85

Lady Seymour was racking her brain for a response that would satisfy the young master. Meanwhile, Archie’s face grew even more downtrodden. He buried his face in his hands, mumbling.

“Isn’t it unfair? They leave me to eat alone every day, but now they eat together because Uncle does. I guess I’m just the annoying nephew, not important like a spouse.”

Aisa McFoy, the head of the household, had recently started joining her husband, Norma for breakfast—a change that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the entire estate. The kitchen staff were thrilled, finally feeling a sense of accomplishment after years of serving a lord who had little interest in food.

Lady Seymour, realizing that her initial excuses wouldn’t work on the sharp-witted Archie, gave up on soothing him with simple platitudes.

“The lord and lady have been attending to the duties of the McFoy family, which is why they haven’t been at breakfast. Please don’t take it to heart, young master.”

“Duties?”

Archie furrowed his brow, clearly puzzled by Lady Seymour’s cryptic explanation. She began to sweat, trying to find a way to explain in a way appropriate for his age.

“As the head of the McFoy family and as husband and wife, they have responsibilities to fulfill. Please don’t feel too upset.”

“What kind of responsibilities would they have to do together, and in the morning?”

“It’s not necessarily something that must happen in the morning, but…”

Lady Seymour trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Soon enough, when you begin attending social events, you’ll learn more,” she added, trying to change the subject.

“But that’s so far away!” Archie protested. He was only twelve, and it would be a few more years before he’d make his debut into high society.

Seeing his skepticism, Harry Fallen stepped in to help Lady Seymour.

“It’s not as far as it seems, young master.”

“Really?”

Harry’s brief, measured response seemed to reassure Archie, at least a little. He reluctantly nodded, though the confusion still lingered on his face.

‘So, are they really just busy with some kind of family business in the morning? They’re not leaving me out on purpose?’

Feeling slightly better, Archie resumed his breakfast. Both Lady Seymour and Harry let out quiet sighs of relief as they watched him eat.

Lady Seymour, however, couldn’t help but glance at the two empty chairs with a bit of frustration. She thought of the growing talk throughout the household about Lord Aisa McFoy’s new marriage.

* * *

Before their wedding, Aisa had told Lady Seymour, ‘“This is a political marriage, nothing more. I’ll do what’s necessary, nothing beyond that.”’

Her voice had been firm, her expression resolute.

But now…

‘And yet, despite saying that, they’ve been spending every single night together…’

It had long surpassed the boundaries of mere obligation. While it was certainly a relief that Lord Aisa and Norma weren’t distant, even for the more conservative Lady Seymour, their constant closeness left her unsure whether things had gone a little too far.

* * *

The ceiling trembled.

No, it wasn’t the ceiling—it was my vision, my body.

Before long, my body went limp, and Norma’s weight pressed down on me completely. I could feel both of our hearts racing madly, thudding against each other through our chests.

“Wait, wait, get off me for a second,” I gasped.

I tried to push Norma off, knowing exactly what was about to happen next.

“You’re relentless.”

I muttered, already knowing his response.

As expected, Norma Diazi, ever shameless, showed no signs of stopping. I gave him a look of exasperation as he nestled his cheek against my neck.

With an innocent expression that belied his intent, Norma lifted his head and looked at me as if asking, ‘What should I do?’

‘What should you do!?’

Whenever Norma looked at me like that, I could never resist. Without fail, I’d find myself wrapping my arms around his neck once more, giving in.

Today was no different. Despite my better judgment, I was already embracing him again.

I couldn’t understand myself. How could a person live with such impulsiveness and recklessness? It made no sense.

Once, while entangled with him like this, I’d muttered, ‘Isn’t it a bit abnormal to be doing this every day?’

Norma had responded calmly, ‘It’s perfectly normal for newlyweds.’

‘Really? All newlyweds? That’s a lie! If every newlywed couple were like this, they’d die from exhaustion!’

“Aisa,” he whispered.

Norma called my name softly, nibbling gently on my earlobe. He must have noticed that I had started to think about something else, as he always did.

He was an incredibly perceptive man. With a sigh, he whispered in my ear,

“Hah, this time, it really is the last.”

Was he really planning to continue even further?

I instinctively tightened my arms around his neck, resigned to what was about to happen. Half-opening my eyes, I noticed the ceiling still swaying, and dim light filtering through the curtains as the dawn approached.

‘Damn, I’ve wasted the whole morning again.’

I wasn’t sure how many times we’d stayed up like this, but it certainly wasn’t a rare occurrence.

