Chapter 32
Even though she always pretended to be indifferent, they had kissed before. Naturally, when someone sleeps beside you, it’s only normal to feel the urge to touch them.
Gulp. She swallowed nervously as she looked at him.
“It’s hot.”
Perhaps because of the unusually warm weather, he suddenly loosened the cravat around his neck and boldly unbuttoned three buttons on his shirt.
Not one. Not two. But three.
His clearly visible Adam’s apple, the elegant curve of his neckline, and the glimpse of his firm chest—all created such a tantalizing view that her cheeks immediately flushed with heat.
“Y-Yeah, it really is hot.”
As she fanned herself with her hand and tried to subtly move away, the duke reached out first and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“Say it to me too.”
“Say what?”
“That I’m pretty. It’s strange that you could say it so easily to Madame Benoit but not to me.”
Of course, she already knew the duke was dazzlingly handsome, but she hadn’t expected him to demand a compliment so directly.
“Well, my husband is the most handsome.”
“That’s quite delightful to hear.”
“You know you begged for that compliment, right?”
Even though he had asked her to say it, the duke looked deeply satisfied, as if he’d received the highest form of praise.
“Even if I had to beg for it, it still feels good. Let Madame Benoit know in advance about your family visiting.”
“Then is it okay if my sister and brother sleep in my room for just one night?”
She took the chance to push things further, but the duke’s eyes immediately sharpened.
He looked visibly displeased, so Pricia quickly tried to soothe him, metaphorically waving a big carrot in front of him.
“It just feels a little lonely sleeping alone now. Last night, when you weren’t there, it felt even scarier.”
Sure, 90% of this was to appease him, but 10% was genuine.
At first, sharing a bed with someone else felt awkward. But now, waking up alone—without even the warmth beside her—was unsettling.
Just seeing the neatly untouched pillow made it clear he hadn’t even entered the bedroom. Judging by the mountain of papers in his study, he truly had been busy, but the fact that she felt relieved upon realizing that… was unfamiliar to her.
“Of course, you’d hate a drunk wife who whines after getting tipsy.”
“No, it’s my fault for making you feel lonely.”
Unexpectedly, the duke smiled kindly, and their eyes met softly.
His slightly sharp nose, moist eyes, and lips with a faint vanilla scent—it all made her heart beat wildly.
“Close your eyes.”
His gentle whisper felt like a poisonous mushroom.
I really shouldn’t take this. It’s dangerous. So dangerous.
But it was far too beautiful to look away from.
They’d shared kisses several times since their wedding, but today felt different.
“Um, so—”
“When kissing, you’re supposed to face the other person.”
Even the etiquette manual written by Madame Bernard said that, but still—it was incredibly embarrassing.
Before she realized it, she was leaning back, and the Duke of Cromford loomed over her, casting a shadow.
“Is it really okay to invite my family?”
“Of course.”
One demand fulfilled. Time for the next condition.
“I want to visit the Imperial Library. I promised the princess I’d meet her there.”
“We might need to think about that.”
But he gave her no room to protest, showering her with relentless kisses.
Struggling to match his beast-like fervor, Pricia locked eyes with the duke’s trembling blue gaze.
Her messy reflection stared back at her from his metallic blue irises.
She had married him, so she knew this might happen eventually, but now that he was being so forward, her rationality kicked back in.
“We agreed on a one-year grace period, remember?”
“Why should we stick to that?”
“Because!”
No good excuse came to mind, and her poor creativity nearly brought tears to her eyes.
Seeing his clear, unwavering eyes, she scrambled for something.
“I wanted to experience what it feels like to date someone.”
“Date?”
“The ladies at the party were begging me to tell them how we secretly fell in love.”
For an impromptu excuse, it wasn’t bad.
Even after sitting up, she remained perched on his knee as she carefully continued.
“They said they’d fallen for someone of a different status, but because of their family’s opposition, they had to meet in secret.”
“And what does that have to do with us?”
