Chapter 56
That night, the duke naturally did not leave his bedroom.
“When the weather starts to warm up, accidents become more frequent and it’s easy to catch a cold.”
Above all, keeping the body warm was most important, so the duke took Kaella into his arms before her freshly washed body could cool.
“I’ll dry your hair, so leave us.”
After seating her in front of the fireplace, Pheon dismissed the maids and reached for the towel wrapped around her hair. At her look that questioned whether he even knew how to do such a thing, he smiled faintly.
“I’ve often seen my mother do it.”
It was the first time Kaella had heard him refer to the empress not as ‘Her Imperial Majesty’ but simply as ‘mother.’ She glanced back at him before turning away again and mumbling.
“You should dry your hair too, Your Highness.”
Pheon, who had bathed first and been waiting, had a towel draped haphazardly over his own head.
“My hair is short, so I can just shake it out.”
His hair, inherited from the empress, was as thick and dense as ebony, and it had grown a bit longer since the wedding—so it wasn’t something he could just shake out—but he simply grinned.
Kaella bowed her head. She was embarrassed to have shown him her foolish side, vomiting up the food she’d wolfed down in her haste. Death and pride were separate matters. This time, even if she died, she wanted to go with her head held high and dignity intact. That made it all the more humiliating.
“The head chef prepared the meal especially for you today. I enjoyed it immensely. You’ve chosen an excellent chef.”
As he dried her long, lustrous platinum hair with the towel, Pheon assessed his wife’s nutritional state. No matter how he looked at it, she needed to eat more.
“It was a welcome meal for me too, but for you, who must miss the warm south in this cold place, it must have been even more so.”
And he would never be able to enter the list of things Kaella longed for.
For a sinner, it was only natural retribution—hardly even qualifying as punishment. Yet to Pheon, it somehow felt like torment, painful and agonizing. Wouldn’t that be fortunate for Kaella, though?
“If you’d been in good health, you would have eaten well.”
Drying hair was no simple task. A precious horsehair comb had to be oiled and passed through it multiple times. Pheon repeated the process without a hint of complaint.
“It wasn’t a relaxed meal anyway. I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Kaella blurted out something she never would have asked under normal circumstances.
“If you’re apologizing on behalf of what Lady Lavalle said, don’t. If you apologize for your lover’s actions, it means you’re taking her side, Your Highness. It sounds like you’ll always do so, and that I should just accept it.”
After speaking, her heart shrank in dread. She was scared. Would he get angry? Of course he would.
When Pheon got angry, he became utterly terrifying. But since she’d once endured and borne that fearful, horrifying rage, Kaella just said what she wanted to say.
Just as Beatrice was precious to Pheon, she too had things precious to her. There were things she wanted to protect until her dying breath.
“That wasn’t what I meant to apologize for. I explained it clearly enough. It’s not my fault if someone lacked the intelligence to understand and acted rudely toward you anyway.”
What? Kaella blinked. Intelligence?
The startled Kaella turned to look at the northern conqueror of great renown, the knight among knights, a man of lowly birth yet the most noble.
Pheon gently grasped her long hair and combed it down to the ends with steady calm. It was far more careful than when he’d brushed a warhorse’s mane. In that sense, at least, his duchess was receiving better treatment than a horse.
“I’m sorry for interrupting the meal so suddenly with uncomfortable words. That’s what I wanted to apologize for. I cut in before you could speak.”
He was referring to how he’d stepped in before Kaella could respond to Beatrice’s provocation.
“And it seems that made you feel ill.”
“No.”
Kaella shook her head urgently.
“You spoke up for me, Your Highness. It wasn’t because of you that I felt ill.”
“Ah. So it was because of Lady Lavalle after all.”
For a moment, she thought Pheon’s eyes had gleamed sharply. Or was it an illusion? No, his eyes were still sharp. That unwavering gaze boring into her alone looked ready to kill. But somehow, Kaella wasn’t afraid of it.
“……I just ate too hastily.”
“The only one who said that at the table was Lady Lavalle herself. Neither Isidore nor I thought so. I was glad to see you eating so heartily. Or were my eyes mistaken?”
Kaella met Pheon’s eyes again, eyes that were still hard to face directly. When she did, he smiled softly.
“You need to eat well. Eat plenty, digest it properly, and get healthy. As for the waistband comment—that was my mistake too. I’m sorry if it displeased you.”
“……It didn’t displease me.”
Even recalling it now, that was true.
“I was just surprised that you took my side, Your Highness.”
Because she’d thought he never would.
“As your husband, of course I should.”
No. Nothing between them was a matter of course.
“Thank you for playing the husband.”
It was precisely because it wasn’t natural that she had to express her thanks so politely each time.
“The waistband was something only my husband could say.”
“And I know it well enough to say it.”
“You do?”
“I do. You can tell just by touching.”
“Ah, so it’s from experience.”
Kaella accepted it calmly, but Pheon, who had been so composed until then, suddenly looked flustered.
“Experience? No, I mean, it’s not that it’s from experience—well, of course it is, but here in Lüsenford, gauging sizes roughly for everything is just daily life, and it wasn’t a woman. No. Absolutely not, Kaella. The only waist sizes I, I mean I, know are yours and mine.”
Adeo de Shaser had always taught his daughter never to believe what men said.
His prevailing view was that words from a man with a vivid past were especially nonsense—sweet talk for the ears, containing not a shred of sincerity. Raised with early education on the matter, Kaella didn’t believe him.
She didn’t believe, but if these were her last words before death, she would have believed them instantly—Pheon was that flustered, at a complete loss.
It was fascinating to see this man flustered too. Kaella let out a soft chuckle. She laughed because it was novel to see the man who always gazed down at her coolly now floundering because of her.
