Previously
Dolores and Resurreccion break tradition by entering the cathedral together, deeply unsettling both Adrian and the Rochester family.
“Where do you think you’re—ow!”
What was meant to be an indignant reprimand came out as a genuine cry of pain.
Even if he thought he was holding back, a man’s pinch was sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes.
Yet he didn’t stop at one; he kept pinching her relentlessly.
Resurreccion leaned in and whispered against her ear.
“Keep making noise.”
“Ugh! Nngh…! Stop, that hurts—!”
“Can’t you see their feet right now?”
“…!”
Dolores hastily turned her head toward the door.
Beneath the gap, she could see countless pairs of shoes belonging to the Crown Prince’s Palace servants.
In fact, there were even more of them than the crowd that had bowed and seen them off earlier.
‘Repulsive.’
They were stationed there solely to confirm whether she and Resurreccion were truly consummating their marriage.
What would happen if even a single one of them raised doubts, claiming it hardly sounded like a real wedding night?
‘We would waste precious time on an annulment. I won’t let that happen.’
In the end, Dolores looked up at the Grand Duke with tear-rimmed eyes.
‘Curse this man…’
He could have at least given her a subtle warning.
Instead, he had left her to panic and nearly lose her composure entirely on her own.
Lips that had always worn a seamless smile twisted in humiliated fury.
Dolores dragged her upper body up and sank her teeth firmly into the man’s shoulder.
He was so absurdly solid that her jaw throbbed in protest.
“Kh…!”
Resurreccion’s face briefly contorted in pain.
Yet a moment later, he let out a rough, ragged chuckle.
“So that’s how you want to play it?”
“…!”
Dolores’s eyes widened at what he did next.
Resurreccion reached up and slammed his hand around the thick wooden headboard above them—and…
‘The headboard… Wait, did it just crack?’
An imperial heirloom had just been ruined by the Grand Duke’s sheer grip strength.
Her years as empress had been a living hell, but a shred of respect for state treasures remained, wrenching a frantic cry from her lips.
“Wait, the headboard! It’s breaking, wait—!”
“Forget about that.”
“Ah!”
As they tangled together, the sheets rustled in an uproar.
Resurreccion continued to mock and prod Dolores, and Dolores let out groans that could never be mistaken for an act.
“You have to keep making noise, Dolores.”
“It—it hurts, wait…! Ah!”
Now Resurreccion pinched the tender inside of her upper arm.
The skin there was delicate, so even a light pinch brought stinging tears to her eyes.
‘This man, honestly!’
The polished, elegant mask she had strived all her life to maintain cracked completely.
Irritation flared so hot at the absurd, sharp pain that her face flushed crimson.
“Ngh…!”
Dolores lashed out, kicking him in the thigh with all her might.
Yet his leg was so unyielding it felt like kicking a boulder.
She was the one who kicked, yet a pained groan slipped from her own mouth.
A startled, amused laugh rumbled from above her.
“Haha. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Ngh…”
“…Dolores?”
Resurreccion paused when Dolores curled inward, burying her face in her hands.
“Wait. Are you actually crying?”
“N-no… That’s not it…”
Her body was simply trembling from the sheer physical ache.
Her foot throbbed where she had kicked him. Her arm and thigh stung and burned.
It might have produced a convincing performance, but the pain was very real.
On top of that, she had barely eaten anything all day for fear of vomiting at the sight of Adrian.
‘We can’t let them doubt the marriage, though.’
Even so, Dolores couldn’t hold back a quiet mumble.
“It really hurts, you know…”
“…”
Resurreccion cast his gaze down in silence.
She seemed so frail that a light tap might break her, yet he hadn’t expected such a light touch to genuinely hurt her this much.
‘What on earth am I doing?’
For a moment, he couldn’t see the point in any of this either.
Even so, he reached out and gently rubbed the tender spot on her arm where he had pinched her last.
Dolores flinched, nearly arching away in surprise.
His touch was unexpectedly gentle.
Perhaps because his hands were warm, the soothing friction seemed to melt into her skin.
“Did it hurt that much?”
“Mmh…”
“I thought I was holding back.”
“Do you really think… we’re built the same…?”
“I didn’t realize you were quite this fragile.”
Resurreccion glanced toward the door.
The eavesdroppers were still lingering, refusing to let down their guard.
It was as if they were determined not to miss a single breath or whisper between husband and wife.
Dolores followed his gaze to the door and resigned herself.
If enduring a few pinches to her arms and thighs would shake off those wretched leeches, so be it.
In return, desperate to make Resurreccion feel some pain as well, she surreptitiously dug her fingernails into his shoulder.
Through the darkness, the two stared at each other with narrowed eyes.
Faint, matching sneers tugged at their lips.
“Be a little gentler.”
