I Healed my Husband, the Leader of the Underworld

I still haven’t gotten used to Siegfried being so close.

 

His scent overwhelmed me.

 

This unreal-looking man was right in front of me, his warm breath brushing against my ear, and each time it happened, I felt utterly powerless.

 

I felt that if I moved even a little, it might elicit a more intense response from him.

 

Whether it was my earlobe or my lips, he always seemed eager to seek out any sensitive spot, wrapping me up in a suffocating grip.

 

My lips twitched oddly.

 

He seemed to be taking pleasure in teasing me like this as he laughed softly and slowly stroked my head.

 

It felt strange; I had never been petted like this even in my past life. There were boundaries and manners to be respected between people. Yet this man did it so casually as though such intimacy was entirely natural.

 

His touch had an uncanny intensity to it.

 

Then, our eyes met….

 

“…Have a nice trip,” I said, my gaze locked onto his cravat.

 

Knowing what had happened the last time I touched that thing, my hand, which was about to bounce up, froze mid-air.

 

Siegfried’s dark brows furrowed as his eyes followed my hand.

 

“With such a messy cravat?” he asked, his voice laced with a sly tone.

 

He knew exactly where my gaze was directed. His relaxed smile as he looked at me felt like a challenge.

 

Ultimately, I had no choice but to adjust his expensive cravat. As I did, my gaze occasionally swept over his face. As a result, our eyes met briefly. Distracted, my fingers fumbled clumsily with the fine piece of fabric. And when his hot gaze skimmed my fingertips and then returned to my eyes, I quickly withdrew my hand from his cravat.

 

Naturally, he keenly noticed that movement as well. His eyes darkened slightly, sending a peculiar shiver down my arm.

 

Thinking I had done what was needed, I clasped my hands together and stared at the polished shoes on the floor. The black shoes were so shiny that I thought they might reflect my face.

 

“You missed something,” he said mischievously. “A kiss.”

 

His words left me momentarily stunned.

 

Wait, calm down! There’s no need to overthink it. At its core, it’s the same. It’s just physical contact, the same as any other touch—just two bits of flesh briefly touching; I told myself, as my slender fingers grasped his meticulously arranged cravat once more.

 

As I moved closer, his scent became more intense. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and with effort, moved towards him. A soft chuckle brushed against my ear, but he made no move to rush me.

 

Then, finally…

 

Smooch.

 

Our lips touched.

 

It was strange. Though it was just a fleeting contact, my lips felt completely numb.

 

My hands gripping his cravat trembled.

 

Then as if burned, I pulled away quickly, my breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.

 

Soon, his gentle warmth settled over my head.

 

He was tenderly stroking my hair again.

 

When Siegfried’s hand finally fell away, I managed to exhale deeply.

 

The sound of my breath cutting through the air was quite loud.

 

Yes, It was that quiet.

 

After all, It was just the two of us here.

 

“I’m just going to step out for a minute,” my husband said in a very affectionate and gentle voice.

 

Where was he going? I was curious, but I didn’t ask him. However, judging by how dressed up he was, I wondered if he was going to the imperial palace.

 

But the Empress is there.

 

The fleeting thought that flashed through my mind was so terrible I had to suppress the urge to shake my head, but then….

 

“I’m going to the imperial palace.”

 

“……”

 

I lifted my head and gazed intently into his blue eyes. Somehow, hearing him say where he was going with his own mouth gave me the courage to look at him in the eyes.

 

“We’re going to talk about the water and sewer project,” he added.

 

Even though Milena was only six years younger than him, he talked about the project as if it were a simple topic, much like the weather or the title of a book he had read the day before.

 

Come to think of it, after our meal, Lancel had rushed to inform me that the Empress had summoned Siegfried early this morning.

 

Of course, being only ten, he didn’t fully grasp the implications of that.

 

He mentioned that instead of going directly to the imperial palace, Siegfried had chosen to watch his swordsmanship practice. Lancel found it strange that my husband  would spend his valuable time on something so trivial and had asked him directly about it.

 

He noted that the Empress would have considered it an insult had she known, and he couldn’t understand why Siegfried had made that choice.

 

 

That’s right.

 

Empress Catherine was a very clever and cunning woman. With a mere flick of her lips at the next tea party, she could easily turn the events of yesterday’s ball into a joke.

 

 

[Is that so? By the way, Duke Roam is quite diligent. After being the star of such a fantastic ball, he was here helping me with my business early this morning. It seems the hostess isn’t keeping him busy.]

 

Of course, the astute Empress would have discussed nothing but business with Siegfried, and nothing unsightly would have transpired between them.

 

But the public would have already realized that the relationship between me and Siegfried was a hollow shell, and Siegfried Roam wouldn’t have cared about the gossip swirling around.

