Chapter 74
I thought Cayente would be late again today, but when I returned home, this time he was the one waiting for me.
“You came home early.”
“What were you doing that you’re just coming back now?”
“I was late because I went to the Empire to buy some spices I’ll need.”
“Spices?”
“Since you like Duchy food, I thought I’d buy plenty while I was there.”
Cayente stood in the garden wearing casual indoor clothes. His expression was complicated—furrowed brows as if he were smiling, lips curled as if he were annoyed.
“Did I ever say I liked Duchy food?”
“Didn’t you? Last time we went to that restaurant serving Duchy food in the Empire, I remembered it and assumed you liked it.”
“Think about the food you ate here.”
“Ah…”
Recalling the meals at this mansion, they were similar to the ones in the Empire, so there was nothing particularly memorable. It didn’t mean I liked Duchy food any more. Yulia felt a bit deflated, realizing she had wasted effort on this.
I had really considered carefully, down to each type of pepper, to figure out what he might like.
“…Are you that worried about your father?”
“Excuse me?”
“You seem to be crying…?”
My nose was still red, and traces of tears were visible around my eyes from tasting the Duchy’s spicy food, but Cayente misunderstood. He waited for my answer with an expression that was hard to read—was he exasperated or worried?
“Oh, it’s because the food was spicy… I was just trying different Duchy dishes little by little.”
“I see…”
Even with that explanation, Cayente’s expression remained ambiguous—half-relieved, half like he was boiling with anger.
“…Any news from Father?”
Taking advantage of the moment, I asked. Cayente let out a bitter sigh before speaking.
“What exactly are you worried about? Say it.”
“What do you mean, what am I worried about…”
“I mean, are you worried that something might have happened to your father?”
Instead of being annoyed by such a question, Yulia felt hurt by the irritation in Cayente’s tone. Her father had disappeared without a word for almost a week, and yet he was frustrated at her worry.
I should have asked that journalist directly. I held back my curiosity, thinking he’d tell me eventually…but just when it seemed like he had changed slightly, he’d exude that chill again, and it would take forever to hear the old story.
“Isn’t it all worry? How he’s eating, if he has a place to sleep avoiding the night dew, whether he’s too hot in his clothes and got new ones, whether he fell sick because he couldn’t solve even one of these things, whether the other nobles chasing the investments are after him, if he got hurt somewhere, why he hasn’t contacted me… I think of all sorts of possibilities.”
I explained all this in detail, hoping he would understand my feelings, but Cayente wiped all expression from his face and replied in a flat voice.
“Pointless worry.”
“What did you say?”
“No one in good health can fail to handle their basic needs. And if the nobles chasing the investment were after him, don’t you think we’d hear that they’re at least trying to get their money back? And he’s not someone without status, so if he were sick or dead, we’d have received word already, right?”
He was right. And being right made me even angrier. Even if he was a noble without much else, a noble is still a noble. It was obvious he would be suffering in ways he never had before, yet he acted like it was fine as long as he didn’t get sick or die.
“If I disappeared, you’d say the same thing, wouldn’t you?”
I asked, thinking he’d react the same even if I vanished, and he immediately denied it.
“I’d never let you disappear from the start.”
Another display of that incomprehensible possessiveness made me sigh deeply.
“Why? Because I’m supposed to bear your child? If it’s so urgent, why don’t you make a child for a few days instead of leaving it be?”
“Does that sound like a complaint?”
Not a complaint—I just wanted to shout that it was so good to finally sleep comfortably alone—but Cayente’s eyes wavered for a moment, and I had no choice but to swallow hard.
This is the worst. A man saying such mean things yet trembling in his gaze at me makes my heart race.
“Was that why you waited for me until late for dinner?”
“No. What are you talking about? While we’re on the topic, I wish you’d give me some sort of signal if you plan to come to the bedroom. Waiting awake, not knowing when you’ll come, is the worst.”
“That sounds like you waited for me.”
I explained several times that I wasn’t waiting, I just didn’t want to be suddenly woken from sleep to do that, but Cayente wouldn’t listen.
“Let’s do it today. No, let’s do it every day for now.”
“What? How did it come to that? I just asked you to tell me when you’d come…”
How did it come to this? I might end up tormented by Cayente every night.
As expected, no sooner had I finished bathing and sat at the vanity brushing my hair, preparing for bed, than I heard the door click open. Though I protested, seeing Cayente enter the bedroom made me feel as if he had been waiting for that door to open.
I hated sleeping alone at night.
“Ah…!”
Like the first day, Cayente trapped me under his body on the bed, slowly exploring my body with his lips and fingertips. Every time he touched me, my body flared up with heat, and I couldn’t resist the tingling between my thighs. When he shifted slightly between my legs, anticipation made my heart race faster than usual.
Could I really feel good in the arms of a man I didn’t love? I wondered if my body was that sensitive, and whether I would have reacted the same if it had been someone else. Just imagining it with the Marlen Marquis made me shiver, and even Cain, who seemed to understand why women liked such things, would feel stiff imagining such a relationship. Surely not just any man would suffice.
“Brother…”
Once, looking into his eyes had made my heart flutter. That feeling lingered, and as we made love, I finally understood exactly why I liked being in Cayente’s arms.
“Haah…”
From gentle touches to during the act itself, Cayente handled my body with utmost care. Every fingertip that touched me was careful, and I felt as fragile as a crystal glass that could shatter if mishandled.
He occasionally repositioned me so my head wouldn’t hit the bedframe, checked my expression whenever a moan suggested discomfort, and never missed a single reaction of mine. For that moment on the bed, he focused solely on me.
“Ahh…”
Whenever I tried to pull back a little, his hands held me tighter, as if he wanted nothing more than to embrace me completely. His ash-gray eyes, full of heat, seemed to desire me frantically…
The pleasure I could only feel in this act, mixed with the illusion that he might love me, made me cling to him and cry out.
Even a little warmth combined with intensity made me fear I might start loving him again. When I cried, Cayente raised a large hand and wiped my tears.
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”
Even that gentle voice seemed fleeting. Still, I climaxed in his arms. Even a momentary love like this was enough, as long as he looked at me warmly, if only briefly, instead of always pushing me away.
