On the following morning, Francesca Prelati was introduced to what life as royalty truly meant. The food sent by King Uther was no longer the hard, stale bread she had grown accustomed to, and the drink was no longer water drawn from the murky, convoluted rivers.
Instead, a luxurious set of finely prepared meals was presented before her, accompanied by rich red wine served on the goblet.
Driven by impulsiveness and the gnawing hunger that had plagued her for months, she devoured everything in front of her without a second thought. It wasn't until afterward, when she saw the empty platters and felt the weight of indulgence, that regret washed over her.
She realized all too well that the wicked king's sudden display of generosity was not without its price.
It seemed odd—almost suspicious—that Uther would send such luxurious offerings after having mercilessly tortured her for her and church supposed disrespect towards him. She knew how vindictive this man could be.
For all his reputation of generosity, which was true to the point that he didn't pocket a single coin from his conquests and plunder, sharing the wealth instead with his people, forgiveness was not one of his virtues. Especially for those who had wronged him. Between generosity and vindictiveness, it was his vindictiveness that often triumphed and dominated his character. This thought made Francesca extremely wary of what his true intentions might be, particularly after such a grand gesture of supposed kindness.
Her mind darkened as memories resurfaced of the night before, when King Uther had forced himself upon her, making her perform degrading acts, compelling her to drink his essence as if she were nothing more than a plaything.
It became all too clear to her that his recent show of generosity had nothing to do with kindness or goodwill.
He wanted her to submit to his will, to become subservient
She trembled at the thought of refusing him in the future, fearing that any disobedience—such as rejecting the demand to perform oral sex or whatever else his whims might dictate—would lead to her experiencing the brutal reality of what it truly meant to fall from riches to poverty.
The thought chilled her to the core. While it was relatively easy for the poor to adjust to wealth, the reverse was a cruel and harrowing experience.
Those who had lived in luxury, bathed in respect, and never known hunger would struggle immensely with the shock of suddenly being cast down to the bottom of the social chain, mocked, ridiculed, and barely able to afford a decent meal.
It wasn't hard to imagine how such a fall could drive anyone to madness, even to the point of contemplating suicide.
Francesca feared that this was Uther's cruel way of breaking her spirit, of making her bend to his will. Had she known this beforehand, she would have never set foot in this wretched, broken kingdom.
Her ambition to build a church here and learn from the great Sage Merlin had been thwarted.
Instead of achieving her goals, she had attracted the unwanted attention of a perverted and power-hungry king, a man who was willing to exploit her in any way possible to further his own ambitions.
With a tired, resigned sigh, Francesca sank deeper into her thoughts, weighed down by the heavy realization of what her future might hold in King Uther's clutches.
Dwelling too deeply in her thoughts and regrets caused her to ignore the obvious sound of footsteps approaching from outside the door. It wasn't until someone opened it that she finally snapped back to reality. When she saw who it was, she hastily covered her body with her hands, her posture tense and vigilant, and cursed under her breath.
"What do you want, King Uther?"
Her guarded stance and the way she shielded herself only earned a humorless chuckle from the king.
"I want nothing from you, nun—at least not right now," he replied coldly. "By the way, how was it? Did you enjoy the meal I sent you earlier?"
"What is it that you really want?" Francesca Prelati asked bluntly, her patience fraying. She was in no mood for the king's games and wanted nothing more than to end this encounter quickly.
"You've earned it. Last night was quite something. It seems you're better at being a whore than a nun," Uther said, his voice dripping with condescending praise.
Hearing the king's words, Francesca's face flushed beet-red with fury and shame. His so-called praise only served to heighten her sense of humiliation. For a nun like her, who had guarded her chastity in devotion to God, being forced into such a degrading act was an unspeakable violation.
"You... you... shameless beast! Even animals show more decency than you!" she spat angrily, her voice trembling with rage.
"Curse me all you want, nun," Uther replied with a shrug, unfazed by her outburst. "At least I'm not a hypocrite like you and your kind. How many innocent men and women have been dragged to the cross and executed by the Church, just because they dared to threaten its interests and rules?"
His words stung, but he didn't care. "Compared to those hiding behind their gods while committing vile acts, I'm better. I hide behind nothing and no one. I know what I am—I'm a sinner, and I fully acknowledge that. So, tell me, is there anything else you'd like to curse me with?"
Francesca was left speechless by the shamelessness of the man before her. She knew full well the type of person he was—someone who would never lose a night's sleep, no matter how atrocious his actions. Not because he was inherently evil, but because he knew there were those far worse than him, hiding behind a façade of kindness and civilization.
He had seen too much, lived through too much, and no longer cared about anyone or anything.
It was clear to her now: this man had been broken long ago, and paradoxically, that made him unbreakable. You can't break something that's already shattered. No matter how vicious her curses or how harsh her condemnations, he would give her no reaction.
And yet, it puzzled her. If he didn't care, why had he been so offended by the Church's disrespect in the first place?
Trying to figure out his motives, his thoughts, and the reasoning behind his actions was a challenge that exhausted her.
With a heavy sigh, she realized she was too weary to continue cursing him.
"Tell me what you wanted, King Uther, let's end this conversation, the sooner, the better."
"I guess I will graciously tell you what I wanted then." He whispered.
So, what exactly does King Uther want?
Find out in the next episode of Dragon Ball!