Chapter 30 : First Date (3)
“…Ha, calm down? Do you really think I can calm down right now?”
Aracila responded with a chilling smile. Of course, calming down wouldn’t be easy. Still, Damian did his best to soothe her.
He couldn’t afford to argue with his wife in a place with so many eyes watching. Besides, this was entirely his fault.
No, wait—maybe not.
“Why did you come up to me like that without saying anything?”
“I was just trying to take a flower petal off your hair, that’s why!”
As he stomped his foot and shouted, the boat rocked violently, drawing the attention of the people around them. Left speechless, Damian muttered to himself internally. I’m doomed. The situation was an utter disaster.
“I should’ve just ripped your whole head off instead. Don’t you think?”
“Darling, please calm dow—”
“Calm down, calm down! Stop saying that. It’s making me even angrier!”
Aracila’s clenched fists trembled. Though her physical strength wasn’t particularly frightening, the magic she wielded was a different story.
He needed to resolve the situation before they drew even more attention. Gripping the oar urgently, Damian spoke.
“Let’s talk once we’re back on land. Causing a scene here is dangerous.”
For safety reasons—or for the sake of his dignity.
Hearing the murmurs around her, Aracila barely managed to suppress her fury and sat down. She used wind magic to dry her soaked clothes and hair, then conjured a small flame in her palm to keep warm.
While she remained silent, focusing on raising her body temperature, Damian rowed with all his might to return to shore.
And just like that, their boat ride ended in complete disaster.
—
Trailing behind Aracila, whose anger was still evident, Damian had no idea what to do.
It wasn’t the first time someone had been mad at him. But he had never once tried to appease that anger.
Other people’s emotions had never been his concern.
Feeling unfamiliar with his own hesitance, Damian grew restless. How could he make Aracila feel better?
Apologizing would be the best first step, right?
“…I’m sorry, my lady.”
As soon as he climbed into the carriage and closed the door, he spoke his apology. Aracila, arms crossed, turned her head sharply away without responding.
“I didn’t do it on purpose. I was just startled for a moment, that’s all…”
“You flinched because you thought I was going to touch you, didn’t you? Am I wrong?”
“……”
His silence was confirmation. See? I knew it. Aracila let out a scoff.
“Do you realize how insulting your attitude is? Do I disgust you? I don’t like unnecessary physical contact either, you know!”
Did he think she was dying to touch him or something? Aracila finally let out the resentment that had been building inside her.
“It’s not like you’re the only one uncomfortable with it. But why don’t you ever consider other people’s feelings?”
Breathing heavily in frustration, she soon pressed further.
“Be honest. Do you act this way only toward me?”
“That’s not it.”
“Then why do you reject physical contact so much? What, do you have mysophobia or something?”
Damian carefully chose his words. He did prefer cleanliness, but he wasn’t a germophobe. His aversion to physical contact stemmed from something else entirely.
But speaking about it would expose a vulnerability he wasn’t willing to share.
How can I trust her enough to tell her?
What if she turned against him, like the head maid who had been bought off by the Duke’s household? Everything he revealed to her could become a weapon against him.
‘Damian, never live like your mother.’
A long-buried memory resurfaced. His mother had been naive and weak-hearted, someone who opened up too easily to others.
She never doubted people’s intentions, freely revealing her weaknesses and blindly accepting kindness—regardless of the hidden malice behind it.
As a result, she was betrayed by a trusted friend, had her husband stolen away, and ultimately died.
For Damian to avenge her, he couldn’t live as she had. He couldn’t trust easily. He had to conceal any potential weaknesses at all costs.
“Damian, are you not going to answer me?”
As his silence stretched, Aracila spoke again, clearly frustrated.
“We’re in the same boat whether we like it or not. And we have to remain married until you inherit the duchy. So the least you can do is tell me why you hate physical contact so much.”
“How can I trust you enough to tell you that?”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. He immediately regretted it, but it was too late. Aracila’s expression hardened.
“If that’s how you feel, why did you marry me in the first place?”
“…Weren’t you the one who proposed first? And besides, this marriage was purely out of necessity.”
There had never been any need for trust or faith between them. They were merely a couple in name, bound by convenience, destined to part ways once their goals were met.
Realizing he wasn’t wrong, Damian regained his confidence. But the moment he met Aracila’s piercing blue gaze, that confidence melted away like snow.
“So you think that justifies hurting me, Damian?”
“…What do you mean—”
“I honestly find your attitude unpleasant, and I did get hurt—just a little, really just a little.”
Aracila held her thumb and index finger slightly apart as she spoke. Admitting it hurt a lot would be too damaging to her pride.
“And if this is a contractual marriage, then you should at least play your part properly. You refuse to even let me link arms with you, yet you act like my husband only in words. How long do you think that will work?”
If a married couple showed absolutely no physical affection, people would start to suspect something sooner or later. Even the Duke’s family could use it against them.
Damian’s expression turned complicated. He couldn’t deny what she was saying.