She smiled just a little. A smile that would vanish if overlooked. Yet Pheon stared at her with wide eyes. Did he think she was mocking him?
“Ah, sorry…….”
Before she could finish, Pheon reached out to her. His hand, having set down the comb, trembled as it lightly touched her cheek. Her body tensed instinctively, but Kaella didn’t pull away. They were already too close for that.
“……Can’t you smile just a little more?”
His voice was heartbreaking as he asked, stroking the corner of her mouth with utmost caution, as if afraid he might hurt her even by accident, his hand shaking.
“Like today—no, I’ll try harder than today, make more effort. So, can’t you smile just a little more comfortably……? Wouldn’t that be all right?”
Why did he ask so cautiously? As if he already knew she’d lost her smile, his question ached. As if he were desperately clinging to her.
Those who had never possessed it sensed changes keenly. That was Kaella. She didn’t know what had changed, but somehow, she now held the upper hand.
The wicked, selfish heart from her past stirred again. Right now, this husband who had abandoned her was desperately hoping she would smile.
She smiled faintly once more.
“If Your Highness makes the effort, of course I’ll do the same.”
And as she answered, when a kiss tainted with an irresistible desire, affection, and longing touched her softly, Kaella’s eyes widened.
Whether her answer was sincere or not, Pheon didn’t care. Even a perfunctory smile would do.
Even a formal reply was enough for him. Even if Kaella just nodded carelessly and said yes, he was ready to submit, rejoice, and be filled with ecstasy.
So Pheon was glad. His heart overflowed and his mind spun at that small smile, leading him to kiss it. The moment Kaella smiled again, it was all over.
‘Ah……?’
Even the wondering question of what this was evaporated cleanly from Kaella’s mind.
The kiss from the man who claimed to know no other woman’s waist size but hers was not particularly skilled.
Raw emotion poured out instead of technique. It was a kiss that struggled to suppress its wild, fierce impulses and move gently, only to lose control for a moment now and then.
But it was definitely much better than last time. This man, who learned quickly on his own, now held and supported her steadily.
Kaella grabbed his arms and pulled him closer. At once, Pheon delved deeper. It was intoxicating. He wanted her that much. Not Beatrice, but Kaella. That alone was enough for Kaella.
“……Duchess, Kaella.”
Beatrice? ……Ah, it’s you.
He was seeing Kaella clearly right now. Not eyes clouded by feverish haze, unable to distinguish who was who, but clear eyes filled solely with her.
She had longed to be the only one filling these eyes forever. She’d longed so desperately that she’d locked away even the longing itself with death, but death hadn’t come yet. Not yet.
“Just a little more…….”
His tense lips trembled as he sought permission.
“……Is it all right?”
Just a little more here. To this man asking for only that much more, Kaella smiled again.
It was so fascinating and amusing that she kept wanting to smile. Seeing him entranced by her smile, losing himself—it was so novel and enjoyable. Ah, was this why Beatrice had tried so hard to captivate men?
Many men had told Kaella her smile was pretty, but this was the first time it felt so surprising, making her want to smile again and again.
“Don’t ask questions like that from now on, Your Highness.”
If she could do what she wanted until death called, then she would. With no future, she wouldn’t miss a moment but burn brightly in enjoyment. Why hold back something so fun and thrilling?
Something she’d wanted so badly she’d stolen it for a night—she could now have it completely. Even ugly, foolish Kaella could have it. Foolish enough to still want the man who had killed her father and would kill her too.
“Will you allow it next time too?”
“Next time—do you dislike it? Would one night be enough for you?”
At her voice laced with laughter, Pheon shook his head urgently.
“It’s not enough.”
A single night couldn’t fill the void and emptiness. His eyes reddened as they finally met the gaze of the only being who could fill him.
“It’s lacking.”
Her uncharacteristically bold provocation hardly qualified as one, but it had an immense effect on Pheon. She sank fully into his arms, tumbling completely onto the bed.
“To end everything in one night when what I have is so vast…….”
His deficiencies, desires, lingering attachments, and even the guilt that couldn’t be called love were all utterly profound.
“And you’re so fragile, Duchess.”
Kaella reached out, draping her slender arm over the neck of the man whose gaze, body, and heart could never turn from her. The moment it hooked over his shoulders, Pheon drew a sharp breath. His firm muscles tensed rigidly.
Hyperion Sivbrand Ferraro was tense. Kaella wanted to smile even wider. He was tense because of her. Everything was unbelievably kind to Kaella. It was a world worth dying in.
“I’m fine.”
She whispered lowly.
“Even if it hurts more, it’s fine.”
She’d experienced it already. Pheon said he knew nothing of women, but she knew men—or rather, she’d already experienced her husband. A night stolen in desperate want, the first sin Kaella had ever committed.
“Kaella.”
She startled at his suddenly lower voice.
“If you’re scared, just tell me to stop.”
“Yes?”
“If it hurts, slap my cheek.”
Pheon brought her hand to his own cheek.
“You mustn’t hurt more.”
Then he pressed his hot lips into her small palm.
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”
Noble ladies were taught that the first night was extremely painful. That enduring pain was a woman’s fate.
If it didn’t hurt, it meant the husband was very experienced with women. Having lived four years of married life already, Kaella believed those words came from experience.
“I’ll hold back until it doesn’t hurt, Kaella.”
He gazed at her as if in worship. Worship? It must be an illusion. Kaella mocked herself.
But what did it matter if it was an illusion? She happily met his gaze. How happy it was to even have such delusions.
“Don’t strain yourself.”
A voice and eyes boiling with desire confessed words she couldn’t hear. Wasn’t this love?
Even if it flashed by in an instant, right now, eyes and touches wholly devoted to her held her tight. A moan escaped lips that were always tightly shut except for necessary words.
To die in such a kind world would be utter bliss.