“I’ll try.”
The people tasked with listening outside the newlyweds’ bridal chamber had kept their eyes squeezed shut for hours.
Since they couldn’t see inside anyway, it was the only defense they had against what they were forced to hear.
A few silently recited prayers. Others looked up at the ceiling, suppressing desperate groans.
‘Good heavens.’
‘How utterly scandalous…’
The Crown Prince had been ironclad in his conviction that Dolores Rochester would never go through with the consummation.
Yet no matter how hard they strained their ears, there was no mistaking it…
“Ah!”
“You have to keep making noise.”
“It—it hurts, wait…!”
It could only be the sounds of a rough, passionate first night.
When the sharp crack of heavy timber splintering echoed through the door, the attendants had nearly jumped out of their skins.
The Grand Duchess had even cried out in distress.
“The headboard! It’s breaking, wait—!”
True to his moniker, the Beast of the Empire was violently ardent in his pursuits.
‘J-just how strong is he…!’
Nor did the spectacle end with a single bout.
Time and again, the sound of rustling sheets and muffled, scolding groans drifted through the wood.
The true spectacle, however, came the following morning when the door finally opened.
The head maid in charge of the guest suite stepped inside cautiously, her face flushed all the way to her hairline.
‘Merciful heavens, how indecent…’
The Grand Duchess appeared to still be asleep, curled up with her back turned beneath the duvet.
‘The headboard really did break…’
The polished wooden frame was split clean down the center, with splinters scattered across the floor.
“Head Maid.”
“…! Yes, Your Highness.”
Resurreccion stood before her, his upper body bare for all to see.
Bite marks marked the curve of his shoulder, and his back was raked with fierce scratches.
Though she was an older woman, the sight alone made her throat go dry.
“Ahem. Your Highness, if you are awake, I shall prepare a bath.”
“No need. We already washed up on our own, so just bring tea.”
“Yes, Your Highness…”
A headache throbbed behind the head maid’s temples as she wondered how on earth to report this to Adrian.
By now, her master would be eagerly awaiting proof to annul the union.
‘No. I don’t see any definitive proof that the deed was done.’
Her hawkish eyes darted about, but Resurreccion caught her in the act.
A smirk played on his lips as he closed the distance between them without a sound.
“Looking for something?”
“Well… I only worried whether Your Highness experienced any discomfort through the night. I ought to change the bed linens…”
“Ah.”
Of course. That bloody proof.
Resurreccion felt disgusted on the inside, but he maintained a sly, knowing smile.
He gestured meaningfully toward his crumpled robe discarded on the floor.
“My robe was soiled instead of the sheets.”
If she wanted bloodstains, he could easily have squeezed a few drops from the wounds he had received in the recent Anglesey unrest.
Still, seeing the maid’s face fall into utter despair was quite entertaining.
Before long, Adrian would wear that exact same look.
Once the head maid departed, Dolores fluttered her trembling eyelids open.
‘I’m exhausted…’
How could this possibly be more draining than the actual wedding night of her first life?
It was likely because the sheer absurdity of the pain had stoked her spite.
Halfway through, she had forgotten they were only putting on a show and become consumed with paying Resurreccion back for every bit of pain he inflicted.
Of course, being the physically weaker one, she had succumbed to exhaustion and blacked out first.
Though they had washed as dawn approached, she had collapsed back onto the bed the moment she pulled on a chemise.
Just then, the rattle of a wheeled service cart drifted into the room.
As expected, servants had arrived bearing morning tea and light fruit.
‘Now I’d like to speak with the Grand Duke in peace.’
Would it be safe to dismiss them now?
Dolores parted her lips to speak, and the Grand Duke strolled closer right on cue.
“Grand Duke—”
“Are you awake, Wife?”
“…!”
She nearly froze at his remarkably sweet, courteous greeting.
That man knew how to use such a gentle voice and feign a tender smile?
Recovering instantly, Dolores curved her eyes into a flawless smile.
“Yes. Good morning. Are we having that here?”
“Mm. I thought it would be more comfortable to eat together in bed.”
Resurreccion smiled with his eyes as well, though a mocking glint lingered behind them.
“Considering how exhausting last night must have been for you.”
“…My goodness. How embarrassing.”
Dolores placed a light kiss on his cheek. She wore a smile, but her eyes remained cold.
“Thank you so much.”
“Think nothing of it. It’s the least I could do.”
Resurreccion replied smoothly, then signaled the servants with a glance.
Relieved to be dismissed, they bowed their heads, blushing furiously, and made a hasty retreat.
Dolores presumed their vivid imaginations were running wild over the supposed passions of the night before.
A short while after the door clicked shut behind them.
“Was that convincing enough for you?”
She took a sip of hot tea, her tone shifting straight back to cool, dry business.