Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 227: The Journey: Sin of Sodom

Nympha made an excuse to leave. Lara’s gaze followed her. She was deep in thought.

Just outside, opposite the inn, beyond the flickering perimeter’s torches, the woman in red entered a dimly lit house. The servant thrown out earlier was inside, kneeling on the cold floor.

Nympha ascended the wooden stairs and entered through an ornate door. Inside, a naked man sprawled on the bed. His hands and feet were bound and tied to the bedposts by ropes. He was gagged and blindfolded.

Another man of medium build was lazily putting on his trousers before he moved toward the door, where Nympha was still standing. He lifted her chin so she could stare into his coldly glinting eyes. "Be sure to entertain him well. He should not have any doubts."

Nympha felt her chin would break if he applied more pressure. She nodded. "Yes, I will, master." Deep inside, her stomach knotted. It took her a lot of willpower to keep herself from vomiting.

"Did you bring a new one? I am still in the mood." The man said his voice was still hoarse.

Nympha lowered her head to hide the disgust in her eyes.

"Master, those are soldiers of Northem." She said in a soft voice.

"That’s even better. They should be strong. Did you manage to lure one?" He said in an excited voice.

"They are escorting a prince of Northem." Nympha added firmly.

The man stilled. He has a prince as a guest? He should have come last night to entertain the man if he knew.

The man in bed groaned. The drug was losing its effects.

"Go now and make him happy. I’ll watch. Make sure you give me a good show," he urged, his voice low and hoarse, as he sat in a chair in the shadows.

Nympha clenched her fist as she approached the bed, took off her dress, and slipped in beside the man. He was a spirited young man who wanted to travel the world. This was the first time his father had allowed him to travel alone with just two servants.

How unlucky he was to fall into the hands of Thamor. Never mind, she will make it up to him.

She removed his gag, the blindfold, and freed his hands and feet.

The man who was still groggy opened his eyes. He felt that he was run over by a truck, but when his eyes landed on a pair of beautiful black eyes that looked alluring in the flickering candlelight, he forgot about his pain.

The woman was very gentle as she caressed his face, as if he was her most precious possession. Then she started to move, bold and daring.

Outside, a cloaked figure leaped from the window, moved silently through the tall grass, and headed back to the inn.

Inside one of the rooms, Prince Alaric sat alone on a chair. Maps and letters cluttered the table before him. His face was drawn with exhaustion, but his mind burned hot with calculation.

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," he said without looking up.

Aramis stepped in, face grim. "Your Highness, a guard reported movement on the western perimeter. It’s too quiet for bandits. It might be a scout."

Alaric looked up, eyes sharp. "Is he my brother’s man?"

"Possibly."

The prince stood and walked to the window, staring into the dark. He caught a movement and paused. The shadow climbed into the window of Lara’s room. His face tensed, but then he recognized the silhouette. ’What is she doing sneaking out in the dead of the night?’

"Double the night watch. Tell them that if anything moves where it shouldn’t — we don’t ask questions."

Aramis gave a short bow. "Yes, Your Highness."

When the door closed behind him, Alaric returned to the table and reached for a sealed envelope marked with Reuben’s crest.

He broke the seal and scanned the contents. His brow furrowed.

"He’s more cunning than I thought," Alaric muttered, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Good."

Then his eyes drifted to the wall that separated her room from his. Where did she go? Why return so late?

The morning came quickly.

Before the sun could lift the mist from the fields, Alaric’s soldiers were already rousing the caravan. Boots stomped, commands barked, and fires were stamped out in haste. Half-awake and clutching a cup of coffee, the innkeeper barely managed a nod as the party mounted their carriages.

The Norse siblings were among the first to be ready, but Lara was missing. Although she had risen early, she lingered in the dining hall as if waiting for someone or something.

Then a young man strode inside. Beside him, Nympha, who was properly dressed, walked gracefully. Following behind was a man of medium build who headed to a corner table and occupied it as if it was reserved for him.

It was indeed reserved for him. A waiter came and served him breakfast. Lara heard the water call him Master Thamor.

Nympha settled in front of Thamor, looking obedient, so different from the alluring woman of last night.

"Master, you finally returned." A male servant suddenly appeared, guiding the man to a table beside Lara.

The young merchant sat but winced. He stood and was about to leave the dining hall when the other servant came and offered him a steaming brew of herbal infusion.

"Master, drink this. This is a pain reliever and good for the stomach. I bought this from a physician."

The man drank the tea. His gaze lingered on Nympha, then it inadvertently shifted to the man beside her.

Their gazes locked, and the man felt disgusted by Thamor’s intensity, but then someone blocked his line of sight.

"Are you going to the capital?" Lara asked.

The man was startled. He blushed when he found himself looking at a beautiful face.

He nodded.

"Those people outside are leaving soon. Why not join our caravan?"

When the young merchant heard her mention ’our’, he hastily said, "Okay" and exited the dining hall.

When the man had ascended the stairs and disappeared from view, Lara turned around. Her cold gaze flicked to Thamor, whose gaze was still fixed on the direction the young merchant had gone.

Thamor felt a chill down his spine. His gaze shifted to the woman, but she was already gone.

Why did he feel that the woman looked at him with killing intent?

Then he felt a sharp pain in his crotch.