Looking back, there was really only one thing that defined Yona—she was an insatiable sex freak.
That was it. That was the whole story.
She fucked the young lord whenever they were alone. In the beginning, this only happened at night. She'd crawl into his bed and keep him awake until dawn, satisfying her bottomless perverted appetite. But as time went on, the nights stopped being enough for her.
Eventually, she convinced Lorel to promote her to his personal maid. Her official duty, as he put it, was to "tend to his needs." Nobody in the mansion understood what that actually meant. They all misread the situation completely.
After all, Yona had been with Lorel since he was a child. She was one of the maids who raised him. Some people might have even called her a mother figure. So naturally, everyone assumed he promoted her because he trusted her more than the others. They thought it was sweet, in a way.
They had no idea how wrong they were.
Whenever Moresa left the mansion, Yona and Lorel went at it. Morning, afternoon, evening, night—it didn't matter. Every position imaginable, using every part of her body she could offer. She threw herself at him so relentlessly that Lorel himself became addicted to it. She was abusing him, really, but he'd grown to need it.
The situations got more and more ridiculous. If Lorel sat down to eat, Yona would slip under the table and service him with her mouth. If he tried to read a book, she'd climb on top of him and ride him while he struggled to focus on the pages. Bath time was the worst. He'd spend hours in the bath because she'd join him every single time, and things would escalate from there.
The more I think about it now, the more disturbing it becomes. Why was this woman so unbelievably hypersexual? It reached a point where she stopped wearing undergarments entirely. That way, Lorel—who had become a complete sex addict by then—could take her whenever the urge struck him. And with her constantly around him, the urge always struck him.
"Would you be heading out today?" Moresa's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I had just finished my bath and was getting dressed. Her question made me think about something I'd been putting off. Lorel still had his Legion. Sure, they were small in number and honestly kind of incompetent, but they existed. If I remembered correctly, they were all staying at the Baliks right now—a separate mansion on the grounds where the maids, servants, and other non-security staff slept after finishing their duties for the day. The Baliks was massive, almost as large as the main house.
"Yes," I told her. "Gather them all. I want to speak with them."
She nodded and left to make the arrangements.
Lorel had been avoiding his Legion ever since their last defeat. That embarrassing loss was what got them all sent here to this temporary exile in the first place. I didn't fully understand why he'd been hiding from them—maybe shame, maybe guilt, maybe he just couldn't face them anymore. But I couldn't afford to keep avoiding them.
If I wanted to survive in this world long enough to figure anything out, I needed that Legion.
My memories told me exactly how weak Lorel was as a fighter. It wasn't even funny how pathetic his combat skills were. Without his Legion protecting him, I'd be completely vulnerable. And that was especially dangerous now, with the next Royal Bout coming up soon.
Things were about to change for Lorel. His story was finally taking a different turn.