Chapter 3: Hand Me The Soap, Husband
"Let us see if you can survive the consequences of my hunger."
Esme’s heart was hammering, but she forced herself to stay calm. She was standing half-naked in front of a man who had already killed her once in this world. Every instinct screamed at her to cover herself, to beg, to run. But she couldn’t.
Fear is a luxury I can’t afford. Not in front of him.
She slowly moved her hands and slid them up his chest. Her bare palms moved over the embroidery of his jacket, feeling his erratic heartbeat.
The monster’s heart is racing. Wow!!!
It gave her a little courage. Then she lifted her head and met his eyes.
"Are you going to devour me standing up, Eveyr or do we get the luxury of the sheets?" she whispered.
Eveyr froze. His grip on her shoulders spasmed, his fingers digging in hard enough to make her gasp. His expression had changed. He had expected a crying, trembling and begging bride but Esme was nothing like that.
His eyes widened, lips slightly parted, and brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at her like she was speaking in a language he didn’t understand.
Slowly, his grip on her shoulders loosened. But before she could breathe, bold red text appeared in her vision.
[SYSTEM ALERT: PENALTY ACTIVATED]
Target State: Confused / Calming.
Obsession Meter: 18% → 14%
Punishment: Vitality Drain (Level 1)
Immediately, a sharp, stabbing pain exploded in her left lung, like someone had pierced a hot needle through it. Her knees buckled. She had to press her hands harder against his jacket to stay upright as the pain increased with every passing second.
Fourteen percent? He calmed down and I got punished?
Another red text appeared in her vision.
[SYSTEM CLARIFICATION]
The Husband Redemption Program does not want the target redeemed.
Every time he spirals deeper into obsession and madness → Rewards.
Every time he pulls back and becomes calmer → Punishments, that may result in host’s soul deletion permanently.
Esme’s mind raced immediately.
So the system didn’t want a redeemed husband. It wants a monster who is obsessed with me. If I want to survive then I have to feed that obsession without becoming its victim. I have to walk the razor’s edge between provoking him and keeping myself alive.
Esme’s blood ran cold at the thought.
Wonderful. Fantastic. Truly top-tier transmigration experience. Would prefer choking on a riceball again.
Eveyr was still staring at her with that bewildered, unsettled expression.
Stay confused. I need a second to think.
The pain in her lung was fading now.
Looks like the duration of the level 1 punishment is over.
But she couldn’t waste time and wait for level 2. She shoved her hands against his chest sharply and stepped out of his reach, putting distance between them. Eveyr stared at his empty hands hanging in the air. The expression on his face was almost comical.
"Actually, I’ve changed my mind," she said, turning away.
And walked towards the far side of the room, where a doorway led to the bathroom.
"The cathedral was freezing," she said over her shoulder, without looking at him. "And this corset has bruised my ribs. I need a bath."
She reached the bathroom door and stepped inside. The bathroom was enormous. Of course it was. Everything in that nightmare castle was enormous.
Her eyes immediately stopped at a large tub at the center. It was sunken into the floor, carved from white marble. Esme walked to it and turned on the taps. Hot water rushed out, steam quickly filling the room.
I can’t lock the door. He will see the locked door as a challenge and will try to break through. But an open door will tell him I’m not afraid and make him frustrated.
She reached for the hem of her silk slip. She could feel him standing by the door. He had followed her. She saw him in her peripheral vision, standing with his head tilted slightly and eyes fixed on her body, tracking her every micromovement from the twitch of her fingers to the rise and fall of her chest.
The atmosphere in the bathroom suddenly became dense and heavy. He was waiting for her to panic. He wanted her to cover herself, beg him to leave and to look away.
She smiled faintly.
Sorry, Your Grace. But I need points.
She kept her eyes on the water, took a deep breath and slowly, gathering her all courage, slid the silk slip off her shoulders.
The fabric pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of it and walked naked into the steaming tub. The heat of the water wrapped around her like a second skin.
Every instinct told her to sink lower, and to stop this dangerous game before it went too far. But she kept her posture relaxed, letting the steam curl around her shoulders without worrying about his reaction.
The water was almost scalding. It bit into her skin, making every nerve in her body scream before going numb. She sank down until the water reached her collarbones, the heat seeping into her muscles, and into her bones.
She let out a long, satisfied sigh like she were at a luxury spa instead of sitting naked in front of a murderer.
Then she finally looked at him.
Eveyr had gone completely still. His hands were clenched at his sides, his fingers curled tightly. The darkness from earlier had returned to his eyes but it was slightly different now. It made him look less like a predator and more like a man who had just encountered something he couldn’t control.
Esme rested her head against the edge of the tub, her wet hair floating around her shoulders in the steaming water and looked at him with the exact same expression she would give a waiter who was taking too long with her order.
"Hand me the soap, husband," she said loudly. "Or are you just going to stand there breathing heavily all night?"
