Enid was curious—curious enough to hover by the door of Duke’s chamber in her nightgown, her hand clutching her shawl.

‘Okay,’ she thought. ‘This is fine. Everything’s fine. I’ve been summoned by the man who’s fought in wars since he was a child and once broke a man’s neck. For what? I’m not exactly sure.’

She raised her hand, paused, then lowered it.

Enid looked down at herself—she was in her nightgown. Her cotton, modest nightgown, whose hem frayed just about the ankle. The light from the hall’s lantern caught the shape of her body under it.

The outline of her large, soft, sagging breasts, of her belly, and her thick thighs.

Not what he asked for, but at least safe.

She couldn’t imagine herself actually arriving naked, like he wanted. She wasn’t sure if this was a summons for a punishment…but she couldn’t imagine it was for…another thing. She also doubted he’d wait any longer, either.

So, like a woman with no self-preservation, or worse, one who had been curious about her second possible death, slipped into the Duke’s office like a ghost. She didn’t ask for permission—she just wanted to hurry inside.

She would pay for her transgressions.

She’ll walk inside, he’ll laugh; he’ll laugh and say it was a test. He’ll send her back to get flogged or an extended stay in the dungeon, and hopefully, she’ll live to die another day.

Helios Rhadros stood at the heath, shoulders broad underneath his black shirt. She can see glimpses of scars, burns, and muscle from the skin he showed. His blouse is open in the front, and his muscular chest is dusted with dark hair. It trails down to a line that disappeared between the waist of his loose black trousers. His arms were crossed, forearms thick and veined, one hand idly flexing like it wanted to grab something—or choke.

Either way, his one unblinded eye looked at her with a grey coldness. First at her face, then at the curve of her clothed body.

And frowned.

“Did you read the note?”

She thought and then nodded. “Yes, I did—”

“I said, naked.”

She stutters her response. “E-Excuse me? You have to be joking—”

“Little Mouse, it wasn’t a suggestion. Inside.”

Enid’s brain short-circuited as she walked further inside and reluctantly shut the door behind her.

As she stepped inside, the door reminded her of the closing of a coffin lid.

The room was warm, unlike the drafty hallway. The large hearth glowed with flames, bathing the office in gold and shadow. She didn’t get a good look inside since she was so angry the last time, but the furniture was made of a dark wood, and many of the furnishings were made of velvet. The sedan was draped in silk, and the air smelled of bergamot—and him.

“Take it off.” 

She looked up at him, surprised. 

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she responded with “Take off…?”

“Everything.” His gaze raked over her. “I asked once already.”

Enid thought of running—again. Suddenly, the room felt like a humiliating dungeon. She had a feeling that as soon as she stripped, he’d pull the lever for a trap door under her. Then his pet snakes or whatever a duke known as The Serpent of Rhadros has as pets, and drops her in there as its food.

He didn’t urge or force her—he just stood near the fire, waiting.

She clumsily grasped the hem of her nightgown, then the tie that held it on her body. Slowly, she tugged the ribbon loose. When it wouldn’t budge, she pulled it over her head. She was shaking so badly that it got stuck.

“Sorry…just give me—”

She finally yanked it off, and she held her discarded night to her frame to hide her bare frame. Then she didn’t do anything.

There was silence between them.

She didn’t want to look up, only staring downward at her full, sagging breasts and a peek at her mound. 

Was she breathing? 

No. No, she was definitely going to die here. 

Naked, anxious, slightly damp from nerves. 

“Drop it.”

She did.

But, immediately covered her chest with her arms.

“Good, now look at me.”

His voice was low, commanding.

She looked at him. 

And his eyes were on her.

Not just looking, consuming.

He didn’t even blink. He looked at her, then stepped closer. She felt herself back away to the door.

“Now mine.”

“…Pardon?”

His voice dipped lower, and her hand rested above her head on the door. “Undress me.”