"Aramus laughed cruelly at Ceasaria, holding his stomach. All she would ever be was replaceable." — Lovable Villainess, Chapter Seventy Four.
...
I was uncomfortably comfortable as they scrubbed the dirt and grime from my body. It had been the first time that I had bathed, I was startingly uncomfortable with the way the maids brushed my body. Their hands were soft and tender upon the flesh that had become so bruised that I mistook it for shadows. I hadn't realized that my abuse was so consistent that I hadn't given time to heal. My wounds would remain; the only ubiquitous thing in my life.
I didn't speak much, only nodding as the maids asked me useless questions about the water, the scent, and their touch.
