Toxic Marriage - Chapter 21.1

Chapter 21.1

Freya’s eyes shook as she remained silent. Fenrir continued, calmly.

“If I tell you to tie your hands and feet, you’ll have to tie them. If I tell you to spread your legs before me, you’ll have to do so.”

“…”

“According to your own words.”

Tap, tap. As Fenrir’s finger moved up and down, just like when he made her body boil with lust to force her to eat during dinner, a small sound resonated.

It was a bad sign.

“… I made a mistake.”

Freya bowed her head again but in a deeper, more submissive way, as if to say it wouldn’t happen.

Yet, she didn’t feel the slightest sense of humiliation, because of the primal fear she felt and the sense of liberation that would be achieved if she endured this moment. ‘So, please,’ she prayed.

Freya raised her head when she heard no sound.

“Please forgive me just this once.”

“Without getting anything in return?”

The corners of his mouth rose leisurely.

“I have nothing to give you.”

Freya had nothing to say except for finding fault with herself, so she decided to negotiate by keeping her head down.

“If something like this happens again, then what?”

“It’s not going to happen,” Freya answered without hesitation, even though she tried drawing countless escape plans in her head.

Perhaps satisfied with that attitude, Fenrir permitted it.

“Alright. If you break your promise, then I’ll take what’s precious to you.”

“…”

“Do you not like that?”

Did he really figure out what was precious to her, that he was saying something like that?

However, despite the sudden anxiety, Freya had a set of words she could say right away.

“Yes, we can do that.”

***

Erik let out a sigh of relief when he saw Freya come out of the office unscathed. There didn’t seem to be any loud noises coming from inside, but he was worried as the conversation went on for a long time.

‘So it’s okay, right?’

Freya seemed somehow depressed as she followed the maid.

Erik tried to turn away from her figure and asked his master, who was on the other side of the door.

“It’s Erik, Master. May I come in?”

The door opened, and Erik stepped inside. He wanted to know his master’s mood after speaking with Freya.

“May I ask how you handled the matter with Miss Freya?”

“I just sent her back.”

Erik opened his eyes wide. He had predicted that, at the very least, he would order her to be put on probation, or at worst, be confined with her hands and feet tied.

But the reason he didn’t take any action was probably because he expected her to behave well after being caught once, right?

“You’re wise. Even if you didn’t scare her, she would have been frustrated enough already.”

Fenrir laughed at those words.

“Did Freya Lindberg look frustrated to you?”

Erik scratched his chin, not knowing the intent of the question.

“Yes… I think she was trying not to show it because of her pride, but I could tell from the way she looked that she was frustrated.”

“So, you believe the expressions you see.”

“… Right?”

When Fenrir got up from his seat, Erik’s eyes followed his tall figure. His face, rising high, looked particularly somber today.

“Do you still trust people?”

Erik pondered what to say to the meaningful question. He could neither say that he did nor that he didn’t.

It was obvious that there were people in this god-forsaken land who just thought about stabbing others in the back in order to survive, but he also believed that there were good people, like flowers blooming even in the cold snow.

But answering like that might sound like deception to his master.

Erik had only spent twenty years on this earth, but he, on the other hand, had been here for over 100 years. If he had spent such a long time in Niflheim, his thoughts might have been different.

To that extent, Niflheim was a terrible land.

“I don’t know… Maybe it depends on the person…”

“Is that so?”

“… Yes. What does Master think?”

Erik asked, even though he seemed to know the answer. Hearing that question, there was coldness in Fenrir’s eyes for the first time.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

With those words, Fenrir walked towards one wall of the office.

The wall was adorned with several weapons. Without any hesitation, Fenrir took out the longest bow. The bow, with a bowstring that was made of processed horse hide, had the best range and power.

But why did he suddenly take out the bow…

“Erik.”

Erik, who was stunned by the unusual atmosphere, did not delay in answering the call.

“Yes.”

“Sharpen the arrows at the archery field.”

That order was also unusual.

“… How much should I sharpen them?”

When sharpening swords and arrows, it usually depends on their intended use.

‘Moderately’ so as not to interfere with practice, ‘sharply’ when hunting small animals, and ‘very sharply’ to kill an animal in one breath when hunting at night.

“Very sharply.”

It wasn’t a good answer.

Very sharply… It meant that his master would seriously hunt for something.

Erik trembled at what was about to happen, but he bowed his head and left to execute the order he was given.