As Aracila spoke again, she suddenly noticed a strand of her hair stuck to Damian’s knee and reached out to remove it.
Oh, why is that there?
“You should at least try to slowly get used to—”
Smack.
The sound of Damian reflexively slapping her hand away cut off the rest of her sentence.
It hadn’t been intentional this time, either.
His mind had been a mess with so many thoughts that he had instinctively rejected her touch—just as he always did.
“Stop the carriage.”
Her voice dropped to a cold, low tone. Not that it would have mattered if she had known the reason behind his reaction—she still would’ve been furious.
So, you’re going to treat me like this until the end? Fine. I’m done, too!
“My lady, please listen to me—”
“No, you listen to me, Damian. I said, stop the carriage.”
In the end, the carriage, which had been moving through the bustling streets, came to a halt in the middle of the road. The fluttering Red Hawk banner drooped lifelessly.
Damian watched, at a loss, as Aracila grabbed her handbag and parasol, preparing to step out.
“I’ll just get off instead. You should take the carriage.”
Completely ignoring him, Aracila left him with one last remark before shutting the door.
“Go to hell.”
—
This date was an absolute disaster.
Feeling unsettled, Damian didn’t head home but instead made his way to the knight order. He needed to clear his head by swinging his sword in the training grounds.
Since it was the weekend, most knights weren’t around—weekends were for rest, after all. Only people like Damian bothered coming here.
Of course, there were also people who were the complete opposite of him—like Isaac Wind, for example.
“Captain? What brings you here?”
Isaac had been busy “disguising” personal training as a private lesson for a subordinate when he spotted Damian entering the training grounds. He quickly approached him.
Seeing Damian’s sweat-drenched hair clinging to his forehead, he was suddenly reminded of Aracila earlier, and a strange sense of discomfort settled in his chest.
“Weren’t you going on a date with your wife? You even asked me for a restaurant recommendation…”
“Isaac.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“You’re making me uncomfortable. Get out of my sight.”
“…What?”
Isaac looked completely dumbfounded. Since when does just looking at someone make them uncomfortable?
Besides, Damian was the one who looked genuinely uncomfortable.
He had even gone out of his way to recommend a restaurant, so why did his captain seem so annoyed?
“…Did you fight with your wife?”
“……”
Damian didn’t answer, but Isaac knew.
His captain had a habit—when asked a question he didn’t want to acknowledge, he either stayed silent or changed the subject.
“Wait, you actually had a marital fight?”
“Isaac.”
“Yes.”
“Run thirty laps around the training ground.”
What?
Isaac looked utterly wronged, but Damian remained firm.
It was only natural to suffer consequences for irritating one’s superior.
Seeing that resisting would only increase the number of laps, Isaac sighed, put his sword down, and started running.
Meanwhile, Damian began his own personal training.
By the time sweat was trickling down his forehead, Isaac had finished his laps and returned.
“So, what did you fight about?”
“……”
“Come on, tell me. You know I’m an expert in romance.”
Isaac puffed out his chest proudly, thumping it for emphasis.
His cheeky grin wasn’t particularly convincing, but Damian didn’t have anyone else to talk to.
Frowning slightly, he hesitated for a long moment before Isaac pressed again.
“Captain, don’t hold back. Just tell me. I swear I’m a dating expert! You have no idea how many knights in the order have succeeded in love thanks to my advice.”
“I don’t want to know.”
Damian shot him a look of mild disdain before adding,
“And I’m trying to figure out which part I should be asking about.”
“Which… part?”
“Between avoiding physical contact and saying I couldn’t trust her—which one made my wife angrier?”
Isaac’s jaw dropped in sheer disbelief.
You’re seriously debating that?
“If you ask me, Captain, I think the way you’re thinking about this is what pissed her off the most.”
“…What?”
Damian’s sharp gaze turned toward him, but Isaac quickly raised both hands in surrender and took a step back. Still, he didn’t stop talking.
“Honestly, both would be hurtful from your wife’s perspective. What’s the point of ranking them when they’re both your mistakes? If it were me, I’d have cried.”
“My wife is not a crybaby like you.”
“Hey! I’m not a crybaby!”
Isaac protested with a wounded expression, grumbling under his breath.
“Anyway, wasn’t this your first date after getting married? You’ve been too busy to spend time with her, and when you finally do, you just make her feel disappointed. How could she not be heartbroken?”
“……”
The phrase first date struck Damian hard.
Before their marriage, the only time they had met alone was to discuss the terms of their contract.
Which meant…
Today was, in every sense, the first actual date in both of their lives.
Realizing this, a strange, overwhelming feeling washed over him.
A husband who ruins his wife’s first date by hurting her…
“…Did she really get hurt?”
Aracila had admitted—however slightly—that she was.
All his life, Damian had never cared whether others were hurt or not.
But today, it felt like a thorn had lodged itself deep inside him, making it impossible to ignore.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
