The First Duty of a Crowned Beast

There was no other choice but to obey what this man wanted.

With her heart heavy over the trials yet to come, Chloe picked up the tiara at her feet and set it back upon her head.

The unsecured jewels kept sliding from her crown.

“I will fulfill the duties of Imperatris Secunda as commanded.”

“Do you know what your first duty is?”

“To… to serve Your Majesty.”

He let out a short, resonant chuckle.

This time, there was feeling in it.

“All of you, withdraw. Far.”

Under Hector’s fierce gaze, the library emptied like a receding tide.

The door shut firmly once more, and the sound of footsteps faded into silence.

His long shadow crossed the pool of blood as he approached.

Though the distance closed calmly, she felt like prey driven into a corner.

The moment she spoke of serving him, he dismissed everyone and sealed the room.

It meant only one thing.

Her eyes darted, unsettled.

Was he truly going to do it here?

In the Crown Prince’s library?

The sheer immorality of it made her dizzy.

If he had said to go to his bedchamber, she would have followed.

But this—this was different.

Even if the attendants had retreated, everyone would know what transpired in a locked room at midday.

It was broad daylight.

A time for state affairs and study.

Yet here she stood—

the Emperor’s consort, spreading her legs wherever he demanded.

“Please… not here.”

Her plea only provoked him.

His hand seized her roughly.

“Why? Will you undress yourself?”

He did not grant her the chance.

Noticing her hesitation, his grip grew harsher.

Like a toy, he lifted her and pressed her against the table.

Forced to sit at its edge, she nearly wept.

In her previous life, she had not felt shame in debauchery.

But now—

defiling the Crown Prince’s library filled her with despair.

“Please… just not here…”

Her clasped hands only fueled him further.

He forced her legs apart and dragged her closer.

Their bodies collided.

The pressure stole a breath from her lungs.

A brutal kiss crushed her mouth, stealing air.

His fingers seized her throat, stretching her neck as she gasped.

When her voluminous skirts were lifted, the pannier beneath was revealed like armor.

The corset and layers of undergarments slowed him.

He tore at them impatiently.

“What is this absurd clothing?”

The rest he cut away with a dagger.

At least her skin escaped the blade.

Soon she was laid bare.

Her knees parted, her body exposed.

He pressed against her, undoing his buckle.

The size that met her was staggering.

Her body reacted instinctively.

Moisture slicked her skin and the table beneath.

Heat swelled within her as he forced himself inside.

It was the same body that had filled her until dawn.

She had spent the day haunted by phantom pain, by the memory of him still lodged inside her.

Her body recognized him.

Despite her will, it yielded.

“Ah… ngh… ha…”

She wanted to push him away.

She could not.

She had sworn to fulfill her duty.

Each thrust felt as though it would tear her apart.

Her body jolted with every impact.

She clung to the table for balance, lifted helplessly by the force of him.

Her spine felt as though it would shatter.

He bit her cheek like a beast tasting prey.

“Yes. Be adorable like this.”

His hand engulfed her breast.

His grip was large enough to encompass it fully.

Finger marks bloomed over already bruised skin.

Gradually, she drifted from reality.

Pain blurred into something else—

a trembling heat she refused to acknowledge.

Even as she despised it, her body responded.

And then Severian’s words echoed in her mind.

The second Empress had been poisoned.

Without reason.

Her body burned, yet her heart cooled.

Had she not been the same in her previous life?

Not killed for fault—

but simply because he desired her gone.

A victim of a capricious Emperor.

<Chapter 3. The Stallion and the Donkey>

For a time, she lost track of the days.

Night and day blurred together.

She would wake past noon after being ravaged, only to be taken again.

Encounters begun in daylight stretched into night.

Sometimes she drifted to sleep mid-embrace.

Time outside ceased to matter.

Hector’s sudden surges of desire became the axis of her world.

“I cannot believe I tolerate a donkey as stubborn as you.”

He often brought up her defiance.

He marveled at his own restraint in not punishing her further.

If punishment meant nothing more than bedding her, then it was no punishment at all.

She never thanked him.

He had not forgiven her.

He had merely postponed retribution.

If he grew bored, he would collect it all at once.

His appetite was animalistic.

Like a prized stallion dosed and sent to breed.

In truth, he was precisely that—

the Montparnasse imperial stud.

Only a few knew Severian’s blood was not imperial.

Yet the court clamored for more heirs.

The Privy Council and imperial kin urged Hector to take a third Empress.

Because of this, Chloe drew hostile glances.

Many resented her presence.

‘I do not want this either.’

She could confide in no one.

Once, she had hinted at remarriage to Hector.

He had punished her brutally for it.

To ask to resign her role might cost her life.

Hector was not diligent in governance.

He handled only what was necessary.

The rest of his time he spent training or hunting.

Chloe was his newest diversion.

Desire awakened late in him, and he indulged it fully.

He poured his abundant time into her.

It was exhausting.

He demanded she perform the duties of a consort, yet barely allowed her to leave his bedchamber.

One day, when he attended a council meeting, she found rare freedom.

Her legs trembled like those of a newborn fawn as she dressed.

Her crown was ornate, her undergarments simplified—

per imperial instruction.

She strolled the main garden briefly, then dismissed her attendants.

Claiming she wished to reflect alone.

Once alone, Chloe gathered her skirts and quickened her pace.

There was somewhere she needed to go.

Without Hector knowing.