A Fraud of a Marriage

Even beneath a guttering candle his smile had shone, but seeing it now in the brilliant morning sun, I could have sworn the sun god himself had descended into the room. I pursed my lips and turned my head away.

"Hmph."

Looking at that face, I couldn't summon any more anger even if I tried. I squirmed where I lay, staring at the wall opposite him, and he drew me firmly back into his arms.

"Are you angry?"

"I'm not."

"Truly?"

"And if I said I was?"

"Then I'd have to soothe you, of course."

The sheer matter-of-factness of it left me speechless. I shot him another glare.

And just how do you plan to soothe my anger?

Meeting my eyes, he pressed a kiss to my forehead, then asked as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Shall we start with breakfast together? Or a bath?"

What kind of outrageous question was that?

"...Were you always this sort of man?"

It was a question I had never imagined hearing from a husband. My mouth fell open.

At this rate I was going to spend the entire day wrapped in the blankets like a chrysalis. From inside the covers I thumped at him.

"Let go. I'm getting up."

Far from releasing me, he nuzzled into the nape of my neck like a puppy and mumbled.

"Stay like this just a little longer."

Honestly, pressed flush against a handsome man, my heart was pounding. It wasn't unpleasant, but I had never imagined we would share a conversation this intimate, and the feeling of having been deceived left a sour taste.

Was he really like this all along? Was that expressionless face, that awkward way of speaking, all a lie?

I glared at the man who kept brushing light kisses through my hair. For someone who enjoyed being touched this much, he had certainly worked hard to hide it all this time.

"You managed to live quietly without a single scandal. Impressive."

At my words Ian lifted his head and met my eyes. Those clear blue eyes, as if a piece of autumn sky had been set into them, narrowed slightly. He pouted as he answered.

"I told you. I'm not some beast who paws at just any woman."

I knew perfectly well that his private life was spotless. Even in the future I remembered, twenty years from now, he had lived alone, without so much as a whisper of romance attached to his name.

Thought of that way, his self-control is extraordinary.

Even people with family to lean on sometimes sink into a terrible loneliness. This man had spent more than twenty years alone, with no family at all.

So why did he give in to me so easily?

No matter how the Emperor shrieked marriage, marriage, he had turned a deaf ear and clung to bachelorhood. Why, then, had he yielded to me so readily?

I don't even think I spoke to him all that prettily.

I frowned at him. As it happened, he seemed to be recalling our first meeting as well. His pretty almond-shaped eyes curved gently.

"Thinking back, you were rather rude to me. And yet I was generous with you. Why do you suppose that was?"

"..."

Those blue eyes seemed to pull me in. I blinked slowly. Countless feelings that had never become words passed between our gazes.

Strange man.

I had seen him only yesterday, and yet in this moment he felt a great deal closer. We had spent a single night together. That was all.

"Hm? Answer me, Olivia."

The voice that spoke my name was sweet as honey, unlike before. If his earlier voice had sent a chill down my spine, now there was a peculiar ease in it. I remembered what he had said last night as he pulled me into his arms.

"A woman who says she has no need of a baby came looking for me of her own accord. And that woman happens to be exactly my type?"

His lenience, from the very first meeting, toward a woman who had been rude. The tenderness he showed me, unlike the way he treated anyone else. Even the gentle way he had held me.

Why hadn't I understood? There was only one reason. I asked, dazed.

"Don't tell me... you liked me?"

"Correct."

As if in praise, his lips touched my cheek. Every time that smooth mouth met my skin, a shiver seemed to bloom. I twisted my head aside to escape him. I was so flustered my eyes blinked in rapid succession.

"Me? Why me? You'd only just met me then."

He reached out and cupped the back of my head, so that I could no longer avoid his mouth. The eyes fixed on me glittered like sapphires.

"At first, it was your face that suited my taste. Your eyes, especially."

My eyes?

That answer was strange all over again. My eyes were the exact opposite color of his. They ran red, like garnet rubies, and though they were large, with a double lid, the outer corners tapered to a slight point — hardly the Empire's usual ideal of beauty.

Watching my face crease in lingering disbelief, he let out a low chuckle. Then, shameless, he said,

"A beautiful woman begging me to marry her, insisting it had to be me and no one else — you have no idea how fast my heart was racing."

"Excuse me. Would you stop saying things that invite misunderstanding?"

I did propose, but it wasn't romantic like that! When did I ever say it had to be him?!

