Chapter 27 - King Cinderella: Two Hearts Entwined in Sin

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Chapter 27

 

 

As he was stripped with brutal force, Chalon could barely register the shock before his buttocks were exposed.

 

"Brother… No, please! Have you lost your mind!? Stop this!"

 

"Don't lower your hips! I'm going to extract every trace of his seed to prove your guilt!"

 

"Brother, how could you… No! Stop!"

 

Chalon's belly was lifted upward by Varius's powerful hand. He reached back, wrapping his hands around his brother's arm in desperate resistance. But strength was not on his side. As he struggled and pushed in vain, he noticed Varius bite off his right glove.

 

By the time he shouted, "No, stop!" again, a finger had already been forced into his rear.

 

"Hh…ah…nng…!"

 

"It's written all over your face—you've just been lying with him! You may not see it with your poor eyesight, but the truth is obvious even without checking your body. And yet this—this is undeniable physical evidence!"

 

"No… please stop…!"

 

The same place that had just taken in Erald's firm manhood was now forcefully pried open by Varius's fingers. The friction stung, but two long digits pressed deep inside.

 

Though Chalon had cleaned himself as best he could after, he could still feel what lingered deep within.

 

When Varius's fingers reached it, it began to slide downward along his flesh, serving as a shameful lubricant.

 

"Ahh… Brother, please… I beg you…"

 

"—Listen. Can you hear how smoothly my fingers move now? This sound is proof—the proof that you slept with him, spilling out onto my hand."

 

"Uuh… Ah… N-No…!"

 

Even without being told, Chalon could feel the sticky liquid trailing down his inner thighs.

 

Erald's crime—embracing a prince as another man—was now being drawn out into the open, and Chalon trembled, overwhelmed with remorse.

 

Both he and Erald had wanted to share that moment of intimacy before they were parted. But it was Chalon who'd wished to take Erald's semen into his body, who had asked for it. And now that very desire had driven Erald into danger.

 

He never imagined his brother would go so far.

 

How foolish he had been, giving in to his longing without fear of the consequences.

 

"Look at it! Even with your eyes, you must be able to see this slick, white fluid glistening under the moonlight! It's rich, fresh seed—clearly brimming with potent life! There's no mistaking that it was just released here moments ago! This is the evidence of that man's crime! Still think you can talk your way out of this?"

 

Varius, wielding the power to condemn even an innocent commoner to death, now held Erald's seed up before Chalon's face. Chalon looked away.

 

Though still overwhelmed by despair and remorse, he could not allow his emotions to overtake him—not when doing so would only make him fall right into his brother's trap. He clenched his teeth, forcing back tears, and began to consider Varius' true intent.

 

From the perspective of the crown prince, there was no real benefit in going to such lengths to incriminate someone as powerless as Erald. It seemed more likely that the one Varius truly wanted to condemn was not Erald—but his own younger brother.

 

As crown prince, Varius' position was unshakable. A disabled younger brother like Chalon posed no threat to his succession. But perhaps, for some reason, Varius now sought to brand Chalon a criminal and have him disinherited.

 

Varius had shown no particular affection toward his illegitimate children. Until now, Chalon had never even considered the possibility—but if something were to happen and Varius died without leaving behind a legitimate heir, the throne would pass to Chalon.

 

Even if Chalon refused the throne on account of his disability, should he have a legitimate son by that time, that child would take precedence over Varius' illegitimate offspring. Varius' bloodline would be barred from the throne.

 

Logically speaking, most people would prioritize their own child over a sibling. It wouldn't be strange for Varius to want to remove Chalon for the sake of his children's future. In fact, Varius had once said he would never let Chalon marry anyone.

 

If that's how it is, then so be it. If losing my title and being branded a heretic is what it takes to free myself from my brother's obsessive grip, then I welcome it. I want to live in a small home in the woods, with Erald and the animals, feeling the quiet joy of each passing day.

 

That was the wish slumbering in Chalon's heart. But if someone must bear the guilt—it must be him alone. A royal with claim to the throne, once found to be a heretic, might be disinherited, but never executed. A commoner, however, would face certain death.

 

As Varius continued to violate him, scooping out Erald's seed from within, shouting, "Speak! What have you done, you vile heretic!", Chalon began to think of a way to shoulder the blame alone.

 

His eyes landed on the two white dogs faintly visible in the darkness of the forest.

 

Belfe and Liege—clever hounds, male and female—bared their fangs and barked furiously. They recognized Varius as a threat to their master, but also knew he was someone they must not attack.

 

"Brother… It's true. I am a heretic. But Erald… he is not. He did not lie with me. The essence now spilling from my body—it is not his. It belongs to Belfe… After I parted ways with my friend Erald… I succumbed to base desires and committed the sin of bestiality."

 

If he alone bore the guilt as a heretic, and vanished from before both the king and Varius, then perhaps Varius, relieved for his children's future, would forgive him. Betting his life on that faint hope, Chalon was thrown violently into the tree trunk the next moment.

 

"──Ah, ugh…!"

 

"Don't be absurd! Do you even understand what you're saying!? Is that man so important to you that you'd defend him with such shameless lies!? What is it about him… what makes him so special!?"

 

"Ah… ngh…"

 

His shoulder slipped against the moss-covered bark, and Chalon slumped helplessly to the ground.

 

The scent of moss was followed by the earthy smell of soil, grass, tree roots, and the acrid rot of fallen fruits.

 

"If you claim to have mated with one so base as to have neither status nor speech, then I shall deliver judgment myself."

 

"Brother…!?"

 

"To the filthy beast who defiled your body and poured his essence into you—I sentence death."

 

Unable to move properly due to the clothing tangled around his legs, Chalon twisted toward the sound of the voice. His eyes widened in disbelief as he saw Varius draw what looked like a gun.

 

"Brother! What are you going to do to Belfe!? Please, stop! Don't do this!"

 

He wanted to believe the glint of metal and the silhouette in the moonlight were just lies.

 

Ahead of Varius's outstretched right hand, the two white dogs barked furiously, beyond all reason.

 

Falsely accused by Chalon, Belfe, now labeled a beast of sin, stood trembling with conflict between terror and loyalty, alongside Liege—his mate, nearly indistinguishable from him to the eye.

 

The dogs' fear at the murderous intent radiating from Varius reached even Chalon.

 

"Stop──!"

 

Even as his voice rang through the forest, it was instantly drowned out by the gunshot.

 

With the first blast, Belfe's body was hurled like paper, and the air reeked of gunpowder.

 

Chalon screamed again in vain as the second bullet pierced Liege's skull.

 

As the white fur turned crimson, Chalon silently shook his head.

 

He could no longer scream. He could no longer cry. His limbs would not obey him to run to the fallen dogs. It felt as though his heart was bleeding out of him, draining from his body until nothing was left.

 

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