“I told you to take the position of a mistress, not to bare yourself like this.”

The world of Natasha Ivanov, the most noble lady of the Duchy of Ivanov, came crashing down.

And from the rubble of her shattered existence, it wasn’t her savior who appeared.

No, it was the very person who despised her more than anyone else, the one who had wished for her ruin above all others—the harbinger of her downfall.

Truly, he had returned.

Alexei Petrov.

The Knulu-born s*ave who had been the most despised in all of the Duchy of Ivanov.

Yet, ironically, he was also the most celebrated—

a gladiator unmatched in skill and beauty, unrivaled in fame.

He had trampled upon the blood-stained golden throne and risen to become the king of a new era.

* * *

“Do you truly wish to live that much? Even though I, who took everything from you, must make you burn with hatred… enough to become the mistress of the one you despise.”

Natasha, trembling as she lowered her shoulders, suddenly lifted her head and spoke.

“…I do not despise you.”

“Lies. Deep down, you must be mocking me as lowly and vile…”

“No. There is no such thing as a lowly person in this world.”

Alexei shut his eyes tightly. Something welled up from deep within his chest, raw and uncontrollable.

“Sweet words can cover any lie, can’t they? If you truly do not despise me, if you do not see me as lowly, then surely you won’t reject my kiss.”

What lingered in her clear, noble eyes?

Resignation? Sadness? Or perhaps… disdain?

Unable to bear seeing it any longer, Alexei crushed his lips against hers, rough and unyielding.

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