I Healed my Husband, the Leader of the Underworld

I took a step towards Siegfried, looking straight at him, and everyone here held their breath, scrutinizing my every move.

It felt familiar.

Milena Roam was notorious as Rochester before her marriage and also after her marriage.

Every day felt like walking on thin ice.

Their gazes read, judged, and evaluated every action I took, and under those eyes, Milena had been crushed her whole life.

Nevertheless, one should never reveal their circumstances. Whether it the animal kingdom, the human world, or even during a simple poker game, the most basic rule is to never expose an unsightly hand.

Bluff.

Always.

Siegfried’s gaze never left me.

When we got close enough that I could even feel his breath on my skin, I couldn’t see anything else but him.

Yet, he was notably tense.

The quivering of his Adam’s apple, his slightly accelerated breath, and the sharpness of his gaze were obvious clues.

“Where are you going?” he lowered his head to ask.

In response, I leaned in spontaneously, resting my head on his chest, and for the first time, his body noticeably stiffened.

Low rumblings emerged all around us.

Well, I couldn’t blame them. Even I thought I was insane.

Instead of running away from the jaw of the beast trying to trap me, I turned around and threw myself into it.

Siegfried looked down at me, a faint smile playing on his lips. As our eyes met, he gently lifted my chin with a finger, making me look into those blue eyes that always scared me.

Then, he slowly lowered his eyelids, tilting his head to whisper to me in a low, and sultry voice.

“Should we kiss?” he asked, leaving everyone at the party behind his back.

If our lips were to touch and our tongues were to mingle, it would be our little secret.

Then, bowing his head even closer as if urging me to immerse myself further into the intriguing depths of desire, he murmured, “You can’t do anything else, can you?”

I couldn’t resist the alluring heat in his voice. Is this what being fascinated felt like?

It’s a sensation too otherworldly to be felt by humans.

In this moment, he seemed like a transcendent being, someone I couldn’t think of as a mere human.

“No. Can you?” I replied and his lips draw a wickedly perfect curve.

“Tell me, Milena.”

Capturing my gaze that couldn’t escape his two eyes, he opened his nearly perfect lips, allowing a voice akin to the low growl of a beast to seep into my ear.

“Is that bastard here?”

But instead of answering, I instinctively  kissed his approaching lips.

And as I did, he crashed my body onto his, tugging at my waist as if he had been waiting, consuming my tender flesh.

Whether it was because he kissed me so strongly, or because of the spicy wine I could taste on his lips, my mind became hazy.

My hand, gripping onto his jacket as if it were a lifeline, trembled uncontrollably.

I was suffocating.

As I leaned against him, barely breathing, he gently scolded me.

“I’m your husband.”

“…….”

“I don’t mind if you forget.” He continued, his tone relaxed and soft. “You are Roam’s mistress, so whatever you do, I will cover the cost.”

Then, as if to reassure me, he planted a tender kiss on my forehead.

“But know this.”

His lips, resting on my forehead, naturally found their way to my ear.

“If you can’t remember the most important thing.”

The voice resonating in my ear grew even deeper.

“Then, that bastard who’ll die because you love him so much will remember it for you.”

“How much more tolerance do you expect from me? Even gods would be jealous and reluctant to share their believers,” Siegfried asked, immediately reacting to my frozen expression.

After finishing his statement, he softly kissed my lips again. This time, it was gentle. Much gentler than before.

As his lips parted from mine and his arms fell from my waist, I cautiously brushed his lips with my thumb.

Our gazes locked.

And my finger trembled as it swept over his skin.

“Uh….” I struggled to speak. “It’s smeared… I’m sorry.”

The man chuckled at my words, a sly smile painted on his face.

“Good.”

“…….”

“Whether that bastard is here or not, it’s a good thing for me.” (Meaning if the guy isn’t there, she won’t have the opportunity to meet with him, but if he did come to the ball, then he must have seen them act like rabbits in heat in front of everyone. Either way, Siegfried won.)

Then, Siegfried nonchalantly wiped his lips with his sleeves before turning away.

As he disappeared into the crowd, I stood there for a while, finally able to breath normally again.

Even as I walked up the stairs to fix my makeup, the vivid redness of my lipstick imprinted like bloodstain on his jacket sleeve, lingered in my mind.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” A man whistled softly, gazing down at the lower floor.

His suit looked like a ready-made item hastily put together to fit the dress-code here, and even if it wasn’t, he looked rather plain overall.

“What is it?”

However, the man standing next to him was a bit different.

His red eyes, scanning the ballroom through his messy short hair, were sharp.

And despite having an overall soft impression, his body exuded confidence.

While the white sleeve peeking out from his jacket, tinged with charcoal, indicated that he wasn’t just an ordinary painter but rather an eccentric one.

Not bothering to dress up even for a ball like this one, he seemed solely focused on his art.

And the black sketchbook and charcoal in his hands were proof enough of that fact.

