FTP-91

“Thank you for the invitation today. Please come over to our house again sometime.”

 

“It’s me who should be thanking you for coming all this way.”

 

Aiden bid Mary farewell and went back to the living room after grabbing a water bottle and a cup from the dining room. Anje, who had been slumped over the table without moving, let out a faint groan.

 

“I should… see her off too…”

 

He rubbed her back gently with his palm.

 

“I’ve sent Miss Mary off safely. More importantly, how are you feeling? If you feel like you might throw up, let me know, and I’ll take you to the bathroom.”

 

“…It’s not that bad. Just… some water, please…”

 

As if he’d been waiting for that, he brought the cup to her lips. She, who had never shown signs of being drunk before, had inexplicably overdrunk today.

 

‘She must have been excited to see Mary after such a long time.’

 

It had been quite a while since either of them visited the town or someone else’s home.

 

Part of the reason was that they were too busy focusing on each other at the farm, where they didn’t need to worry about others’ gazes. But another part was Aiden’s subtle encouragement to stay secluded.

 

As his relationship with her deepened, so did his fear of her suddenly leaving him. If possible, he wanted to keep her bound to this place—this home at Dilton Farm—forever, so she would never leave.

 

He thought it was pathetic of himself, but it was a feeling he simply couldn’t control.

 

‘I should invite people over more often.’

 

With a twinge of guilt, he wiped the water off Anje’s lips.

 

“It’s late. You should wash up and head to bed.”

 

“Ugh…”

 

Although drinking water had slightly cleared her head, she still felt too lethargic to move. She groaned, sprawling like a limp seaweed again.

 

He picked her up with ease and carried her upstairs.

 

“Alright, give me your hand.”

 

“…”

 

“And your legs too. There we go.”

 

He tended to Anje as naturally as if he had always done so.

 

He removed her socks and dress, leaving only her chemise, brushed her disheveled hair, and eventually brought a basin to wash her face and hands while seating her on his lap.

 

His seamless work, as skillful as that of a duchess’s maid, irritated Anje for no reason, so she tugged on his hair.

 

“Why are you so good at this?”

 

As if he had tended to women many times before.

 

Ah, could the reason he didn’t lose his composure at her chemise-clad appearance be because he’d already seen plenty before? A mix of jealousy and anger swirled within her.

 

Aiden blinked at her in confusion before pressing a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

 

“Well, that’s because I used to do these things back at the Imperial Palace.”

 

Though it sounded fancy to call him an aide, the reality was that there wasn’t much he could do to assist the late emperor, given his lack of knowledge in politics or court etiquette. Most of his duties were menial tasks that were more suited for attendants.

 

Anje felt embarrassed for sulking over such trivial matters and began stroking his scalp gently, as if to soothe him.

 

“Really? I wonder what it would’ve been like if I had met you back then.”

 

“Who knows.”

 

To hide his bitter smile, he kissed the nape of her neck this time.

 

Even if they had met back then, she probably wouldn’t have noticed him at all. At best, he would have been one of the many lowly servants, or at worst, an illegitimate child despised by the Crown Prince.

 

His objective status at the Imperial Palace was just that—a parasite who didn’t belong but was barely tolerated by the late emperor.

 

Even if she hadn’t cared about him, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off her. Despite his disdain for the fact that she was Philip’s fiancée, he would have been unable to look away from her radiance. He probably would have gotten into trouble with Philip for being presumptuous and beaten up.

 

As if to counter his grim thoughts, Anje began mumbling her own.

 

“It might sound ridiculous, but… if I had met you back then… I think I still would have fallen for you.”

 

Without lifting his head, Aiden let out a soft chuckle.

 

“Really? Am I that good-looking?”

 

“Of course. I probably would’ve told you to run away with me, not caring about Philip or my father.”

 

Anje knew well what kind of person she was in the past. But at the same time, she wanted to believe in the existence of fate.

 

A fate that had brought her and Aiden together.

 

“Truly? Even though Crown Prince Philip was just as handsome as me?”

 

He ventured to ask, summoning his courage. He had always been curious. What did she think of her former fiancé? Was there even a slight affection for him?

 

…Did she miss him sometimes?

 

“Hmm, his appearance wasn’t bad, but his personality was awful.”

 

She dug into her memories of Philip for the first time in a long while. At first, she was simply pleased with the engagement, as he was the match her father desired and the wealthiest, most prestigious man in the empire.

 

However, no matter how many times they met, she couldn’t form an emotional connection with him.

 

He barely paid attention to her stories and was instead preoccupied with talking about himself—mostly bragging. Anje tolerated it, thinking it was natural since it was a political marriage devoid of romantic feelings.

 

“Still, didn’t he love you?”

 

In Aiden’s mind, it was impossible to imagine a man who wouldn’t love Anje after seeing her.

 

“Not at all. He was so self-absorbed that he didn’t even see me properly.”

 

On top of that, he was addicted to alcohol, gambling, cigars, and mistresses. In that sense, he was the perfect son-in-law for Duke Glasster.

