toward Circe with exaggerated innocence.
"Your Highness," she said sweetly, "didn’t I tell you before? Lady Mina Hawthorne is a lover of literature... of every imaginable variety."
Circe did remember something like that, Elara offhandedly mentioning Mina’s "eclectic reading habits." The comment had been so vague that she didn’t understand it back then.
This was not the sort of hobby a noblewoman was expected to have. If word of this somehow escaped the walls of Mina’s home, it would ignite a scandal fierce enough to scorch her reputation for years. Noblewomen were meant to embroider, host soirées, play the harp, and pretend not to know what passion looked like beyond a dutiful marital embrace.
Startled laughter burst out of Circe before she could stop it, bright and breathless, bubbling up so abruptly she braced a hand against the nearest desk to steady herself.
Because of all the things she had anticipated discovering in Mina’s immaculately organized library, erotic manuscript pages had not even been a distant possibility.
Mina’s blush deepened, but she didn’t look upset. Even as her toes curled in embarrassment, she wasn’t offended that Circe had read her work. freewёbnoνel.com
Only two people knew her secret.
Elara. Gracil. And now Circe.
She had been revising her manuscript earlier that afternoon before her guests arrived, leaving the pages spread across the desk so the ink could dry cleanly. Unfortunately, that also meant leaving them out in the open, within reach of the curious princess who had wandered toward the table.
"Your writing is really good," Circe said at last, once her laughter had subsided enough for her to breathe properly. "Truly. Have you published any of your works?"
The question transformed Mina instantly. Her shoulders straightened and her chin lifted. Mortification melted into a bloom of pride that softened her entire posture.
"Four in total," she said, clearing her throat and attempting to sound dignified. "Published anonymously, of course. Though my most recent one has become quite popular among noblewomen who prefer their books to be a little more... informative."
Circe bit down a laugh.
Elara wheezed.
"’Informative’ is certainly one word for it," Elara managed between giggles.
Mina swatted her arm, though her lips betrayed her with the hint of a smile.
Circe smiled too, feeling something inside her loosen, some knot of anxiety she had been carrying all day without fully realizing it. She had come seeking distraction, something harmless and simple to clear her mind of the dread coiled tight within her.
She had not expected that distraction to arrive in the form of Mina’s scandalous, secret life as an anonymous author of forbidden tales.
***
The carriage rocked beneath them as it jostled over a stretch of uneven road. Lady Taryn sat beside her daughter, Avarine, while Rylan occupied the opposite bench. Considering how long the journey to Amris had dragged on, it was something of a miracle that neither sibling had snapped at the other.
Avarine had shifted toward the window the moment they crossed into Amris, her gaze fixed on the rolling fields and towering trees streaming past. She had been oddly enchanted by this place since childhood, an attachment Rylan neither shared nor fully respected.
The fact that he knew exactly why she loved Amris only made it worse in his eyes, and his disapproval sat plainly on his face.
Not that it had ever mattered. His opinions were always brushed aside.
"—time away from the capital will do our family so much good," Lady Taryn was saying.
Rylan had only caught the tail end of her sentence. He didn’t bother to respond and his mother didn’t seem to require his participation in the conversations.
He was here for one reason, to court Sasha Arnild properly. His mother’s motives, and Avarine’s, were entirely different.
Lady Taryn continued in that serene, unshakeable voice she reserved for her children.
"And if everything goes well, this might even become dear Avarine’s new home. Isn’t that right, my love?" Her eyes gleamed sharply with ambition.
Avarine turned from the window, her smile charming and bright. "It would truly be a dream come true. And we mustn’t forget about the ball."
Lady Taryn’s face lit with maternal pride. "Of course not. A ball worthy of my precious girl."
Rylan watched the interaction silently and could barely stop his lips from twisting into a disgusted sneer. The curl threatening his lips was not jealousy—Avarine had always had their mother wrapped tightly around her finger. It was because sometimes, he felt like the only reasonable person in his family, the only one that wasn’t blinded by delusions.