It was an embarrassing piece of my past, but for him it seemed to be an episode that made him smile just to recall it. His face drew close enough that our breaths tangled. The tip of his handsome nose bumped mine. He went on, laughter in his voice.

"After that, I liked the terms you offered. You didn't want a child. You didn't seem likely to meddle in my life. Capable, bold, and without greed — I thought you'd manage a household well."

Wasn't all of that just guesswork? I answered, prim and pouting.

"And what if I'd taken the entire Tyrone ducal fortune and run? You can't judge a person after a single look. That's how disasters happen."

At my blunt reply he nipped lightly at the tip of my nose. The touches that kept coming, one after another like foreplay, sent heat rushing to my face of its own accord. As if to tease me, he whispered at my ear.

"I even liked the way you treated me like a child, though I'm the older one. I'm a little starved for affection, you see."

A jolt.

At those words, the conscience that had kept its mouth shut all this time gave a guilty lurch.

I am the older one. I am...

The truth was meant to stay on the far side of death.

The fingers holding the back of my head, finding I offered no particular resistance, drifted back to toy with my cheek and the corner of my eye.

"The last thing that decided me was the tea. Smoky Earl Grey is my favorite. Watching you drink it, I thought our tastes were similar. We'd get along."

The touch, gentle as if he were handling a jewel, tickled, but I could neither laugh nor look away. Because then he whispered this:

"And I'm terribly lucky. The wife I married on impulse seems to suit me in bed as well."

The fingers that had been lightly teasing me suddenly slipped beneath the blanket. The naked body I had been hiding from him was laid bare from the chest up as the covers slid away.

"Olivia."

The hand traveling up my spine made me shiver. His lips drew near, carrying a meaning that could not be mistaken. I blocked his mouth with both palms.

We did plenty of that last night! That's enough!

"Wait — wait, you! It's broad daylight! And I'm hungry!"

"Oh dear."

He laughed as if caught out. I fumed. It was no joke. I had been worn ragged all night, and yesterday I had eaten no more than a bird's portion so I could fit into the dress. I was ravenous.

I can't give him an opening. There's no telling when it would end!

Now that I had confirmed he was not impotent, I could not let my guard down in this bed. I stared at him, my face burning red. Reading the plea in my eyes, he shrugged and released the hand at my waist.

"That can't be helped. I can't become the sort of husband who starves his wife."

Unlike the way he had come at me, he rose from the bed cleanly and pulled the bell rope beside it. The chime for summoning the servants rang out, ding, ding.

He isn't planning to watch me change, is he?

I tugged the blanket back over myself in a fluster, never relaxing my guard. Seeing me bristling like a fox kit, he let out a soft laugh.

"I'll be back in ten minutes. Let's eat together."

The door opened, and maids poured in pushing a cart laden with wash water, a change of clothes, and towels. My tension proved unnecessary. Ian gave a light wave and stepped out of the room. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.

Whew. At least he doesn't pounce like a beast without warning.

No — did he pounce, or didn't he?

I couldn't even tell what kind of situation this was. The maids bowed politely to me where I sat wrapped in the blankets like a chrysalis.

"This way, Duchess. We will help you dress."

Forget it. What did it matter whether he was a beast or not? At least he hadn't hurt me. If anything, he had pleased me so thoroughly it was almost a torment.

I'll think about it later. For now, food.

That was what I told myself as I climbed down from the bed — and my waist twinged, sharp enough that I staggered. Even then I thought it was only to be expected. It had been my first time.

Perhaps in consideration of my condition, the dress the maid had brought was a comfortable one, with nothing that cinched the body. The maid who dressed me flushed and bowed her head.

"F-forgive me, Duchess. This is the only gown that was prepared... I'm not sure you can go out in it."

"Is there a problem?"

"It might be better if you looked in the mirror."

Her excessive shyness was strange. I tilted my head and looked into the mirror another maid held out to me.

Did he pounce like a beast, or didn't he?

The answer became clear the moment I saw the glass. From the white of my nape down to my collarbones, the marks bloomed red and mottled, as if insects had stung me all over.

The wedding night. And the bruises.

There was no mistaking what those marks were. Before I knew it, I shrieked.

"You left a person in this state and still wanted to do it again?!"

Who was it that called this man impotent? Who had clucked their tongue and said that handsome face was wasted?

And I believed the rumor with all my heart.

No matter how I looked at it, this marriage was a fraud!