Grant Me Your Grace

Clang—

The harsh irons of the gate echoed through the small space. Dahlia stifled a groan and gripped the grate behind her head harder.

The damp air of the underground chamber was cooling her body, and only her waist, held by a large hand, and her legs, which were grinding wetly together, were hot as if on fire.

“Hmph…!”

The thick pillar of flesh that stretched out from within the steel cage jabbed downward again without mercy. It was like a flash of lightning in a place where the only light was a single candle.

Dahlia’s exhausted hand was about to let go of the grate when she couldn’t hold on any longer.

“You can’t be exhausted already.”

Thud. From behind, Hissin pinned Dahlia’s hands together, and at the same time, hands that dug into her clothes squeezed her chest. A low, cracked voice drifted into her ear.

“I want you to raise your hips higher, so I can reach deeper.”

“Mmph!”

With no time to suppress the shame, Hissin tugged on her pelvis with a vicious yank. His long, red shaft, bulging through the bars of the prison, slid between Dahlia’s thighs once more.

As humiliating as it was to be sharing her body with Hissin through the bars, the pain that had been killing her was subsiding, and she couldn’t resist him.

His eyes flicked over the red spots all over her body. They had been as bright as blood droplets earlier, but they had faded.

Hissin leaned in and whispered in Dahlia’s ear.

“The red spots are fading. Your Highness.”

His voice sounded so calm and soft, unlike Dahlia’s sweet sobs. It was gentle, even affectionate, an improbable tone for an imperial princess in prison.

But Dahlia didn’t recognize the dark desire in it, and the eyes of a man who must hold a light many times darker than that.

At the thought of those eyes, she felt a perverse sense of pleasure and disgust at the same time. Unconsciously, her insides clenched hard.

The man’s low chuckle dampened my ears.

“There’s no need to rush things.”

“Hissin, please stop…”

“You don’t want to?”

“That, huh, but no more… ahhhh!”

At that moment, Hissin’s member plunged all the way into her womb, and the dull pleasure that coursed through her caused Dahlia to lose her grip on the pole. She would have fallen forward if Hissin hadn’t wrapped his arms tightly around her waist from behind.

“Grant me grace, Your Grace.”

Hissin pulled Dahlia’s hand back and kissed the back of her hand. It was an incredibly gentle kiss, in contrast to the destructive bucking of her hips.

It was the kind of greeting one might expect from a statue of a Nuit goddess. Without hesitation, Hissin asked grace from her, the exiled princess.

However, Dahlia didn’t bite down on the hand. No, it was more like she couldn’t even think about doing it.

Perhaps it was because her mind was so focused on Hissin.

“Only in the filthiest, ugliest places can you find grace from the Princess.”

Dahlia bit her lower lip at the mocking words.

“Are you making a fool of me?”

“Don’t you like being filthy and ugly?”

A bitter mockery crept into Hissin’s throaty voice.

“What can I do, a man who wants to embrace you is just such a man.”

“Ha, ugh, hmm…!”

Clutching her pelvis, Hissin suddenly began to speed up.

Her round buttocks were crushed red against the cloth-clad grate, and the damp cell echoed giddily with a mixture of rattling slaps and sobbing moans.

Dahlia felt the juncture so hot she thought her whole body would melt. 

At the same time, the tearing pains were fading faster than ever. The curse-like marks that the divine blood had carved into her body.

“Ah, Hissin…! Argh!”

Dahlia clutched at Hissin’s arm with a feeble hand. If she didn’t, she felt like she would fall to her death.

The goddess Nuit must be furious with this immoral affair, and she would tear apart her soul and cast it into the fires of hell.

‘But… I do not wish to endure the pain alone any longer.’

Only the gods could ease this pain. So Dahlia was unable to stop her promiscuity.

Even if it was a sin that would make her forsaken by the gods.

“Ha, ah, argh…! Ugh!”

Something hot gushed out from between her legs.

Dahlia squeezed her eyes shut tightly, shuddering with pleasure. 

The tears that rolled down her cheeks soaked the floor of the dungeon, dripping onto the white, shattered mess of her peak.

The red spots that remained had also disappeared.

“Hmph…”

Hissin slowly slid out of Dahlia. His knees buckled, and he held Dahlia steady as he turned her body to face him.

In the darkness, his eyes glowed deep crimson.

She remembered those beautiful eyes, burning with a brilliant flame when they caught the light. 

