CHAPTER 42……
Because he had draped his jacket over Erishy’s shoulders, Rahan’s bare upper body cooled quickly in the early summer sea breeze on the walk home.
Yet, strangely, he didn’t feel cold at all.
From the tips of their joined hands, a warmth seeped into him—astonishingly pleasant. For the first time, Rahan realized his heart could pound this hard.
But there were things weighing on his mind.
Rahan?
Erishy’s voice, calling to him from the grass.
People often compared beautiful or lovable women to princesses—whether or not it was romantic. Even a commoner’s daughter might be called “princess” in her own household.
Rahan, who had only ever known women like Grand Duke Yvette Lacheise and Liette, had never once sympathized with that description. But just moments ago, seeing Erishy, he understood.
She had been the most precious and lovely woman in the world—worthy only of the very best.
And in fact, she was. As the primary heir of House Aachen, she held a rank nearly equal to that of an imperial princess.
So… gods above.
What was he doing?
He might call it “a grassy field,” but it was filthy dirt all the same. And here he was, with a half-undressed Erishy before him. His head had gone cold.
The first time they met, he’d said he didn’t want to take a woman’s first night like some roadside bandit.
And yet—what was he now, undressing a woman who should be treated with utmost care, out in the open?
Of course, it wasn’t solely his own will that had led to this moment. Erishy had wanted him, too.
There were plenty of scoundrels who forced themselves on women and then lied, claiming “she wanted it too.” This was not that. Besides, the world already believed they had spent their wedding night together.
“The marriage won’t last long. The abduction is just for show. It’ll only be for a while.”
That was how Grand Duke Yvette Lacheise had described this marriage she had arranged.
A brief marriage. But if he thought about it, there were plenty of couples who lived together just fine for a short time.
Political marriages were usually meant for life, but sometimes they were arranged with only a short term in mind.
So in their current situation, there was nothing really stopping him.
Then why was he hesitating?
“Erishy! How dare you speak like that! Have you forgotten all propriety just because you married the devil’s child?!”
Father Vera’s words from last night still rang in his ears.
It wasn’t merely the problem of bedding a noble lady in a squalid place when she deserved better treatment.
Something far more fundamental was stopping him cold inside.
“Erishy.”
“Yes?”
At some point, they had reached the little cabin.
The goat bleated as if welcoming them, and Rahan called her name.
She stopped and turned toward him. Her hair was disheveled and wet under the sunlight, her cheeks flushed—her appearance a mess, yet she was as lovely as an early summer fairy.
And so Rahan could not bring himself to ask:
If you found out I was a truly rotten man, would you regret this?
Over her shoulder, he happened to notice a pink axolotl lazily climbing up the wall, yawning. Pure coincidence, but enough to snap his mind fully back to reality.
He narrowed his eyes, then shook his head.
“Never mind. Go in and change.”
“…We could go in together—”
“I’ll start the fire.”
With that, he walked toward the backyard. Erishy didn’t follow. Instead, he heard a faint sigh, then the sound of the door opening and closing.
“Damn it.”
He sat on the chopping block, running his fingers through his damp hair. He knew exactly what emotion was gnawing at him, but facing it was another matter entirely.
So he decided to rationalize it away as simple lust.
That wasn’t hard. After all, it had been less than a month since he’d met this small young lady—whatever he felt couldn’t possibly be anything wholesome.
“I’m not as clueless as you think. Aunt Laura told me everything.”
Her words from before. The sweet cheeks leaning toward him, the soft, full body pressing to his chest, the warm skin flushed pink, the silky fingertips, the breath tangling with his tongue, the heat of bare flesh—
“…Am I insane?”
His nape grew hot. He buried his face in his hands.
This was a marriage destined to end, incomplete from the start. When he came to Baramrock Monastery, he hadn’t thought much of it—but in just a few days, he’d become this swayed by a woman? The unfamiliarity unsettled him.
He raked his hair again and got to his feet, trudging toward the stream. Forget hot springs—he needed cold water over his head.
That was when—
<Want me to help?>
Rahan flinched and looked at his shoulder. At some point, the axolotl had climbed onto him from the cabin. Its beady black eyes narrowed, and its voice—neither wholly boy nor girl, but pure as a child’s—was something only Rahan could hear.
<You said it’s an incomplete marriage. Just make it complete.>
His movement stopped dead.
Far from innocent, this was proof the creature had crawled from the lowest depths of hell. It spoke as though it could see straight into his heart.
A complete marriage.
The thought was dangerously tempting. Just like the day this axolotl had first attached itself to him.
<Eridrahan… think about why He gave humans desire. Even if you pretend otherwise, you’re still His creation.>
“Shut up.”
He snarled the words through clenched teeth, but the axolotl only flicked its tongue, smiling.
<You want her, don’t you?>
A vivid red light swirled in those black eyes.
<How about being honest?>
“I said shut it.”
Not long ago, the axolotl could barely form words; now, though still slow, it could string together disturbingly coherent sentences.
Damn it, Liette!
Rahan cursed the subordinate who had brought this wretched thing here, clueless as she’d been.
But the axolotl kept whispering:
<If she looks good to me, she’ll look good to others. Let go now, and someone else will take her. Look at me—I lost my body to my minions.>
He couldn’t take any more. Rahan yanked the creature off his shoulder and threw it to the ground. It let out a sharp squeak, but he didn’t care.
A filthy monster from the pit had no business speaking of such things.
As he stomped away, the axolotl’s eyes flashed again.
<Fool. You don’t know anything. You’ll regret it.>
Somewhere, it seemed, came the sound of laughter.
Meanwhile, in the capital of the Poldenbach Empire—
Being emperor was a busy job, but it wasn’t the seat of unchallenged power people imagined.
Even with seven prince-electors under him, the emperor had to walk a constant tightrope, calculating which elector would side with him on any given issue.
The current emperor was in a relatively better position—one of the seven was his own daughter. At least she was nominally on his side.
But even that couldn’t be taken for granted. That daughter was fighting his son for the throne. Maddening.
“Your Majesty, please look after the affairs of House Aachen.”
Elio Poldenbach, the emperor’s third son, was kneeling before him.
With his blond hair, blue eyes, tall stature, masculine features, and famously bold, affable manner, he seemed to have all the makings of a ruler—at least at first glance.
He bore no resemblance to Grand Duke Yvette Lacheise whatsoever. And not just in looks—the two had gotten along like cats and dogs since childhood.
When Yvette, the emperor’s second daughter, inherited the Lacheise dukedom and became Yvette Lacheise instead of Yvette Poldenbach, the emperor had asked her opinion of the change. She’d replied, “I’m glad to have one less thing in common with that Elio brat.”
When Elio was born, Grand Duke Lacheise had been sixteen. Exaggerating only slightly, one could say Elio could have been his son.
People had called it heartless when Lacheise had kept the boy at arm’s length as a child.
But now, in hindsight, Yvette’s judgment hadn’t been wrong. More than the deceased first prince, Elio Poldenbach was the one who stood in the way of her seizing the throne.
The emperor responded irritably.
“Why does Duke Herbert Aachen send you to plead for his house, rather than coming himself—especially when the matter is already settled?”
Indeed—Duke Herbert Aachen had only arrived in the imperial capital last night. And only moments ago had he appeared with Prince Elio in tow.
The old duke, looking abashed, bowed his head behind the prince and murmured:
“It is because House Aachen has already troubled Your Majesty too much. I dared not face you myself.”
The emperor found it absurd.
