Chapter 37
“Will you let the child hear his father’s voice?”
Alicia lifted her face.
Her violet eyes sparkled like amethysts.
‘I’m carrying your child. I’ll give birth to the best. So give me only the best in return.’
Zeppelin’s taking Alicia into his arms had been, in truth, an impulsive act.
He had met her in a small village on the outskirts.
He’d heard that the painter he was looking for lived there and had gone to confirm it.
When he stepped down from a dazzling carriage that seemed entirely out of place in the village, Alicia—drawing water at the well—dropped her bucket.
Then she simply stared at him.
There was no shyness, no modesty in the way she held his gaze without looking away.
Like other women, Alicia looked at him with a face full of desire, as if she might devour him whole.
And without hesitation, Alicia boldly approached him.
He could even sense an ambition in her—that she was determined to have him, no matter what.
Her audacious attitude felt refreshing to Zeppelin for a brief moment, but it didn’t spark lasting interest.
True, Alicia was far too beautiful to wither away in such a small village, but not to the point of holding his attention.
Besides, he was impatient to finish his errand and return to Rebecca.
A country woman was the last thing on his mind.
But Alicia was persistent.
During his short stay in the village, she came to his lodgings every day.
She even ended up dancing with him at the village festival.
During that tedious journey in search of the painter, Alicia brought him little smiles.
Better than nothing—so he let her linger by his side.
But that was all.
He never brought her back to his mansion, never gave her any promise as a lover.
For Zeppelin, Alicia was nothing more than a brief amusement.
So when Rebecca later brought Alicia into the mansion, it was no wonder he was utterly shocked.
At first he laughed in disbelief, but later, curiosity began to stir.
‘Don’t you find me beautiful?’
Yes—it was mere curiosity.
He wondered what would happen if he gave the heart he had reserved only for Rebecca to another woman.
And so he took Alicia to bed—and she conceived the child he had longed for.
Each time he saw her belly swell, Zeppelin wished that tiny life were instead growing inside Rebecca.
That regret made him resent Alicia all the more.
It felt as though she had stolen the child that should have belonged to Rebecca and him.
And yet, in this moment, Alicia looked pleasing to him.
He even felt the illusion that perhaps he could love a child born from her.
He thought of Rebecca—adorned according to his command, waiting for him.
Only hours ago he had been burning with desire to hold her, but that desire had strangely cooled.
And now, his lust was shifting toward Alicia, who stood pretending to be a saint while carrying his blood.
Was it because Rebecca had refused his kiss that afternoon?
Because of that nagging sense of déjà vu that pricked him?
Or was it simply because he wanted to confirm that Rebecca would indeed wait for him?
Maybe he wanted to see her waiting in regret, weeping all night.
Maybe he wanted to make sure she would never leave him.
How ridiculous.
She was his already—yet even having such thoughts was absurd.
Still, his steps carried him to Alicia.
Seeing Zeppelin approach, Alicia could not hide her overwhelming joy.
‘It’s working… really working.’
Rebecca had gone to Alicia under the pretense of concern—that she had been burned because of her.
Alicia had braced herself, wary of what cutting words Rebecca might say this time.
But after calmly looking her over, Rebecca had said something unexpected:
‘You want what’s mine, don’t you? Then fight harder for it. I welcome rivals.’
‘What…?’
‘Hmm. You tend to over-decorate yourself. It does suit your face, but sometimes you should ease off. Men are always searching for something new.’
‘……’
‘And use what you have that I don’t. What is it? You should know.’
Alicia had dismissed it as nonsense, another trick.
But for some reason, Rebecca’s words lingered in her mind.
And when Alicia learned that Zeppelin would be going to Rebecca’s chambers that night, she decided—just this once—to try following Rebecca’s advice.
And to her astonishment, Zeppelin turned away from Rebecca and came to her instead.
She was elated, though also uneasy, not knowing why Rebecca had taught her such tactics.
“What are you doing, Alicia, not going in?”
But that question was soon forgotten, because Zeppelin called her name in an unusually gentle voice.
It felt dreamlike. Alicia’s eyes glazed over.