It wasn’t the lack of sleep that bothered me the most—it was the fact that I would lose the entire morning.

At least now, my body had somewhat adapted. In the beginning, I would wake up only by evening, feeling entirely drained. The guilt of wasting an entire day like that…

And yet, why did I continue?

‘Because I enjoy it, of course.’

I gave up on thinking, letting myself get lost in the sensations Norma provided.

He was extraordinary, in more ways than one. My husband was exceptional in everything he did, and whatever he set his mind to, he mastered quickly.

The reason I couldn’t stop, night after night, was simple: it was addictive.

Of course, indulging in this every night was clearly taking a toll on my body. As someone who wasn’t particularly robust, I struggled to keep up with Norma’s remarkable stamina, which came from his days as a Holy Knight.

On the more intense nights, I often found myself blacking out from sheer exhaustion, feeling as though I were addicted to something far worse than any drug.

Just then, Norma wrapped his arms around me tightly and abruptly lifted his upper body. Taken by surprise, I instinctively clung to his shoulders.

Clinging to each other, I could feel the tension in his muscles, his body reacting uncontrollably.

“Aisa, I really…”

Norma wrapped one arm around my waist and the other around the back of my head, whispering in a breathless voice. But I couldn’t answer him, as I was biting down on his shoulder like it was my lifeline.

“…Again.”

‘Ah.’

That word. He had whispered it countless times that night alone, and every time, it sent shivers through my entire body. Unable to bear it, I squeezed my eyes shut and bit down harder on his shoulder.

Moments later, I felt my strength drain from me, and my vision began to blur. From experience, I knew I was about to pass out again. The sensation of his hands gently caressing my back and waist was the last thing I felt before, unsurprisingly, I blacked out.

It was truly embarrassing.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, I hesitated to ask what time it was. Especially when I woke after seeing the sunrise, I always dreaded the answer.

“Don’t worry. It’s not yet noon.”

That’s when I heard Norma’s voice. As if waiting for me to wake, he immediately showered my face with kisses.

I awkwardly tried to dodge his overenthusiastic greeting as I attempted to sit up. His words, though meant to be reassuring, only confirmed that it was nearly noon.

As I struggled to lift myself, Norma quickly supported my waist with his hand.

But despite his gentlemanly behavior now, I remembered all too well how beastly he had been the night before. Squinting at him, I gave him a sidelong glare as he proudly displayed his usual impeccable manners.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I muttered.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

He replied with a satisfied smile, as if my irritation was amusing to him.

I wasn’t lying about not being in pain. Of course not—Norma had used his holy power to heal me while I was knocked out, just like he did every time.

That wasn’t all. He also bathed me, freshened the sheets, and moved me to a different bedroom, making sure everything was immaculate by the time I woke up. It had become part of my daily morning routine as the lady of the McFoy household.

Truly, he was remarkable in every way.

But for me, all his care only added to my embarrassment. I had told him many times that he didn’t need to go to such lengths. Yet, with a bright and sincere face, he insisted that it was necessary.

And thus began his diligent attentiveness, making our nightly fiery encounters all the more possible.

As I pondered whether this was a blessing or a curse, I glanced at him again, only to notice his shoulder. His loosely worn robe revealed the smooth skin of his shoulder—now littered with bite marks. Some bruises were beginning to form, and a few spots had even bled. It looked like he’d been attacked by a small but ferocious animal during the night.

‘That sly man… He’s showing it on purpose, just to tease me.’

Lately, Norma had been openly enjoying teasing me, and I found it absolutely audacious.

I tried my hardest to act nonchalant.

But, of course, the mischievous man had already noticed everything. His eyes curved with amusement, clearly pleased with my reaction. Given how elated he looked, I didn’t need to see my face to know it was probably bright red.

At first, it had genuinely hurt. The shameless Norma had pushed me to my limits, and in retaliation, I had mercilessly sunk my teeth into his shoulder. It wasn’t just out of pain—I wanted him to feel what I felt, to suffer just as much.

Norma had even told me, ‘If it hurts, bite me.’

So I didn’t hold back. Every time the pain became unbearable, I’d bite down as hard as I could on his shoulder.

But now it had become a habit.

Norma’s shoulders hadn’t had a day of rest since our wedding night, always bearing the marks of my teeth before they could heal completely.

Of course, Norma had the ability to heal himself with his holy power. But, to my dismay, he deliberately left the wounds untouched, taking pleasure in my startled reactions whenever I caught sight of them.

‘Damn it.’

Unable to bear the embarrassment any longer, I turned my head away in defeat.