The Lord’s Forced Bride +21

CHAPTER 2

ELENA

Finally, I got used to the horse and escaped from that pervert's lap. All along the way, that huge thing kept rubbing against my buttocks. I can still feel that pressure on my flesh. That bastard lord! Pervert lord! That male specimen who gets aroused at the slightest touch! Is there any woman in his castle he hasn't had his way with? If he's so high and mighty, his private life must be quite eventful.

During the days-long journey, Andreas always rode ahead, occasionally turning to look at me. When I saw the hatred in his eyes, I thought, 'Maybe he wants to kill me and be free of this marriage.' At times, I struggled on the back of this huge horse, almost falling off, but I stubbornly resisted. I didn't want to continue the journey in his lap.

"It's obvious that English ladies aren't very resilient. If you want, you can switch to my horse, my lady," he said when he saw me struggling to control my horse. He spoke as if he cared about me, but his tone was mocking. He clearly couldn't stand the idea of me riding alone. I'm grateful to the inner voice that said, 'What am I lacking compared to Scottish women? You have two arms and two legs, after all, you can do it, Elena! Come on, girl, who can stop you? Show that barbarian who you are!' Otherwise, I might have lowered my shoulders and accepted his sarcastic offer.

Even though I was out of breath, I managed to say, "You're wrong. I'll complete this journey without difficulty. I'm not as weak a lady as I appear. Don't worry."

Andreas shrugged. "We'll see," he said, turning his head away. I could see he was underestimating me. My pride was making me defy him. And my defiance was no cure for my aching legs.

***

When we stopped in a small Scottish village, I couldn't get off the horse by myself. Andreas tied up the horse's oats and then approached me. When he extended his hands, I grabbed his shoulders and let myself fall into his muscular arms. He held me in the air without my feet touching the ground and looked into my eyes.

"Are you sure your legs will hold?" he said mockingly. I was uncomfortable with him holding me in the air like a toy doll, his breath hitting my face. When his gaze drifted to my cleavage, I noticed his jaw tighten. He swallowed, grinding his teeth together.

"Of course I'm fine! Let go and you'll see!"

Actually, my legs were numb. Even my arms hurt. Andreas put me down and leaned toward my ear. "It's very nice that the English are so generous in displaying their breasts, but if you show them off again, I'll bite them until they're bruised!"

My mouth fell open. I quickly covered the collar of my cloak. "Are all Scottish lords as immoral as you? If this is a trait unique to you, I will write a letter to my king and ask him to find me a more suitable husband!"

"Are you trying to play with my honor, Lady Elena?"

“I intend to protect my honor, my lord!”

“If you say that again, it won’t be your honor you’ll be protecting, but your life, my lady! Have no doubt about that!” he said angrily.

Ooo... I guess the lord's sensitive spot is his honor. This man would kill me for his honor, I was convinced. So, taking a step back, I said, "Well then, try talking to me without being rude!" and walked towards the inn with quick steps. My legs hurt, but not as much as his deadly glances.

The guests at the inn also looked at me with similar hostility. They all looked at me as if they wanted to kill me. It was obvious from my appearance that I was an English lady. The dress I was wearing, in particular, made it clear that I was a princess of royal descent. And the necklace around my neck was a royal insignia. Even though my hair was messy, it was the messy bun style preferred by the English.

The expression on their faces was pure displeasure. My father took me by the arm and showed us to our seats in the inn. "Take a breath, my daughter."

The inn smelled of smoke. Simple animal hides hung on the walls. There was a large fireplace, but it was still a cold, gloomy place.

Soon after, Andreas and his soldiers followed us in. Those who had looked at me with hatred bowed respectfully before Andreas.

My father had gone to the sink. When I was left alone, Andreas grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him.

“If you stay here any longer, they’ll grab that necklace and strangle you, my lady!”

“But I didn’t do anything to them.”

“The King did!”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me into one of the rooms. "So you agreed to marry me knowing full well you wouldn't be happy in this marriage, Lady Elena!"

His gaze was as cold as ice, his touch as hot as fire. Still, I tried to stay calm.

"Lord Andreas," I began with difficulty. "I actually said from the start that I didn't want this marriage! I would have preferred to remain alone for a lifetime than marry you! But I wasn't given a choice! You know that, don't you? Because as nobles, we must obey our kings' decisions. This might prevent more bloodshed. That's why I didn't defy this order, even though it meant unhappiness! To protect my people from barbarians like you..."

A bitter smile appeared on Andreas' face. "Barbarians, yes! What about the English, Lady Elena? Who will account for the blood England has spilled on our soil for years? Your father? Your king?" His voice was cold. "The wounds you inflicted are nothing compared to the wounds we inflicted!"

My throat tightened. “I haven’t harmed anyone.”

"Are you sure?" he said, moving a little closer. His gaze held me captive. "Didn't you sit silently in your palace while your lineage, the king to whom you are bound by death, committed g******e?!? Those who are complicit in evil are just as guilty as the perpetrators!"

“How do you know we didn’t oppose the war! Our king was pressured into peace by my father and the other princes!”

“Of course he wanted peace when cornered! But this peace won’t last long, Lady Elena! Be sure of that!”

“What… what does that mean?”

"You'll understand when you become my wife!" he said, squeezing my arm tighter and pulling me closer to him. His breath hitting my lips, he asked, "Have you ever been f****d hard by a Scotsman, my lady?"

I felt a tightness in my chest. His words, spoken so close to my lips, made my heart race with fear. His stern features remained unyielding despite his mocking tone.

“Let me go, Lord Andreas! You can’t treat me like this!”

"Why? Aren't you my war prize? I'll treat you however I want! I'll even f**k you without marrying you! Not even your father can take you from me! I think you're smart enough to know the fate of anyone who dares to try!"

Tears streamed from my eyes as I pleaded, “Please, my Lord…”

“Please, my Lord, huh… How did you suddenly turn into a scared little kitten, my Lady? Are you so afraid of me f*****g you, or of me taking your father’s life?”

Avoiding his gaze, I replied in a faint voice, “Both…”

"Prepare to pay for the pain you've caused my people, English bastard..." he said, cupping my buttocks and squeezing them very hard. Then, pressing his lips to my neck, he said, "I'll start making you pay soon!" and pinned me completely between him and the wall.

I took deep breaths. The touch of his lips, his grip on my hips, was too much. My heart began to beat rapidly. I held my breath when his lips touched my neck. His hand squeezing my hips slid lower. The trembling of my body was unexpected. It was as if I enjoyed his touch... How could he make me feel this way while humiliating me?

"You're already ready to pay the price..." he said mockingly. "If you get bored and want to have fun, I'll be in the next room, my lady."

I remained silent in response to his words. Andreas, as if he had gotten what he wanted, suddenly let go of me and turned his head away.

I sat down on the chair and took a few more deep breaths. My father came in right after Andreas left. It was a miracle he even found my room. "Daughter? Why is your face bright red? Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine, Dad, nothing's wrong... We just had an argument with that lord jerk." I couldn't tell him how he had touched me.

My hands were shaking as my father handed me a bowl of water. I was still under the influence of his closeness and threat. What was I going to do with this man? I understood more or less how I would pay the price. My true duty had now become a weapon against me.

Perhaps he was right in his anger and hatred.

The British army had indeed caused great suffering to the Scots. But I… I was only eighteen, yet he spoke as if I were to blame for what had happened. I was afraid of what might happen. Of what he might do to me…

***