Translator: Nox

Chapter 49

Lüsenford, that cold and barren land, had developed a great many heating devices.

Wall furnaces were a necessity, every household had five or six hot water bottles, and even the men would take up knitting as a hobby when they had nothing else to do, crafting soft, warm garments.

But Kaella had learned last night that nothing was warmer than the heat of a human body.

“That’s enough for now, so go to sleep.”

Pheon, who had been nibbling at her neck like a madman, suddenly smiled tenderly and brushed her eye corner.

“Why……?”

“When you’re healthier.”

His murmuring voice was languid and seductive.

At the same time, the way his broad chest heaved against her narrow shoulder, as if he were holding himself back over and over, felt threatening. His feverish eyes and the veins bulging on his neck proved he wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed.

“Then we can do a little more.”

Perhaps because he had shared a deep relationship with Beatrice for so long, he handled her with considerable skill.

‘Much more than back then…… No, that was a few years from now—how could it be?’

Kaella recalled a certain night but soon surrendered to sleep, lulled by the caressing hand.

And only when she awoke in the morning, filled with warmth from head to toe, did she realize that Pheon had held back once more, postponing the rest for another time. The night had not been the end.

“Did you sleep well?”

He had held her close until morning. As if he had never intended to pretend nothing had happened, he pressed kisses to her forehead and cheek before rising.

Pheon had so much to do—training his body at dawn, inspecting the troops—yet here he was, staying with her until this hour. Kaella was so surprised that she couldn’t respond.

Getting out of bed with him was a first for her, too, even after all she’d been through.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Pheon smiled softly and leaned down again to kiss the corner of her eye. She blinked several times, and his massive, solid body, which embraced her tightly, shook lightly with laughter. As if they were one body, he shared her body heat.

“You’re busy……, Your Highness.”

“Ah, it’s morning, so it’s time to observe propriety again. I’m not busy, my duchess.”

Peck, peck—the kisses rained down on her cheek and shoulder without stopping. Who was it that called him indifferent and emotionless?

Kaella had to wonder if Pheon, who kept smiling at her, was perhaps drunk. She’d seen him smile like this only once, when he was intoxicated.

“How’s your body? Not tired?”

Kaella shook her head, at a loss for words. She wasn’t experienced with men, so she always felt frustrated at her inability to respond gracefully in moments like this, but there was nothing to be done about her lack of experience.

“Good. That’s all that matters. We’ll have breakfast here together.”

“Pardon?”

Even breakfast? When she reflexively questioned him in surprise, Pheon’s eyes drooped pitifully in an instant.

“You don’t want to?”

She had never seen this man—who was so frightening, inscrutable, and irresistibly alluring that she couldn’t look away—look so dejected.

Kaella, who was seeing so many new sides of him today, broke out in a cold sweat first thing in the morning while staring at Pheon, whose expression could only be described as crestfallen.

“Was yesterday the last time you’d dine with me?”

“No, it’s not that, Your Highness…….”

“I know you’ve developed a sense of duty and have stuck to your role more faithfully since marriage, even changing your speech accordingly, but isn’t sharing a meal natural between husband and wife?”

Her husband, whom she’d met only after death, seemed hurt by the formal speech she’d grown accustomed to over the past four years.

It wasn’t as if she’d chosen it deliberately, and yet it was ironic that Pheon, who had never treated her as duchess or wife, was the one offended by it.

“Isn’t it natural?”

Kaella bit her lip at his prompting question and finally nodded. His gaze was so tender that she couldn’t meet his eyes. It felt too awkward and strange. The Pheon she knew had never acted like this. Or rather, he had only when they were children.

Was he a different person? Then was this reality another world? Could it be?

“Yes. Take your time getting up.”

A clear laugh brushed her ear, and finally, unable to resist, he pecked her cheek once more.

Kaella clutched the blanket, unable to tell if this was a dream or reality, and Pheon, watching her, couldn’t hold back any longer. He cupped her small face and kissed her.

Even under the morning light that cleared her hazy, dream-wandering mind and revealed the beautiful illusion in stark, cold reality, he couldn’t come to his senses.