“They’re jealous of us!”
Only after confidently spouting romantic nonsense did she realize the truth.
She had a secret that no one else knew.
She was the one infamous for writing 19+ steamy novels and earning the nickname “Master of R18.”
“No matter what, this is my first time!”
Whether it was being with someone or kissing, it had all just been theory until now.
Unlike the blushing Pricia, the duke didn’t believe it so easily.
“I heard there were talks of marriage between you and the Marquess of Napier’s son?”
“The Marchioness adored me like a daughter! And Matthew helped a lot when I cared for Lily.”
“So you’re like siblings. Nothing more?”
“Of course not! Rose and Lily both know we were never like that.”
Unless one behaved like the Duke of Cromford and bulldozed their way through, being involved in a scandal with the precious son of House Napier would ruin his marriage prospects.
Especially this year—the Marchioness had been desperate to get Matthew married.
She couldn’t be a hindrance.
“So you’re saying… we should keep a bit of distance and enjoy the feeling of dating?”
“You know how it is. Even just holding hands makes my heart race. Anything more intense would be too much.”
She never expected such a nonsensical excuse to work, but surprisingly, the duke accepted it and backed off.
She had genuinely been frightened by how aggressive he was being. Apparently, her reply hadn’t been unpleasant.
“Too intense, huh?”
He seemed pleased, so she swallowed the words rising to her lips.
If you ever truly fall in love with someone, you might regret this.
If he ever decided that the wife he married as a stopgap was no longer useful, it would be easy for him to erase her from existence.
When he was determined to destroy someone, he would stop at nothing.
Wasn’t that kind of burning hatred a form of love in itself?
That was how she once interpreted it…
“Well, I suppose that was stimulating enough.”
He looked at her with eyes full of lingering desire.
No matter how hard she tried to appear calm, this was simply too embarrassing. As she subtly tried to move away, the duke spoke again.
“There are plenty of books in the Cromford library, too.”
“But probably not the one I want to read.”
By law, every book published in the kingdom had to have a copy donated to the Imperial Library. And since it was inside the palace, stealing from there was practically a suicide mission.
That meant the first edition of Lady Margaret was probably there.
Sure, the magic mirror and her relationship with the princess mattered—but more than anything, she desperately wanted to read the original, unedited version of the story.
“What kind of book is it?”
“Oh, you know… just something.”
She couldn’t possibly tell him what Lady Margaret was about.
As she tried to sneak away, she accidentally brushed his left arm, and he winced.
“Ugh!”
“Wait, are you okay?”
“My arm…”
She quickly rolled up his sleeve to find a deep purple bruise.
“I didn’t hit you that hard! I swear I didn’t…”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to use my left arm like this.”
Seeing him in genuine pain, Pricia’s rationality flew out the window.
“At least it’s not your right hand. That one’s for working, so I’ll save it. Until my left arm heals, you’ll be my left arm.”
“You can’t be serious!”
She reacted logically, but the duke just wiggled his fingers and teased her.
“I need somewhere to rest my arm, and your shoulder’s the perfect size.”
He even pointed to a few of Alster’s books on the wall and suggested she sit on his lap while reading.
“Soon, I’ll have a favor to ask of you. Things will get busier, so invite your siblings now.”
This was clearly bait, but between justification and benefit, she naturally chose the latter.
“Well, if you insist…”
That kiss from earlier had really made her happy.
Pricia decided to go along and play dumb.
Still… when would the protagonist show up?
The author’s “villain bias” began with how the protagonist was written. Unlike the duke, who had everything, the protagonist was a tragic boy with a mysterious birth.
Now that he was twelve, he should be summoned to the duke’s mansion soon.
“I plan to assign a bodyguard to you soon. Someone who can go anywhere with you and ensure no one dares to bother you.”
“So as long as I’m with them, I can go anywhere?”
It seemed her duke had already planned everything.
Nodding eagerly, Pricia happily accepted her role as his armrest.