 

“He wasn’t a good person like you, Aiden.”

 

“A good person, huh…”

 

The words tickled his conscience. If only she knew how strong his possessiveness was—how deeply it writhed in his chest—she wouldn’t gaze at him with such blind trust.

 

If he were to confess that he felt jealous even of people like Miss Mary, who enjoyed chatting with her, or Mrs. Meg, who frequently visited to learn writing from her…

 

Aiden’s lips, which had been teasing the area near the nape of her neck where fine hairs grew, slowly began to move forward.

 

“Thank you, at least for saying so, Princess Anje.”

 

“Ah, it’s not just words, it’s really… Wait… I must smell like alcohol.”

 

Her soft protests were futile; her reddened lips tasted as sweet as always. He indulged to his heart’s content before whispering in her ear,

 

“I drank with you, remember?”

 

“…You should’ve told me earlier. I was so conscious of it that I couldn’t even focus.”

 

“Judging by how much you seemed to enjoy it, I’d say you didn’t mind too much.”

 

“I don’t know, you idiot.”

 

Whether out of embarrassment or frustration, her earlobes flushed red. He didn’t miss the opportunity to savor the ripened warmth of her ear.

 

He had grown accustomed to her body trembling in response to his touches. At first, he worried he might have frightened or hurt her, so he would stop and anxiously study her expression each time she shivered.

 

“I told you, it’s fine!”

 

It wasn’t until Anje shut her eyes tight and snapped irritably that he began to ease up. Or rather, he learned to observe her reactions without being obvious about it.

 

At some point—she wasn’t sure when—they ended up lying on the bed.

 

Aiden’s fingers combed through her hair, stroked her cheeks and chin, and ventured further down.

 

“Anje.”

 

He called her name as he caressed her. She let out a sweet sound, as if she were melting under his touch.

 

She loved the sensations Aiden evoked. At first, they were unfamiliar and awkward, but as she grew used to them, she found herself longing for them more and more.

 

It was like the first sip of champagne—exciting, sparkling, and impossible to forget.

 

“Haa…”

 

Her breathing grew shallow, her flushed cheeks warm as she looked up at Aiden, who gazed down at her. His face was lit with a radiant smile as he stared intently at her.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“Because you’re so beautiful.”

 

The intensity of his gaze was so overwhelming, it felt as though it could burn her if it turned into heat.

 

Wondering what might happen next, Anje’s cheeks grew even redder as her imagination wandered. But contrary to her expectations, he planted a kiss on the bridge of her nose and lay down beside her.

 

“You’ve had some alcohol, so you must be tired. Time to sleep.”

 

He offered her his arm as a pillow, patting her gently as though he were a nanny putting her to bed.

 

The anticipation that had filled her heart dissipated, replaced by disappointment. She also felt embarrassed and self-conscious.

 

‘Was I the only one thinking about such things?’

 

She turned away, adjusting her disheveled chemise by herself.

 

“I’ll help you with that.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

TL/N: LOL, YOUR WIFEY IS MAD

 

It had always been his task to help her fix her chemise after their intimate moments. Though a small gesture, being denied this made him feel as though he’d been robbed of something he could do for her.

 

“Anje.”

 

The sound of rustling fabric filled the air, but no response came. His voice carried a hint of unease.

 

“Did I do something wrong?”

 

“I said, it’s fine.”

 

This time, Anje burrowed completely under the blanket.

 

“Anje, Anje.”

 

Ignoring him, she continued cocooning herself deeper into the blanket. Now wrapped like a silkworm in its cocoon, she mumbled,

 

“Anje isn’t here.”

 

“Come back out.”

 

“She’s not here, I said.”

 

Reaching out to the cocoon, Aiden slid his hand into a gap, speaking in a worried tone.

 

“Will you really not tell me? When you’re upset without saying anything, it makes me worry.”

 

A heavy sigh escaped from within the cocoon.

 

“It’s just embarrassing.”

 

“Embarrassing? What part?”

 

Instead of answering, she mulled over her thoughts, biting them back.

 

Why didn’t he do “more” with her?

 

Though she’d grown up as a noblewoman, only hearing whispered rumors in passing, she at least knew that to be fully recognized as husband and wife, more intimate acts were required.

 

‘Am I not attractive enough?’

 

Her overthinking led her to all sorts of conclusions.

 

Was she not assertive enough? Should she have taken more initiative?

 

He hugged her tightly, cocoon and all.

 

“Anje, I don’t know exactly what’s bothering you, but… wouldn’t it be better to talk about it instead of keeping it to yourself? We’re married, after all.”

 

Though it was hypocritical, considering how he kept his own dark thoughts hidden, his words seemed to work. Anje wriggled, poking her head out of the blanket.

 

“…I just feel embarrassed because of my expectations.”

 

“What expectations?”

 

“…”

 

After a long silence, Anje finally whispered,

 

“Well… something like the wedding night… or, you know.”

 

She had never seen Aiden’s eyes widen so much.

 

Ah, she regretted saying it already.

 

* * * *

 

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