After returning to Seagate City, Margaret refused the service of the maids and locked herself in the washroom, repeatedly cleaning her body.
She didn't bother to listen to how Douglas explained his survival to the cavalry outside. Anyway, he was always clever and composed, and he would find a suitable reason.
Eastern Holy Land and Ceragon had a long-standing rivalry, and the heirs of the two nations considered each other mortal enemies. Compared to Douglas, Dermat had a more assertive personality and liked to catch others off guard. Just like this surprise attack, no one expected Dermat to lead a formidable force, infiltrating from the central city all the way to the border, catching Douglas off guard.
This plan was dangerous, and with a little carelessness, Dermat's surprise attack could have resulted in casualties.
Margaret stood under the misty shower, vigorously wiping her face.
Ceragon's heir was an aggressively madman. He didn't bring many people with him, relying entirely on the advantage of the terrain to manipulate Seagate City's cavalry. While negotiating with Douglas in the interrogation room, and violating her in the process, the cavalry might have been lurking on the ground not far away.
Dermat couldn't kill Douglas, or he would have trouble retreating smoothly.
But he also failed to seize Frostbite Mountain and Seagate City. Therefore, he used the method of harming her to insult Douglas's pride. Douglas wouldn't aggressively pursue him because everything that happened in the interrogation room became the basis for their trade and compromise.
No one suffered significant losses, except Margaret.
She twisted the faucet handle. The golden switch was shaped like a daisy, and it felt scalding and rough to the touch. The palm of Margaret's hand was marked with faint red imprints from the pressure, but the marks were like the warmth on her hand, fading quickly.
She walked barefoot to the dressing room outside and examined herself in the mirror.
The reflection in the mirror revealed a young woman, appearing so youthful that a touch of innocence graced her features. Her long hair, soaked like seaweed, cascaded down to her waist, and glistening droplets slid down her chin, collecting in the hollow of her collarbone or trickling along her breasts to their peaks, adorning the cherry-red flesh.
This was an elegantly slender figure, with a small waist, long legs, petite breasts, and skin radiating a subtle, ethereal whiteness. Like a nymph lying on satin beside a mountain spring, she exuded an otherworldly charm.
In short, one wouldn't immediately associate this image with sensuality.
However, it was precisely this seemingly pure body that Dermat brutally pressed to the ground, cradling it in his arms, manipulating it for an unknown duration. Her nipples were still swollen and oozing blood, her waist and abdomen bore the bruises of purple finger marks. Elbows and knees fared even worse, their skin thoroughly scraped, the damaged areas soaked in hot water turned pallid, with streaks of blood.
Margaret pressed her petal-like red lips together.
She gazed at herself for a long time.
"Margaret White."
She softly recited a passage, "Miss of the White family, daughter of Duke Russell, the first prince's fiancée. Once violated by Dermat, she later married Douglas as she wished. After Douglas became the Emperor of Eastern Holy Land, she smoothly ascended to become the empress, but she was shunned, never receiving a moment of tenderness."
"Half a year later, the White family was destroyed, and Empress Margaret died by poison."
These were the words that appeared before her eyes while she was washing just now.
Margaret lowered her eyelashes, wanting to laugh but unable to.
Her mind was filled with heavy and unfamiliar information, pressing on her nerves, making her chest feel congested, and her breathing difficult.
Trying to organize all of this was a massive and intricate task. Margaret temporarily lacked the ability to do so, only able to digest it bit by bit and understand with the occasional appearance of these words.
It seemed like she was living her life guided by a book.
The title of this book was "The Cinderella of Favors." It told the story of a noble illegitimate daughter, Charlotte, who endured days of poverty, was suddenly brought back home, entered the Gerta Magic Academy, and, relying on her beautiful qualities and indomitable perseverance, gradually won the favor of many. At the same time, Charlotte entered the social circle of the upper-class nobility, entangling herself in complex emotional relationships with various outstanding men.
In summary, it was a love story.
While attending the academy, Charlotte found herself liked by a senior, pursued by the second prince; at dance parties, she could captivate everyone, drawing the attention of the first prince. Whether strolling on the streets or embarking on adventurous tasks, she would encounter the injured Dermat, initiating a forced love affair.
Margaret silently tallied up the numerous men in Charlotte's love life, and they probably exceeded the count of two hands.
—And then, unbelievably, none of them was the male lead.
Yes, including Margaret's fiancé, all these characters were dubbed as supporting males. The male lead only appeared much later in the story, residing in a faraway ocean as the Elf Supreme King.
"What the hell is this?"
For the first time in her life, Margaret cursed. As the words left her lips, it felt as if the mental shackles that had burdened her for so long vanished.
All notions of being a perfect heiress, maintaining elegance and poise, and adhering to noble virtues... all lost their meaning. She gazed at her disheveled self, her eyes reddened, gradually forming a curve. Lips parted, she uttered a hoarse but resolute statement.
"To hell with Douglas."
There should be another update tonight.
Douglas was heading toward the crematorium, living in the crematorium, and might not come back in the end.
Anyway, let's see how the plot unfolds; no need to rush now.