No, it was because Kaella looked excessively pretty in the morning light. She was the most beautiful and adorable being he knew.

Now, he wanted to say it without holding back.

“You look even prettier in the morning, my duchess.”

Her face was surely puffy and unattractive, but he said it happily. And yet Pheon himself looked as fresh and handsome as ever, even in the morning.

“You’re beautiful.”

Pheon said it once more. The more he said it, the clearer it became that he had held these words back for so long.

He shouldn’t have averted his gaze; he should have looked straight at Kaella. He should have stolen more glances at her, even if it hurt. He shouldn’t have avoided her words; he should have listened to her voice. And he should have spoken more himself.

He thought the emotions he’d forcibly blocked, ignored, and buried had died, buried away. But the more he looked at her, spoke to her, faced her, the more those emotions mocked him, rising in a massive form he’d hidden.

It was too big for him to handle. So big that even burying it had been a sin. He hadn’t even made it disappear completely, yet turning away was irresponsible and base. Perhaps he was still avoiding the truth even now.

“Eat plenty.”

At the breakfast table brought to the bed, he pleaded over and over. The warmth of holding her for the first time in decades was too comforting to face the truth squarely. So he pleaded. Not yet—just a little longer. A little more. Please, just a little more.

Pheon’s only physical contact with reason had been Beatrice’s aggressive, stamp-like kisses. Last night, holding back the impulse to touch Kaella more had been agony.

He was terribly clumsy, and his knowledge of marital duties came solely from soldiers’ vulgar barracks talk.

He knew, at least, that it hurt women terribly. Pheon gazed anew at how tiny Kaella was, sitting beside him.

“Please eat, Your Highness.”

“Yes.”

Her shoulders were too narrow; she’d fit perfectly into his arms like this. So he had to hold back and grow more skilled.

“Does it suit your taste?”

She nodded at his question. She had answered him. Perhaps this was a new chance.

Perhaps this time, he could be happy. No, even if it wasn’t happiness or a chance, it was fine. Even just for a moment, really just a little, even once—he wanted to give her what he hadn’t before.

“What will you do today?”

“I have work.”

“Don’t overdo it. Only as much as needed to avoid boredom.”

Kaella was weak. Weak enough to die from his coldness and indifference. There had been reasons for the indifference. He couldn’t betray Beatrice and his mother; Kaella might be the emperor’s spy.

Looking back now, they were foolish, pathetic excuses, justified only when evidence emerged that Kaella was indeed the emperor’s spy. The walls he’d built over four years had shone then.

“Yes.”

“Entertain guests in moderation, too. The one we need to care about is the investigator, not Lady Lavalle. Don’t pay her any mind.”

So, even a little. If he could give her even a little of what he should have, he’d give his life for it. Even if accused of selfish satisfaction.

“Pardon?”

“Yes.”

He got her response, but Pheon had no intention of relaxing. He believed Kaella could handle things capably on her own. What he didn’t trust was Beatrice Lavalle.

Before his return, no matter how much that indifferent Pheon tried to ignore it, petty quarrels involving Kaella always cropped up. They had built up and exploded, but who knew how much happened beyond his sight.

He added red marks to the nape and shoulders exposed in the sunlight, to the pale skin already tinged with red.

“Y-Your Highness?”

“Yes.”

“It’s m-morning……!”

Kaella, whose face had turned bright red, clutched his clothes tightly. She only gripped, unable to push him away.

“Yes. Morning light makes my beautiful duchess’s marks stand out even clearer.”

“M-Mornings like this are n-no, not allowed…….”

“Should husband and wife set a specific time to love each other? I’ve never heard of such a rule.”

Kaella squeezed her eyes shut and hunched her shoulders. Her sleepy, dazed expression from waking turned in an instant to flushed cheeks, neck, and ears, leaving her flustered and adorable.

“My modest duchess might find the morning light embarrassing…….”

Whenever Pheon acted like this, Kaella felt not like she’d returned to the past, but like she’d fallen into an entirely different world.

