If You Want a Cheeky Sorceress

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Princess.” The friend who killed my family. “I know that you were very kind to me. I know that you cared for me very much. But what can I do?” He branded me with the slave’s brand on his shoulder and cried. “I wish you could die without smelling Adelia’s scent. That’s my wish.” I, who had lost everything, also wanted to die like that. I was put in a small box and sold, and on my way, I was saved by a man like a tiger who came with flames. “Yes, Princess. Chew my fingers. Eat and swallow something to at least put up with my damned ridicule. Put your nails in my face.” Why are you trying to save me when you saved me? “I kissed these lips. This neck. These arms and legs, the tips of my toes. I rubbed my body without leaving a single one out.” Why do I, who couldn’t protect even one family member, react to your flame? A woman who wanted to die met a man who wanted to save her, and decided to live. With only one goal in mind: to pull the legs of those who pushed her into hell, and roll through the fires of hell together.

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