“It’s those women. I was wondering if I’ll get to see upper-class women so closely in my life ever again,” Benjamin explained.

At that remark, Ershayne Roger snorted and flipped through his sketchbook.

Then the man next to him playfully poked his side and said,

“Aren’t you going to take advantage of this opportunity? If it were me, I would’ve seduced at least one lonely lady with that handsome face of yours. You were invited to this prestigious place and all you are doing is incessantly flip through the pages of your sketchbook and play with charcoal .

“I don’t know,” Ershayne shrugged as he gazed down at the party hall with shining eye, smirked, then looked back at the blank drawing paper in his hands.

“If I was that good-looking, it would be my face, not my talent, doing all the hard work.”

As he said those words, his profile looked remarkably handsome.

From his straight forehead to his sharp nose and soft jawline; there was a graceful flow.

When he didn’t get a response from Benjamin, Ershayne’s lips curved softly before he added,

“Of course, it’s s still a big opportunity.”

As his hand moved swiftly, sharp lines began to appear on the sketchbook placed on the railing.

The man’s eyes were filled with excitement.

“I’ll put it on canvas one day.”

His gaze mesmerizingly captured the scene below. It was the eyes of an artist who could seize the essence of a place exactly as it was.

“Roam’s beautiful scenery.”

“You must be out of your mind,” Benjamin  said next to him.

“This place is filled with light and inspiration. It’s literally more than one could imagine,” Ershayne exclaimed before continuing to move his hand for a while, but he suddenly stopped to glare at the sleeve of his jacket.

Then, Benjamin had to take over the sketchbook, and then the jacket after he had taken it off.

“Thank you.” Ershayne said as he immediately reclaimed the sketchbook from Benjamin’s hand.

And Benjamin sighed heavily as he shook his head in response.

Even though he was drawing with an old and worn-out shirt carelessly tucked in, the young man looked stunningly beautiful.

Unmindful of his surroundings, he nonchalantly pulled out a hairband from the jacket pocket and loosely tied his flowing short hair into a ponytail.

A few stray strands of wavy hair escaped, covering the delicate side of his face.

“Are you seriously grim to draw here?”

It was clear that Ershayne had no intention to entered the nobles present with his circumstances of having no sponsors.

Benjamin, who had tagged along hoping to have some fun when his friend mentioned this ball, found his expectations crushed.

If Ershayne was going to be like this, then he shouldn’t have brought a +1.

Meanwhile, unaware of his friend’s impatience, Ershayne confidently pressed on the long piece of charcoal with his thumb, moving his hand with precision.

Closing one eye, he sketched the beautiful place he would later paint on the canvas.

“Of course,” he replied, his lips curling up with a smile. “If you have the most beautiful thing in front of you but your heart doesn’t race, then you are not a painter.”

“Why would I take away the job of someone who only stands still?”

Ershayne smiled, waving his hand to dismiss Benjamin’s joke.

Then, his eyes quickly scanned the ballroom, constantly darting between the dance floor and his paper.

Benjamin noticed that dome ladies downstairs were glancing at the artist.

And as a well informed gentleman, he knew that a few of them were without husbands,  and incredibly wealthy.

“Hey, Roger. Are you really not interested in the ladies downstairs? Do you even know how much money Baroness Somerset has? She’s been watching you this whole tim. Go and talk to her…”  Benjamin spoke with a frustrated tone, feeling that he could not let his friend, that dimwit of a painter, to miss out on this opportunity.

“I’m not interested,” Ershayne cutting off Benjamin’s words with an expressionless face. “These women are not worthy of being captured on a c….”

However, the artist couldn’t finish his sentence and fell silent.

Right next to him, someone was suddenly coming up the stairs, and Ershayne stared at the woman without realizing what kind of expression he had on his face.

She was no different from the women he had seen and ignored so far. Exceptionally beautiful, enough to turn heads.

Except for her smudged lipstick.

In that moment, as if aware of his overwhelming gaze, the woman looked up and Locke eyes with him.

Thump.

The charcoal, which Ershayne had seemed to value more than his life, tumbled onto the sketchbook, rolling precariously on top.

The woman immediately averted her gaze and just like the wind, quickly disappeared towards the opposite direction,. Yet Ershayne’s gaze never left her frail shoulders.

The faint red marks on her white skin that he caught a glimpse of added more questions to his puzzled thoughts .

Who was that woman?

“You’re going to drop it,” Benjamin exclaimed as he held onto the charcoal and sketchbook.

But even amidst the chaos, Ershayne’s gaze remained fixed on the corridor where the woman had long vanished.

Seeing his friend in that state, Benjamin let out a sigh and nudged him.

Only then did Ershayne snap out of his dream-like state, his eyes coming into focus as he looked blankly ahead.

Benjamin, who had recognized the face, complained, “Things just had to go wrong.”

“Who….”

“Who do you think it is?” he shrugged. “She is the wife of the famous Duke Roam.”