 

He wasn’t the type to fret over such trivial and annoying background noise. In the end, it would have been me left in the mud. Truly, Catherine Pembrooke was the ultimate socialite.

 

And indeed, the relationship between Siegfried Roam and me was…

 

“Take care.”

 

…only this much.

 

“Alright.”

 

Just this much, and just as precarious.

 

Did Siegfried already know all of this and intentionally postpone his meeting with the Empress?

 

I stared at him, trying to read his intentions, and although he seemed ready to leave, he didn’t move, his gaze locked onto mine.

 

I parted my lips to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

 

There was something I needed to say, yet I couldn’t bring myself to voice it. I wasn’t sure I could ask the question and not feel crushed by the truth.

 

“Siegfried… .”

 

Before I could finish my sentence, my lips were devoured by his.

 

He grabbed my jaw in a crushing grip, mixing his breath with mine furiously.

 

And just like he had claimed, he was indeed a great kisser.

 

My lips, previously resistant, surrendered under the exploration of his tongue. He explored my mouth as if he were a parched man discovering water after nearly dying of thirst.

 

His Impatience was palpable.

 

In response to my passive reaction, he swept over the roof of my mouth, seeking even the slightest reaction from me

 

Then, finally, the breath I had been holding escaped, and he greedily consumed it, trapping me in his embrace.

 

There was no consideration or restraint in his movements.

 

Several times, our lips parted briefly only for mine to be captured under his again seconds later. His firm hands traced the curve of my waist, heading lower and lower.

 

It was dizzying—so much so that I could barely keep my eyes open.

 

My long eyelashes trembled softly. I flinched a little at the subtle brush of his nose; my shoulders twitched for no reason at the subtle brush of his nose against mine, and his breath, warm and teasing, swept across my cheek.

 

A strange sensation stirred in my stomach, followed by a scorching heat trailing his hand as it descended. When his lips finally away, I grabbed his collar to steady myself, crumpling the smooth fabric under my grip. At that moment, his arm pulled me hard against him.

 

Gasping for breath, I looked up at his face, which seemed tense, as if he were suppressing something Frightened by his gaze, I tried to focus on his lips—the very lips that had just etched that sensation into me….

 

His fingers brushed against my trembling lips-calm yet insistent–hovering at the corner of my mouth as if they might leave but never did.

 

At last, he withdrew his hand, and after making sure I could stand on my own, he stepped back. Then he wiped his damp fingers with a handkerchief, looking like a picture-perfect gentleman.

 

“…Give it to me.”

 

As he was about to put the handkerchief back into his jacket pocket, I quickly grabbed his hand. Then, I looked at his hand, now frozen in mid-air, realizing the crazy thing I had just done.

 

It felt really firm.

 

It was the same hand that had just caressed my lips, yet it felt so different.

 

“It’s dirty…”

 

“……”

 

“Use a different one…” I continued as I awkwardly let go of his hand.

 

We had touched.

 

We had touched again.

 

Our hands, for the second time since the meal, had touched again.

 

He put the handkerchief back into his jacket pocket and patted my hair.

 

“Stay well at home. I’m going to miss you.”

 

Then, he kissed my forehead and walked past me.

 

The door closed behind him as I stood there for a long time, staring blankly out the window.

 

***

[Clear your schedule for today.]

 

[Stay well at home.]

 

His voice was sweet and gentle, so much so that it didn’t register as a command. It starkly contrasted with the discipline he had promised “Milena” on their wedding day.

 

Yes. He was  kind when he spoke those words—kind enough to make me forget how poorly he had treated me.

 

 

He looked satisfied.

 

Even when I recalled the memories of last night, he had been unexpectedly merciful.

 

My gaze drifted outside the window, watching Siegfried’s carriage disappear from view. When I turned my head, I found myself staring at a majestic antique wooden desk—a relic from the Victorian era, the kind that seemed more suited for a museum.

 

Even though I must have used yesterday, the desk was obsessively clean.

 

The maids must have been hard at work.

 

I took a step towards it, almost out of habit, and then paused to think.

 

I knew where Siegfried had gone and what he would be doing there. I had the entire afternoon to myself, yet in this moment, I felt agonizingly uncertain.

 

Siegfried was being kind to me. The subtle changes in his behavior felt like a heavy stone dropping into my heart. It was a rare moment of peace.

 

If I became the wife he wanted, he might continue to show such kindness in the future. His consideration and attention were unexpected, yet… not unpleasant, and I liked the warmth he showed.

 

My resolve was starting to waver.

 

Maybe, if I waited quietly for him as he requested, it might make him happy. Perhaps I could tame him this way.

 

…A terrifying sense of hope began to rise within me.

 

But fortunately, as my thoughts reached this point, I shook my head.

 

No!

 

I slapped my cheeks to jolt myself back to reality. I even did it once more for good measure, hard enough that my vision blurred.

 

No. The original Milena must have thought the same.