Pheon wouldn’t act this way. The cold, indifferent Duke of Lüsenford wouldn’t hold her waist in broad daylight and kiss her nape.

The arm around her waist loosened but was too heavy, easily confining her in his embrace. The brushing lips were ticklish yet hot, making Kaella shake her head and hunch her shoulders.

“Daytime can be plenty intimate, too.”

In the end, Kaella covered her face with both hands and bowed her head. Pheon laughed aloud, holding her.

His laugh was clear and bright, and even as her face burned, Kaella thought it sounded nice. So when he suddenly stopped, she peeked through her fingers in curiosity.

Why did he stop laughing?

Pheon wore a dazed expression, as if realizing something.

“…Thanks to you, my duchess…… it’s been ages since I laughed like this.”

The muscle movements from laughing aloud felt awkward, it had been so long. Formal smiles had been all he’d mustered for years. He stared at her blankly, then laughed again.

“It’s all thanks to you.”

“I haven’t done anything…….”

She really hadn’t.

Even resolving to harbor no lingering attachments to Lüsenford or Pheon, she couldn’t turn away cleanly, like ripping a knife wound. She wavered with regrets and lingering sentiments, dragging things out here just as she had before her drawn-out death.

“Doing nothing is more than enough.”

She had resisted marriage stubbornly and run away, yet here he was acting this way—it was Pheon who seemed stranger.

He stroked her exposed shoulder through her nightgown, then gently pulled up her collar.

“If you’re embarrassed, wear something that covers this today. Please don’t get mad that I had so many made.”

“Covers what?”

Kaella tilted her head, not understanding. Pheon took her hand and rubbed the soft inner wrist.

“Like this.”

If he sucked hard and deep, as he had all night.

“Marks like this are left. Your skin is delicate, so they show up darker. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

Seconds later, understanding, Kaella yanked her collar up belatedly, and Pheon laughed merrily again.

“I-I’ll cover it all!”

“Yes. Covering your neck will keep you warm.”

So brazen! Kaella huffed and wrapped her hands around her neck. With both hands occupied, Pheon cut the egg dish and fed it to her mouth.

I can eat it myself! But she didn’t want to lower her hands! Kaella glared at the omelet before parting her lips slightly to accept it. When else would she get to eat food fed by Pheon?

“…I have no intention of interfering with your attire, my duchess, but just in case—don’t forget the rings I gave you.”

“The rings?”

“Yes. Wear both always. The second diamond is being set, so wait a bit.”

“But…….”

She knew it. Pheon looked down at the hesitant Kaella.

“But, Your Highness, if Lady Lavalle sees the diamonds, word will spread across Kline.”

Diamonds were the most precious luxury among luxuries.

If the emperor, ever greedy, learned through Beatrice that the Duchess of Lüsenford wore diamond rings far from ordinary, he’d harass Pheon again, whom he always gripped and shook.

“That’s why I’m telling you to wear them prominently.”

“But if His Majesty finds out, won’t he ask where they came from?”

“Should a man not even gift his wife a jewel? He won’t say anything.”

“Giving one more would be a problem.”

“Three is fine, my duchess.”

Heavy bracelets, heavy necklaces—something like that was acceptable. What the Duke of Lüsenford gave his wife was tied to the emperor’s face, who had arranged the marriage.

But after that, even the emperor would grow suspicious. What money does Lüsenford have for that rascal to drape his wife in such huge diamonds?

“His Majesty will be pleased. And after that, I’ll ensure there’s no cause for worry.”

“You must give to His Majesty too, Your Highness. Something better than mine, whatever it is.”

That way, she could live.

Kaella, pleading earnestly while clinging to Pheon, suddenly thought.

Live? Who? She’d decided to die—who needed to live? Kaella de Shasser, me?

……Or this man?

“Yes.”

Pheon hesitated briefly before nodding.

“I’ll do that.”

Such a thing wouldn’t happen, but unable to explain, feigning a responsible “it’s fine” was worse than playing the obedient husband. So he’d given the answer she wanted, yet her blue eyes shook wildly as she looked at him.