With those eyes, he had blessed countless people and smiled as he was loved by all.

‘Who would have thought that he would be imprisoned in a dungeon and covet me so voraciously.’ thought Dahlia.

“In the end… Goddess Nuit will punish us both.”

Dahlia said, sobs still lingering in her voice. His lips pressed to her collarbone, and Hissin chuckled softly.

He gazed at her with loving care, as if gazing upon the noblest thing in the world.

“Then I will kill even the gods and take you.”

“The gods…!”

“You need me more than the god whose cursed blood you have been led to believe in, and who can quell that curse.”

“I cannot stand it when you insult the Nuit goddess.”

“And you’re okay with the royals and nobles mistreating you?”

Dahlia was speechless.

What does this man know, everything I know, or everything that I don’t yet know?

This man was no longer a gift from the gods, no longer anything. 

Even in the confines of a prison cell, the man’s intimidating presence left her speechless.

Hissin cupped her cheek as he watched her eyes quiver.

“What is the will of the gods and what is the devil’s ploy?”

Hissin’s red lips, wet with saliva, curled up finely.

“In the end, to each according to their own will, Your Grace.”

Not as the gods will.

Hissin lowered his head and swallowed Dahlia’s lips. He parted the struggling woman’s lips and plunged his tongue deep inside, swallowing every last handful of her breath.

She could smell the man’s hot breath and the prison bars’ bitter iron odor. Feverish once more, Dahlia had no choice but to surrender herself to him.

The unforgivable sin was bathing her in ecstasy.

✨

Three months ago, in the 27th year of Bahran Otthar.

The palace has been in an uproar since dawn.

Today was New Year’s Day, Maksru, the day the Bahran nation sacrificed once a year to the sky goddess and lord of the desert.

Add to that the crowning of the empire’s one and only princess, Bahran Dahlia, and it was no wonder that the palace was in such a state of turmoil.

But it wasn’t the Maksru or the coming-of-age ceremony that was on the maids’ lips more often this day.

“Will there really be a gift from the gods today, as prophesied?”

“It is said that Maksru, the day of the Princess’s coming-of-age, is a day of great oracle, so if the prophecy is true, the gift of the gods will appear today.”

“You don’t think it will pass unnoticed, do you?”

“Wouldn’t the High Priest recognize it? All the prophecies of the Bahranian priests are announced through him.”

“You never know where it might appear from.”

The maids of honor at the imperial palace chattered with curiosity.

“What are you all doing without hastening?”

“Ho, Priest Hovan!”

The maids quickly shut their mouths and tensed at the sight of the temple’s young priest, Hovan.

With his copper-colored skin and amber eyes, thin eyelids, and seductively raised brows, he was an extremely attractive priest who possessed certain qualities.

But in addition to his strangely eye-catching fair face, he was taller than most men and had a body as muscular as a paladin’s. His mere presence dominated the room.

With a silent gesture to the maids, Hovan turned his gaze toward the chamber, and Bertha, one of the Princess’s attendant maids, spoke from within.

“Your Grace, the Priest Hovan is here.”

Then the heavy door opened, and the Princess, Bahran Dahlia, appeared.

Her hair glistened like a lustrous black silk tapestry, her skin as smooth as porcelain, her hazel eyes like beads, and her harmonious features.

Dressed in a dazzling white sheath dress and a headpiece adorned with diamonds, Dahlia exuded a mystical allure, as if she were the reincarnation of a goddess.

“You look beautiful, Your Grace.”

Dahlia smiled awkwardly, trying to swallow her nervousness at Hovan’s compliment.

“Thank you, Priest Hovan. I was worried it might be too much…”

“What are you worried about, Your Highness is always perfect.”

At that, Dahlia’s expression relaxed a little. The corners of her lips curled into a smile, like a trembling water lily on the shore of a clear lake.

As if looking at his younger sibling, Hovan smiled wistfully, then spoke earnestly.

“Well, then, it’s time to go.”

Hovan led the way. Dahlia swallowed dryly and nodded.

But their destination was not beyond the palace gates. Rather, they went deeper into the palace, and opened a tightly closed door at the end of a hallway.

The room was narrow and empty, and as Dahlia gazed at the overstuffed chair in the center of the room, she could see a glimmer of fear in his eyes and a dark resignation that washed over him.

Leading Dahlia inside, Hovan glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

The two disappeared behind the firmly closed door.