Warning: Mature content
Lydia had no qualms about spending several mornings in a row taking horseback rides in the forest with Sidney Sherman. Thanks to the midnight balls that lasted until midnight, they could secretly meet without being seen, taking advantage of the solitude of the early hours of the morning.
During their horseback rides, she had learned many things about Sidney. His fondness for horses could be attributed to spending more time with grooms than with his constantly warring father at his father's horse farm. Military matters dominated their conversations after horses.
Lydia couldn't claim to be excited about the same things as him, but she had noticed that her time at the mansion passed quickly as she listened to him rather than talked during their horseback rides. So much so that the balls held in honor of Princess Mathilda would end in just two days.
This visit to the Reyes mansion hadn't gone as badly as she had anticipated. Since the princess had clearly shown that she didn't see her as a rival, the looks directed at her during meals and balls had decreased. Even Amelia said the rumors had disappeared.
She was happy she had accepted the invitation.
As she wrote a letter to inform her nanny of the latest developments in the reddish light of the newborn sun, Lydia's thoughts were consumed by these things. Although the thought of mentioning Sherman crossed her mind, it quickly faded. She first needed to be sure whether her meetings with Sidney would continue.
She could ask him about this during their morning ride.
Lydia had quickly finished her letter and left her room to have it delivered by the servant. Being used to handling her daily affairs, she didn't want to leave this task to Lizzy.
As she hurried through the interconnected sitting rooms, she was sure that no one else was present besides herself, but a muffled sound, like a moan, hit her ears, causing her to pause.
In the silence that enveloped the mansion, it wasn't hard to find the source of the sound. She couldn't resist taking a peek inside the gap the sound led her to, even though she knew it was wrong.
It only took her a second to realize how thoughtless she had been.
The morning sun struck directly onto the man settled in the armchair as if on a throne, with all its majesty. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, revealing his bronzed, muscular torso, which rose and fell with slow, heavy breaths, completely exposed.
Lydia had certainly seen naked men before, but this was unlike the limp, weak, or worn-out bodies she had encountered at the town doctor's. It reminded her of the superhumanly handsome demi-god heroes she had been fond of in mythological stories as a child.
Perhaps the bright sun was playing tricks on her senses.
Feeling her mouth dry, Lydia involuntarily swallowed and, despite knowing she shouldn't, she pushed the door slightly further open to get a better view.
The new sight she encountered completely stripped her of the excitement and admiration she had just felt, leaving her alone with guilt and shame.
She was just realizing that the man was not alone. The woman kneeling in front of him was so petite and quiet compared to him that the tension in her demeanor was palpable. Nevertheless, as Lydia watched, the woman's head bobbed up and down rapidly, trying to take the man's exposed cock into her mouth. The size of the cock seemed to strain and stretch the woman's small mouth excessively.
Lydia couldn't close her eyes even if she wanted to. She was well aware that in the illuminated salons of the society she belonged to, gentlemen wearing polite masks engaged in courteous conversations with women, while in the dark back rooms, they experienced the most crude and obscene scenes with the same women.
However, witnessing this behavior from this man felt like a sudden punch to her gut. She had become accustomed to seeing him in expensive suits and uniforms, with his attractive smile, but she had never imagined encountering him in such an out-of-control state.
Just then, as the man became increasingly distracted, his wandering gaze intersected with hers.
Lydia, despite the rising fear and excitement within her, had at least thought that the worst was over, that this scene would finally come to an end.
But she was wrong.
Damian neither ignored her nor made her presence known to the woman. His green eyes, narrowed with desire, sparkled with a lively gleam as a pleasure-filled moan escaped his lips. Lydia watched as Damian's hand forcefully plunged into the woman's hair without averting his gaze from her; simultaneously, she felt the disgust, anger, and inevitable desire towards this man she could never have intensify.
As the clasp of the woman's hairpiece slid off due to the rough movement, Lydia remembered where she had last seen her. The woman was no discreet noblewoman. She was the constant companion of the princess.
All the emotions stirred within her by witnessing this reality surged through her like an avalanche, and Lydia felt as if she couldn't breathe for a moment.
Yet, despite indulging his desires, Damian still found time to observe her, a pleased smile playing on his lips as he forcefully pressed the woman's head closer to him, making room for his cock. Even as he moaned and threw his head back, his green eyes never left Lydia's. Meanwhile, his hands were busy using the woman's mouth as he pleased, encountering no resistance from her.
Unbeknownst to her, the letter in Lydia's palm had shrunk so much between her fingers that its hardened edges were now digging into her hand. In her other hand, she held a whip borrowed to control the horse but never dared to use it on the animal, its harsh tip waiting.
At this moment, an irresistible urge to lash the whip across Damian's face surged within her. Was it because the rumors circulating about her were merely a veil to conceal the true betrayal, and she felt anger against that, or was it that she couldn't bear Damian's immoral, shameless, and devilish nature alone? Lydia didn't know.
The only thing Lydia knew for certain was that she was in a terrible situation, but there was something preventing her from leaving, and Damian was well aware of it. Even though with each push and pull he exerted, he behaved so harshly that it would suffocate the woman gasping in lust, she struggled to comply with him. Judging by Damian's increasingly irregular and shallow breaths, this wouldn't last long.
His green eyes were now locked onto Lydia's with even more audacity and directness than before. At this moment, betrayal, lies, and other shameless acts seemed only to fuel his pleasure. And even Lydia's watching gaze...
When Lydia noticed this, the joints of the fingers holding the whip had turned pure white. She felt tainted, just like them. Unable to bear it any longer, she did the first thing that came to mind and swung the whip forward.
The sound of the vase on the table near the door crashing to the ground and shattering into pieces was so oddly satisfying to her ears that all the painful feelings vanished in an instant.