Chapter 5: As Cunning as I Am

This was not Anselm's first encounter with Sitana.

　　

Upon arriving at this temporary manor and stepping into the bedroom, he saw the Rancemalos sisters, clad in semi-transparent gowns, helplessly lied on the bed.

　　

As a 'connoisseur', Earl Scarletfrost was indeed thoughtful; he even placed an image projection crystal on the coffee table, recording the entire process of the Rancemalos sisters being packaged and transported, with their outfits changed by maids, without any man touching them, a testament to his meticulous efforts.

　　

However, Anselm did not appreciate the Earl's kindness. Although upon seeing Sitana, he did briefly consider using 'pink' magic and 'tentacle' magic to directly crush and destroy her personality, but the idea quickly passed.

　　

Because this notion clashed with Anselm's principles and aesthetic sensibilities, compelling him to engage in deep self-scrutiny and introspection following the emergence of such thoughts.

　　

The conclusion he reached was—the supreme power of fate that engendered their mutual repulsion, the frenzied surge of the dark desire in that moment, rather than originating from his genuine intentions, seemed more akin to a 'divine' inspiration.

　　

A kind of... non-compulsory compulsory correction. Anselm had long understood this.

　　

If Anselm had succumbed to that thought, something extremely dangerous would inevitably happen later.

　　

Therefore, he would not do anything excessive to Sitana—at least not until she was completely submissive.

　　

"Miss Malena and Miss Sitana... is that correct?"

　　

Sitting on the sofa with his fingers interlaced on his raised leg, Anselm looked at the two vulnerable and helpless girls with a gentle and polite gaze.

　　

"Did you rest well?"

　　

Malena, shielded by Sitana, softly said, "Thank you for your mercy, Lord Hydra, we—"

　　

"Not at all!"

　　

Sitana interrupted Malena, her dark red eyes beneath her messy bangs showing a ferocity that belied her age and appearance: "Who the hell enjoys being imprisoned!"

　　

Savile, standing aside with his eyes lowered, slightly frowned but remained silent, while Malena, panicked, tugged at Sitana's sleeve, sneaking glances at Anselm but too timid to say much.

　　

"Imprisonment..." Anselm mused over the provocative word and couldn't resist a chuckle, "Is that what you believe this to be, Miss Sitana?"　　

"Isn't it?!"

　　

Sitana widened her eyes, to be honest, she looked quite adorable at that moment, but coupled with her arrogant and brainless expression and tone, she was completely unlikable.

　　

As if completely unaware of her situation, the foolish girl shouted loudly: "YOU RESTRICT OUR MOVEMENT, CUT US OFF FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD, KEEP US LOCKED IN A ROOM! ISN'T THIS IMPRISONMENT? IS THIS SOME KIND OF PRANK TO YOU? ARE YOU STILL AT THE AGE WHERE YOU ENJOY PRANKS, YOUNG MASTER?"

—While shouting so loudly, our future hero didn't seem to consider what she might have experienced if she hadn't been sent to Anselm, but to that infamous Earl Scarletfrost.

　　

"…Young Master," Savile, with his head slightly lowered, couldn't help but speak up.

　　

Anselm, rubbing his temples, sighed and waved his hand.

　　

"Slap her."

　　

SMACK—!

　　

The crisp and loud sound echoed in the living room.

　　

Sitana stood there dumbfounded, the fiery pain on her face making her realize what had happened two seconds later.

　　

Although no one in the living room had moved, the red mark on her snow-white cheek spoke volumes.

　　

The resentment boiling in her heart was ignited by fury, and she glared at Anselm like a mad wolf, the pitiful and foolish young beast roaring: "YOU REALLY—"

　　

"Continue." Anselm, with one hand propping up his cheek, drooped his eyelids.

SMACK—!

　　

"YOU!"

　　

SMACK—!

　　

"…"

　　

SMACK—!

　　

Until Sitana's cheeks were swollen high, until she dared not glare at him with that resentful gaze, the young nobleman on the sofa raised his hand to signal his butler to stop.

　　

"Miss Sitana."

　　

At this moment, Malena had stepped in front of Sitana, although she had no courage to plead with Anselm to stop, her instinct still made her do this meaningless thing.

　　

Anselm, murmuring Sitana's name, stood up and walked to the sisters, easily pushing aside Malena's trembling and powerless arm.

　　

He faced the girl's eyes brimming with tears, probably few in the world could resist Malena's pleading gaze at this moment, even the fiercest noble might spare Sitana just this once.

　　

But Anselm was an exception.

　　

It wasn't that Malena couldn't move him, but that he wasn't angry at all.

