Chapter 65
After returning to the mansion, Yulia ate dinner, washed with Becky’s help, and was on her way back to the bedroom when she suddenly stopped walking.
“Did you leave something behind in the bath, madam?”
She had nearly forgotten. Two days had been wasted on unexpected events, but marriage meant sharing a bed with Kayente. From the very beginning, he had spoken of children. Now that there was time and at least some peace of mind, it felt wrong to postpone that most important matter any longer.
“Ah… no, it’s fine.”
“The bedroom is this way, madam.”
“Yes.”
The Clouga mansion in the duchy was smaller than Kayente’s house in the Empire. She had thought the main estate would surely be twice as large, but she later learned that the family’s original home had been sold.
That only made Yulia more nervous. What if she cried, or made some kind of sound, and the servants heard through the walls? Of course, even this “smaller” mansion had the servants’ quarters far off on the first floor, so there was little chance of any noise reaching them.
— Why ask about the details? All you need to do is lie still and let Kayente do as he will. Men are always taught properly by their fathers.
Even in this era, the act between a man and woman was shrouded in secrecy. Yulia, therefore, had no real knowledge of how children were conceived. If she’d had a close friend who married earlier, perhaps she could have asked, but she had never been the sort to flaunt new dresses or fuss over appearances, so she lacked such confidantes.
When she finally asked her mother, the baroness merely told her that things would take care of themselves. She knew at least that clothes would be shed, but the thought of facing Kayente bare made her nervous enough to tremble.
“Should I… take the potion ahead of time?”
She almost wished she had drunk a few more glasses of wine at dinner. Reaching into her luggage, she found the emperor’s “gift” that Lucy had secretly packed away. Supposedly it would help her—but it was said to be an aphrodisiac. Yulia hesitated. She didn’t know exactly what effect it would have, only that it would cloud her senses.
“But what if he doesn’t come…?”
That was the problem. If she drank it alone, only to have Kayente fail to visit her room—what then? Among nobles, husband and wife had separate bedrooms. Usually the man visited the wife, and she had no way of knowing whether Kayente would come tonight or not.
“Should I arrange some kind of signal in advance?”
She was afraid of facing the first night with a clear mind, yet she didn’t want to rely on the drug either. Shoving it back into her bag, she sat before the vanity to comb her hair. The comb was one her father had once gifted her, and as she ran it through her hair she thought of him again—whether he was eating properly, whether he was safe, whether he had been harassed by those who had intruded on the wedding day. Was it really alright for her to be worrying about nothing but her wedding night?
Knock, knock.
At that sound from the door, every other thought fled from Yulia’s mind.
“C-come in…”
Something far more urgent had arrived.
The door creaked open, and as Kayente stepped in, Yulia scrambled awkwardly to her feet, her nervousness obvious.
“You’re here?”
She asked needlessly, forcing a faint smile. Kayente moved toward the bed, but Yulia’s eyes darted repeatedly to the door, as if she might bolt. She knew why he had come—there was no avoiding it. Yet instead of approaching, she pressed herself tightly against the wall, watching him warily.
“Are you planning to stand like that all night?”
“Uh… s-should we perhaps… have some wine first?”
“Wine? At this hour?”
Kayente patted the spot beside him. Terrified, Yulia stammered about wine again, clearly desperate for anything to dull her senses. Seeing that they would waste the night in hesitation, Kayente finally rose and came to her.
“W-wait! If not wine, then maybe something else—Brother!”
Before she could snatch her bag, Kayente swept an arm under her legs, hefted her over his shoulder like baggage, and carried her to the bed. Lowering her gently onto the mattress, he looked down at her flushed, burning face.
“L-let’s… take it slowly, alright?”
If she had been in tears over missing family, things might have been different. But her only worry now was sharing a bed with him. With that realization, Kayente discarded his hesitation.
He leaned over her, straddling her legs, and pulled off his shirt. Yulia instinctively raised her hands to cover her eyes, but he caught them and guided them to his bare abdomen. She gave a startled hiccup at the feel of his muscles, then gasped as he lowered her hand further.
“W-what is… what is this?”
Her hand twitched to pull away, but Kayente only chuckled softly.
“You need to grow accustomed, Yulia. If we’re to have children, this will enter you—over and over again.”
“H-how? Th-this goes inside me?”
If he explained too bluntly, she might faint. He too felt the strain of restraint, but he bent instead to kiss her lips and gently caress her. She flinched, but didn’t push him away.
Heat spread everywhere—the kiss, his hand at her breast, the weight of his body pressed against her. When his lips moved down her throat and collarbone, Yulia could not hold back the ragged sounds that escaped her. At some point, her nightgown and undergarments had slipped away, as had the last of his clothes.
“W-wait, where are you—”
“I told you. Inside.”
Though she didn’t understand what was happening, his touch set her body aflame. His kisses deepened, his hands explored her, and her breath came in trembling bursts. She grew more and more fevered, until even shame was drowned in unfamiliar pleasure. At last, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him first.
“Ah!”
She froze when something hot and heavy pressed at her most private place. Compared to earlier, it was impossibly larger, and trying to force its way in. Yulia’s eyes went wide with horror.
That can’t possibly fit!
“N-no… this can’t… it won’t work!”
Her protest turned to a cry as, with heavy pressure, the impossible became reality. Their bodies joined at last.
“Ahh…!”
“Yulia. Breathe.”
He stroked her hair tenderly, waiting until she remembered to exhale. When she did, he kissed her again and began to move slowly.
“It’s… too much…”
Each thrust drove the heat deeper. She tried to pull back, but his hands held her firm. At first she thought it was terrifying, unbearable. But soon the pain softened, transformed into waves of pleasure she had never imagined. Clinging to his chest, she lost track of how long she moaned and gasped, overcome by the strange ecstasy.
That something so frightening could feel this good—she could hardly believe it.