Even as the second wife, this dazzling man before her was her husband.
Though time had passed, Zeppelin looked just as he had that day at the well.
He was the prince on the white horse she had dreamed of since she was a girl—the one who would lift her out of the gutter.
Even if he was in truth a beast, it didn’t matter.
A prince was still a prince. And the woman who married a prince became a noble queen.
That was what Alicia wanted.
Not Alicia the country girl, but Alicia the lofty Countess—unreachable, untouchable.
Dreaming of that day, she laughed coquettishly and pulled Zeppelin into her bedroom.
That night, both wives of the Earl of Devonshire got what they wanted.
“It’s just as you said—the Count has gone into Alicia’s room.”
“Really? Good.”
Rebecca listened to Alicia’s cries of joy echoing throughout the mansion.
Using that sound as music, she began to remove the clothes that constricted her body.
She wiped off the makeup smothering her face.
When even the red lipstick was gone, Rebecca burst out laughing.
“Puhahaha.”
How easy it all was.
How foolish these people were.
Unable to hold it in, she laughed louder, clutching her stomach.
She wouldn’t see him for a month.
And by the time he returned, the world he knew would already be crumbling.
At dawn the next day, the servants of the manor bustled about. Two large wagons were loaded with a month’s worth of luggage.
Still sleepy-eyed, Alicia came out to see Zeppelin off.
Rebecca, perfectly adorned as always from head to toe, descended the stairs slowly.
Zeppelin gazed at her with a faint smile.
Her eyes were swollen. Though hidden with makeup, the redness was plain.
He’d heard that she had roused the maids in the night searching for ice.
And that morning, Canna had quietly told him:
‘She wept all night, searching for you, my lord.’
Of course. His sharp instincts weren’t always wrong.
Yet he still had no intention of abandoning his plans.
“Take care while you’re away,” Alicia said, eyes brimming with tears, clutching his hand.
Rebecca too offered a farewell, with a slight furrow in her brow.
Zeppelin looked between his two wives, then signaled to Grace.
“Ah, before I go, there’s something I want to give my wives…”
Clink—
At his signal, Grace fastened something around Rebecca’s and Alicia’s wrists.
Alicia’s face paled when she saw what it was.
“C-count, this, this is…”
Handcuffs.
Made of solid iron, wrapped in soft black velvet, engraved with silver patterns.
The two cuffs were joined by a long silver chain, giving more freedom than usual—but restraints nonetheless.
With a crooked smile, Zeppelin said:
“I was worried something might happen while I’m gone.”
“Are you saying you think we’d try to run away?” Alicia demanded, eyes blazing.
Rebecca said nothing, only looking at him.
No outburst, no obvious distress.
But her eyes glinted coldly, hiding molten fury deep inside.
Perhaps her composure provoked him, for Zeppelin suddenly snatched her hand.
The chains rattled noisily.
“Why are you silent, wife? As though I’ve caught you in the act of plotting escape?”
Ah… his instincts really were damnably sharp.
Rebecca smirked at him, face close.
“Escape? Where would I go, leaving this place? I was only dazed because the cuffs are so beautiful. Think of them as troublesome bracelets—why refuse such a gift?”
Alicia stomped her feet.
“Lady Rebecca! This is insane! How are we supposed to live for over a month in handcuffs? How will we eat, how will we bathe?”
“Why worry? The maids will do everything for us—just as they always have. We won’t have to lift a finger. What greater luxury could there be? Isn’t that so, Zeppelin?”
Rebecca looked at him with a smile so ambiguous it was impossible to tell if she was mocking or sincere.
Before he could decipher her, Alicia burst out:
“My lord, I could endure anything you do to me, but this is too much! I am your wife, not your prisoner!”
“Yap yap—my head aches from your chatter. Has your training already worn off, Alicia? Do you need me to remind you again of your place?”
His icy glare pierced her, so different from the gentle husband who had held her so tenderly last night.
Memories surged, and Alicia fell silent, shoulders trembling violently.
Rebecca watched her shake.
Zeppelin barked impatiently:
“As Rebecca said—the maids will handle everything. What is there to worry about? All you have to do is obey me!”
