Additional Side Story 1: A Certain Season (1)

Tok. Tok-tok.

The sound of something tapping against the window reached Lucia’s ears.

Sitting at her desk, flipping through a pile of documents, she turned her gaze toward the window.

‘Snow?’

Autumn’s dry chill had long passed, and the early days of winter had settled in.

Though it wasn’t yet the heart of winter, the sight of falling snow drew Lucia’s eyes toward the sky, blanketed with heavy clouds.

‘Looks like the first snow is about to fall.’

She shifted her attention back to her work.

Snow arriving this early was curious but not entirely unusual.

Winter was winter, after all.

“Lucia.”

Knock, knock.

A knock on the door preceded Owen’s voice as he entered the study.

“There’s quite a bit of snow coming down. I think we’ll need to adjust today’s plans.”

He approached her desk with soft, deliberate steps. Lucia set down her pen and the document she was holding.

She stared at Owen for a moment.

She remembered their plan to ride the carriage to the park later that afternoon. With the snow now falling heavily, that plan would surely be canceled.

Suppressing her disappointment, Lucia reached out and naturally grabbed Owen’s arm, pulling him closer.

With a gentle but firm tug, she drew him toward her, rising from her chair and nudging him back against the desk.

Placing her hands on either side of him, she leaned in.

Though her actions made it seem like she was pinning him, her smaller frame made the scene appear more like she was leaning into his embrace.

“…Lucia?”

Owen blinked in mild surprise at the unexpected turn of events, looking up at her.

“Yes?”

Lucia responded calmly.

“Looks like we won’t be able to go to the park today—”

Owen’s thoughts trailed off as he realized what was happening.

‘So, this is what she’s in the mood for today,’ he mused, letting her continue.

Lucia cut him off mid-sentence by pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

What started as a brief peck didn’t end there.

This time, she didn’t pull away so easily.

Her lips caught his lower lip, nibbling gently as she sought his breath.

Thunk.

The sound of Owen’s body hitting the desk echoed in the room.

Fortunately, the desk was large enough to accommodate his tall frame, but the awkward position made it hard to sustain the kiss for long.

When their lips finally parted, Lucia straightened and glanced around the room.

While it had been satisfying to push him down, the location wasn’t ideal.

Owen, noticing her gaze, surmised her intentions. She was clearly thinking of substituting their canceled walk with something else.

He propped himself up slightly, still half-reclining against the desk.

Watching her deliberating expression, he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her forehead before whispering in her ear.

“Should we move to the bedroom?”

At his suggestion, Lucia nodded.

Apparently, there wasn’t an ideal spot in the study for what she had in mind.

The room, while spacious, wasn’t suited for someone of Owen’s height and build to fully stretch out.

“Have you finished today’s work?” she asked as she grabbed his wrist, intending to lead him out.

But as if suddenly remembering her own workload, she hesitated, glancing back at him with a tinge of uncertainty.

Owen chuckled softly and nodded.

“I don’t leave things for the last minute, so don’t worry.”

Reassured by his answer, Lucia regained her confidence, taking his hand firmly and leading him toward the bedroom.

As they walked through the hallway, they occasionally passed the estate’s staff, but neither seemed particularly concerned.

The staff, too, were hardly surprised to see the couple heading toward their bedroom in the middle of the day.

Such occurrences had become quite common in the Verdun household.

Some days, it was Owen who initiated a kiss that led them to relocate, and on others, it was Lucia who would try to push him down wherever they were.

Still, the couple never neglected their responsibilities, so the staff had no reason to complain.

Occasionally, though, curiosity arose among the servants.

Despite being married for three years, why did the couple have no children?

The same questions had begun to surface in society.

Gossip ranged from one of them having fertility issues to rumors that their affectionate displays were merely a façade.

The most outlandish rumors claimed, “Owen no longer loves Lucia,” or, “Lucia has grown tired of Owen.”

These rumors, however, were more entertaining than believable.

The truth was, most of society subscribed to simpler explanations: perhaps there was a medical reason, or perhaps they simply weren’t ready yet.

The idea that the two didn’t love each other anymore was widely dismissed as absurd.

After all, their public appearances left no doubt about the depth of their affection.