　　

Having read the memory books for over a decade, he had no sense of identification with most noble norms, and Sitana's "offense" was no different to him than the barking of a street dog—even for the current imperial nobles, it wouldn't be strange to execute Sitana on the spot.

　　

And the reason he still did this was, of course, because punishing Sitana... was absolutely necessary in Anselm's rational planning.

　　

"Miss Sitana." Anselm said Sitana's name again, easily pushing aside Malena, he lifted Sitana's chin and looked down with interest at her swollen face, which no longer showed any beauty.

　　

And at this moment, Sitana averted her gaze, not meeting Anselm's eyes.

　　

"You say I've imprisoned you, hmm... imprisonment."

　　

Anselm smiled, if it were in a different context, Malena might have been mesmerized by his smile, but the puny girl was now only praying, praying that Lord Hydra was truly as merciful as recent rumors suggested.

　　

"But what have I provided you in this so-called imprisonment? I've offered you a room perfumed with incense, two cozy beds, plentiful clean water, sumptuous and delicious meals, maids to assist with your baths, and even two sets of new attire, not extravagant, but I trust I've shown you the respect you merit."

Anselm compassionately stroked Sitana's swollen cheeks, and when he heard the girl's gasp of pain, a sadistic pleasure surged in his heart, which he immediately suppressed with extreme vigilance.

　　

After a second of adjustment, he whispered again: "So, what then? What have I done during this imprisonment?"

　　

"Did I spy on your sleep, or eavesdrop on your private conversations? Did I commit any improper acts, or any acts of sacrilege?"

　　

The handsome young nobleman withdrew his hand and sighed sadly:

　　

"I thought you would view it as a respite."

　　

"Why, Miss Sitana, what makes you so disrespectful to me?"

　　

"Lord Hy... Hydra."

　　

Malena mustered all her courage, touching Anselm's sleeve with trembling fingertips: "Sita's just... really hot-headed and sensitive, we don't mean any disrespect, I really... I really appreciate you! Thank you for your protection!"

　　

Malena wasn't lying, compared to her sister who was destined to become a hero but had a significant personality flaw before achieving that title, in the trajectory seen by Anselm, she was a woman so perfect that she seemed somewhat unreal.

　　

Anselm held Malena's fingers, just the fingers, just the first knuckle, without taking any further liberties.

　　

In that instant, Malena felt an indescribable eerie chill, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear and panic, replaced by the warmth transmitted from her fingertips, a warmth she had never experienced before.

　　

"I know, Miss Malena." Anselm first smiled at her, then looked back at Sitana:

　　

"But you cannot speak on behalf of Sitana."

　　

Anselm's words made Malena see a glimmer of hope in the endless darkness, almost bringing her to tears, and the girl immediately grasped her sister's hand, exclaiming with a trembling voice filled with surprise: "Sita, Sita, quickly apologize to Lord Hydra!"

　　

"…"

　　

Sitana Rancemalos did not speak, and Anselm raised an eyebrow slightly, because he felt the aura emanating from the girl in front of him—a savage and bloodthirsty aura.

　　

"Sita… Sita?" Seeing Sitana silent, Malena's heart immediately tightened, she bit her lip, pleading in a voice so humble it was almost begging on her knees, "Please… quickly apologize to Lord Hydra… Sita…"

　　

Anselm showed no impatience, only his hand holding Malena's fingers had quietly covered most of her palm.

　　

"…I'm sorry."

　　

After an unknown amount of time, Anselm heard the hoarse voice of a cub from her throat.

　　

"Lord, Lord Hydra, I… my, ugh… rudeness, I apologize to you… ugh…"

　　

The girl, who hadn't shed a tear even when her cheeks were swollen from slaps, was now sobbing uncontrollably.

　　

Anselm responded gently: "Then, I accept your apology. Savile, please have a maid fetch some ointment."

Upon hearing Anselm's words, Malena's legs gave out, and she nearly collapsed to the ground, but Anselm, who had already taken her entire hand, easily pulled her up.

　　

"Am I truly that intimidating, Miss Malena?" The handsome golden-haired young man tilted his head with a smile.

　　

Malena, gazing into those sea-blue eyes, felt her heart rate accelerate uncontrollably, and she felt her limbs grow weak again... she didn't know if it was growing weak or if they were becoming lighter.

　　

Then she realized that her hand had been held by Anselm for quite some time.

　　

"No, no... it's not that."

　　

The pitiful girl with snow-white hair, flustered, pulled her hand back and turned her head involuntarily, whispering softly: "Lord Hydra is... a very gentle person."

　　

She slightly tucked her neck, not letting anyone see her reddened earlobes and cheeks.

　　

And all of this, while still among the self-loathing, the regret over her impulsiveness, and the hatred towards Anselm, Miss Sitana, remained unaware of.

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