Chapter 1967: Loud Guests
Nessa followed Marielle out, anxious to get downstairs before this became a complaint about the staff. Near the bathing room, five women who had arrived with the family were approaching from rooms farther along the corridor.
The silver-haired one stopped when Marielle planted herself in their path.
"You’re travelling with that man, aren’t you?"
"Which man?"
"The one fucking his entire household next door!"
"Ah." The silver-haired woman glanced toward the closed door as another muffled cry escaped beneath it. "Yes."
Marielle drew herself up.
"Some of us have been travelling all day. I finally lie down, and apparently he has decided the whole inn needs to hear such degenerate sounds."
"Yeah, well, he’s on his honeymoon." The large tanker grinned.
The silver-haired woman rubbed her forehead. "I should’ve demanded rooms on another floor like ’that’ woman. What a careless oversight."
"You should demand that he behave himself. His wives must be exhausted. This is basically domestic abuse."
"Mm... They sound happy."
The sleepy woman riding on the tall, masked one’s back had spoken. She rested her cheek against her companion’s shoulder while Marielle stared up at her.
"I’m talking about his lack of consideration."
"...For you?" the sleepy woman murmured. "I don’t think he even knows you exist..."
Nessa lowered her gaze before Marielle could see her expression.
"A man with that many women ought to learn some restraint."
"Why? He has exceptional stamina and his wives enjoy it," the masked woman answered. Her entire face was hidden, not an inch of skin visible.
The spear-wielding woman looked toward her. "You’re not helping."
"Wasn’t trying to."
"..."
𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎
Marielle turned upon the sleepy woman instead.
"Surely you would prefer a husband capable of leaving you in peace?"
"No, that sounds awful... I’d prefer one who takes me places... carries me when I’m tired... and hmm... By the sounds of it, having him be good in bed would be fun too..."
The sleepy woman nestled more comfortably against her masked companion.
"His wives are lucky women."
"Perhaps you’d care to join them, then!"
"Mm... Maybe with my cute mount helping me? Tag team combat... I fear alone I’d be destroyed..."
"Excuse me?" The masked one lost her attitude.
Nessa bit the inside of her cheek. Losing her position because she laughed at her guests would be a very stupid end to her afternoon.
Marielle turned back toward the bathing room.
"You’re all fucking useless. I’ll speak to him myself."
"Sure," the silver-haired woman nodded, moving on.
Nessa followed a few paces behind. She ought to fetch the innkeeper, but leaving an angry guest hammering on another guest’s door felt equally likely to get her blamed.
"Excuse me!"
Marielle’s knuckles struck the wood. She waited, then knocked again, harder.
"There are other people staying here!"
Wet skin continued slapping for several seconds before the rhythm slowed.
"A moment."
Water moved inside. A woman giggled, another complained about losing her seat, and heavy footsteps approached the door.
The latch lifted.
"Is there a problem?"
Black armour covered the man’s face, and a heavy robe hid every patch of skin below it.
He opened the door only far enough to stand in the gap, one hand resting against the frame.
But there was an issue with his modest attire, namely the large tent he pitched in the crotch area.
Marielle stopped breathing.
So did Nessa.
She had spent half the afternoon wondering how this man satisfied so many women. One look at the enormous length straining beneath his robe gave her several answers and created far more questions.
There was no chance the wives took that thing one night at a time.
Right?
Marielle’s mouth opened, but her eyes had fallen to the front of his robe.
"What in the Goddess’s name is wrong with you?!"
"Nothing I’m aware of."
She pointed at the tent pitched beneath his robe. "Is that some kind of mutation? No normal man should be that large! You’re hideous to look at."
Behind her, Andre reached the corridor with the forgotten slipper in his hand.
"Marielle..."
"What? Yours is much smaller. It isn’t even a quarter that size."
"You didn’t see me standing at attention-"
"I have."
"...Why would you tell him all this?" he whimpered.
"You’re a healthy adult male, perfect to measure how much of a freak another man is."
"That’s..." Andre’s face emptied.
Nessa found herself sympathizing with him all over again.
The helmet remained turned toward Andre for a long second before the stranger shrugged.
"I’m all natural. My mothers’ breast milk helped me grow healthy."
Nessa choked on air.
"That is not an explanation!" Marielle snapped.
He shrugged again. "Well, okay. Now, if you don’t mind, I have business to attend to."
"I do mind! That is why I came here! You have been driving some screaming harlot into my wall while I’m trying to rest!"
The stranger went completely still.
His red eyes fixed on Marielle through the helmet, and every trace of casual amusement vanished from his voice.
"Do not call my wife that."
The words came quietly, yet Nessa’s knees weakened beneath their murderous weight. She understood that he wanted Marielle dead. Even the robe pitched obscenely before him had become menacing.
Andre hurried to his wife’s side, the forgotten slipper still clutched in one hand.
"I apologize for her. She’s exhausted from the journey, and she doesn’t think before she speaks."
"Andre!" Marielle pulled her arm away when he reached for her. "Do not apologize to this degenerate on my behalf. He should be ashamed of himself!"
The helmet remained pointed at her.
Marielle lifted her chin and sneered back, far too stubborn to acknowledge anything wrong with her attitude.
"It’s alright, baby," the kind woman called from inside. "Ignore the miserable creature and come back to us. The room is so cold without you..."
The man said nothing.
Nessa kept her hands locked together while the silence stretched. Andre had gone pale beside his wife, but Marielle continued glaring at the man as though she had won something.
At last, he turned toward Andre. The stranger looked at the slipper in his hand, then at the woman beside him. He rested one gloved hand on Andre’s shoulder.
"My condolences."
Andre stared at him. "...Thank you?"
The stranger withdrew his hand and turned back to Marielle.
"We’ll keep the noise down."
"Husband..." a woman called from behind him. "I’m horny..."
Another wife laughed. "Come on, you’re better than this! Let the poor man answer the door properly at least!"
The man shook his head and turned.
"Girls, you’re bothering the neighbours. Get the mouth gags out."
"Ooohhh~ Punishment time~" the horny voice purred, far too excited.
Nessa’s thighs tightened again. He said it with the same casual ease he might have used to answer a request for another towel.
"That is not what I meant!" Marielle shouted. "You cannot gag them and keep doing it!"
The robed man didn’t bother responding.
"You are disgusting!"
Ignoring her newest remark, he turned toward Nessa.
"Thank you for helping us settle in. I’m very impressed with this inn’s facilities and staff."
She dragged her gaze up from the impossible bulge.
"You’re... very welcome, sir."
"Don’t thank her while I’m talking to you!"
He closed the door in Marielle’s face.
She drew back one fist. Andre caught her wrist before it struck the wood.
"Let go of me!"
"At our levels, you’ll tear the door off its hinges. We’ll have to pay for the damage."
"Then pay for it!"
"With what?"
"Open this door! I am not finished!"
"But I am about to be~!" the horny woman cried from inside.
Wet skin slapped once.
*Pap!*
"AHN~!"
Marielle screamed and drove her foot toward the door. Andre dropped the slipper, caught her around the waist, and lifted her from the floor before her boot reached the wood.
"Put me down!"
"When you stop trying to destroy the first inn we entered in Sarthal."
She kicked furiously at empty air while he carried her back toward their room.
"This filthy fucking inn!"