My Husband Was Definitely a Paladin
Irene felt bewildered.
In her previous life, she might have dismissed his words as the common mindset of a holy priest who believed God always dwelled within her.
But now Michael was staring straight at her.
As if the only thing important to him was her.
That unyielding gaze was enough to make Irene swallow hard.
Words she had never said even once in her past life.
Every time she heard them now, she desperately denied it, convinced she had misunderstood.
Afraid that if she mistook his affection for love, she would suffer again in this life.
But now even this constant worry had grown exhausting.
If the man before her was truly different from the one in her previous life, she wanted to confirm it for certain.
Gathering her courage, Irene asked.
“I… I don’t know how to accept your words.”
A question she could never have voiced before.
After the words left her mouth, Irene regretted them.
What was she thinking? Did she really believe he would interpret her as anything but a purifier who needed help? She had felt nothing but disgust at the thought.
But still…
“Your recent actions have left me confused. There’s no reason you should care for me at all… yet every time you do, I end up thinking I’ve become someone precious to you…”
Irene wiped away the tears that welled up on their own.
She had alternated between shock and delight at his entirely different attitude, then withdrawn.
As if he kept his distance, yet at her most vulnerable moments he reached out as he never had before.
Watching him, the faint desire to gather her strength, break their pair, and leave the fortress faded.
Instead she wondered if it wouldn’t be better to stay close.
The stupidest thing imaginable, yet she had thought it a thousand times.
At the same time, resentment burned in her chest.
Why had he never done this before?
If he could do it now, why had he been so coldly distant?
Irene cried silently, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Michael’s expression darkened. Though Irene wept, it felt as if his heart ached even more.
He hesitated, then raised his hand as if he had made a decision.
Long fingers traced Irene’s face with utmost reverence, as though tending a sacred statue.
“Here… you’ve become dirty.”
He spoke softly, using his thumb to wipe away the trail of tears.
One or two strokes should have sufficed, yet Michael’s hand never left her face.
He stroked the bone beneath her eye, then gently brushed the soft skin beside her cheek. Finally, his fingers pressed against her lips as if that spot alone needed attention.
Not dirty at all.
Irene accepted his touch without question, still.
After a long while of caressing her face, Michael opened his mouth.
“Forgive me for making you troubled. It’s entirely my fault. If I had only spoken sooner…”
His voice brimmed with deep regret.
He parted his lips as if struggling to speak, then closed and opened his eyes.
No more tremble now.
“You are my pair. My spouse, recognized by the Empire’s laws. Is it wrong for me to cherish you?”
As he whispered, Michael pressed his lips to the place his hand had just touched.
Like a diligent student, he explored the spot again from the beginning.
What was Michael doing?
While Irene wondered, he whispered again.
“I know what you’re thinking. But…”
His lips brushed beneath her eye, causing her to close them.
“Don’t doubt. Just believe me for now.”
The lips that had traced long lines across her face finally met the last place his hand had touched.
Not purification. Just a simple kiss.
* * *
Following Michael’s words, Irene decided she would think no more deeply.
She liked Michael. And Michael wanted to be with her right now.
If this was a dream or illusion, it didn’t matter.
Even if someone out there pointed and laughed at the sight, it no longer terrified her after dying once.
Thanks to that thought, Irene caught Michael’s face as he kissed her again and pressed her lips to his first.
Every time she saw a pair who loved each other, she had wondered what it would feel like if she did the same to her own.
Yet she had never dared imagine it, not even in dreams.
Ashamed, she kept her eyes on his reaction without turning away.
If he disliked even a little, she would stop.
Michael froze for a moment, then his eyes fluttered, and his entire face flushed crimson.
Irene couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.
A knight who had slain a terrifying giant monster was now flustered by a feather-light kiss.
It was amusing, so Irene wrapped her arms around his face and kissed him again.
Deeper than before.
The lewd sounds that should have remained trapped inside the fortress now echoed through the dungeon.
Michael, trapped like a small prey in Irene’s hands, accepted her affection without escaping.
As if the love she gave had intoxicated him.
The man who had once stood firm as a mountain swayed, just like a drunkard.
Because of that, Irene, who had leaned completely against him, staggered too.
Especially right by the lakeshore.
Their entangled, swaying bodies crossed over the water together.
Splash!
Cold water splashed up. Irene struggled to her feet, then at last realized where they were and what they were doing.
“Wait, Michael. When I think about it, there are no monsters nearby…”
She tried to stand, but Michael grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
Because of it, Irene tumbled into the water again.
Even though she fell in the water and his body supported her, it didn’t hurt.
Michael pulled her onto himself and said,
“There are no monsters nearby.”
As if he could guarantee that no monster could ever come here.
“The only people here are you and me. So…”
Michael’s lips met Irene’s wet nape.
“Just look at me.”
* * *
Irene began to undress herself. With every piece of wet, clinging fabric that slipped away, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Of course. Michael’s gaze never left her, fixed solely on her without a single glance elsewhere.
As she reached the last remaining undergarment, Irene hesitated and let her hand drop.
At that moment Michael spoke.
“You seem to be struggling, so I’ll help you.”
A perfectly calm voice. Anyone listening would have thought he was offering to help dress her, not undress.
Before Irene could answer, his hand reached the undergarment covering her chest.
His voice stayed calm, but his touch did not.
He peeled it away so urgently it felt as if he might tear it. The moment he did, her full breasts were revealed exactly as they were.
Ashamed, Irene tried to cover her chest with her arms.
But Michael was faster. He caught both of her wrists.
“Here… this seems to need wiping.”
Without hesitation, he asked her to wipe away the sweat before him.