Whether it was taking extended holidays together or their intimate moments at social events, Owen and Lucia consistently displayed the image of an inseparably close couple.

For the couple themselves, the rumors were of little consequence.

Had they cared, they would have silenced the gossip long ago.

“Owen.”

As they reached the bedroom, Lucia spoke softly.

Opening the door, she stepped aside to let Owen enter first. Following him in, she closed the door quietly behind her, turning to look up at him.

Rumors were the least of her concerns.

From the moment she was born, Lucia had lived her life surrounded by whispers.

But this—this was different.

“Shouldn’t we stop the contraceptives?”

Her words were calm, but they carried a weight that shifted the mood entirely.

From the very first night they spent together, Lucia had consistently taken contraceptives, ensuring that no children were conceived between them.

Even during moments of spontaneity, Owen naturally took precautions, and Lucia never stopped him.

They were young, with plenty of time ahead of them. Their mutual desire to savor their lives as a couple for as long as possible outweighed the urgency to have children.

Though the expectations of imperial nobility meant there would inevitably be pressure to produce an heir, that was a concern for the future, not the present.

But now, three years had passed.

The time spent with Owen had always been joyful and fulfilling, so much so that she never felt the need for someone else in her life.

Lucia had Owen, Marie, Bella, and Emily by her side. That circle, along with Kyle on occasion, was more than enough to bring her satisfaction. To Lucia, Owen alone was family, and that was enough.

She had never been particularly fixated on having children.

However, she understood all too well how deeply noble society valued direct heirs.

In particular, both the Verdun and Edelte houses possessed unique traits of lineage.

A child born with black hair and eyes would signify a true heir, and even if not fully black, at least some traits had to reflect their bloodline.

“Pregnancy isn’t something that happens instantly. Even if I do conceive, there’s no guarantee the child will meet those expectations.”

Her voice was calm, her statement a stark acknowledgment of reality.

The likelihood of success with the first child was slim.

As she spoke, Owen’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. After hesitating for a long moment, he finally parted his lips to speak.

“…I don’t want you to carry that burden, but as long as I’m a Verdun, it’s unavoidable.”

His days as Jung Woo-hyun felt like a distant past, fading further with each passing year. Owen’s current life as a duke now felt far more real.

Yet, there were still aspects of this life that unsettled him—namely, the aristocratic values and their rigid traditions.

The obsession with lineage and the expectation that any failure to produce a proper heir would fall solely on the wife was a notion he could never understand.

‘It’s not as if a child is born from just one parent…’

Owen frowned inwardly, sighing to himself.

Once, he had thought it would be wonderful if their child resembled Lucia. But he knew that might not be ideal for her.

If their child inherited her appearance but lacked the Verdun traits of black hair and eyes, it would inevitably bring challenges.

For her sake, those traits needed to be inherited from him.

“Alright.”

With a quiet sigh, Owen placed the contraceptives he had picked up back down.

He walked toward the bed, shrugging off his jacket and setting it neatly to the side.

As he began untying his tie, Lucia strode over and grabbed his hands.

“You’re undoing it yourself? I wanted to do that.”

Her voice carried a trace of disappointment, causing Owen to pause.

A twinge of anticipation ran through him as he realized what was coming next.

Not that he minded—he loved everything about Lucia, from her thoughts to her actions.

Yet each moment with her felt as fresh and thrilling as the first, making him respond instinctively at times—averting his gaze or lowering it, for instance.

“…Owen.”

Her warm fingertips wrapped around his wrist, heat trailing up his arm until it reached his face.

When her hands touched his cheeks, Owen’s long lashes quivered slightly. The delicate flutter carried the awkward sweetness of a bashful boy.

Lucia cherished moments like these.

While she had grown accustomed to being with him, these fleeting glimpses of his initial shyness made her feel as though she still held the entirety of his heart in her grasp.

Smiling, she reached out and gently played with the hem of his shirt.

Outside, snow continued to fall, the white flakes a stark contrast to the warmth of the room.

Unlike the cold beyond the windows, the room was heated comfortably by a magically enhanced fireplace.

Perhaps it was the mood, but the warmth almost felt stifling.

As Owen avoided her gaze, Lucia cupped his face, guiding his eyes back to hers.

“Don’t look away from me,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for defiance.

 

 

 

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