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Chapter 29
My Wife Entered My Room
The carriage jolted violently as it passed over a rock protruding from the dirt road. Stefan hurriedly wrapped his arms tightly around his wife as her body tilted sharply.
“Are you all right, dear?”
Baroness Boiled smiled softly and patted his anxious arm. Looking lovingly at her husband, she teased him gently with her eyes.
“Stefan, please. How many times do I have to say I’m fine? I’m tired of repeating myself.”
“But you… your body…”
“Yes, I know. Because of my condition, our journey is twice as long. And you had to sell your precious books just to rent this expensive carriage.”
“I told you, once we get the money from leasing the estate, I can buy them all back. Don’t worry about it.”
Even though he knew his wife wasn’t trying to scold him, Stefan was anxious and helpless. He felt nothing but sorry for his wife, who was enduring such a rough journey while pregnant with great difficulty.
“I’m sorry, dear. It seems all I ever do is apologize to you.”
“Don’t say that, Stefan. I’m actually happy we’re going to the duchy. You know my dream has always been to raise a child in the peaceful countryside.”
Stefan’s wife was a distant relative of the Chamberlain family, close to the Dowager Empress. But her own family was insignificant and poor. Her father had sent her to the capital as a companion and maid to the Countess Chamberlain, hoping to get her into high society. But she disliked the hustle and bustle of Celleno and its noble social circles. Instead of the slick noblemen of the capital, she was drawn to Stefan, who was quiet and awkward. Even her family’s objections couldn’t stop her from becoming Baroness Boiled, because beneath her gentle appearance she had a stubbornness that would never bend. Life as a poor noblewoman wasn’t easy, but she’d never regretted marrying him. She was scared to travel so far while pregnant, but she followed him willingly for the same reason. She loved him and wanted to be by his side—worried for her inflexible, upright husband.
“And really, even the cold-hearted Duke Richard wouldn’t dare harm a head butler who’s traveling with his pregnant wife, right? I need to be right by your side.”
The Baroness nestled even deeper into her husband’s arms.
“You and your worries.”
Stefan sighed deeply, then wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders and gently patted her. When he had heard she was pregnant, he’d become even more troubled, but it was Matilda, his wife, who pushed him to action. Even if she was just a distant branch of the powerful Chamberlain family, she was much more decisive than Stefan. She had told him without hesitation that they should go to the duchy.
“Stefan, you know what the Dowager Empress’s family is like. The Weitzen family never forgives those who go against them. They’ll make your life miserable.”
He couldn’t argue with that. There was no use blaming the Count Chamberlain for recommending him to the Dowager Empress without even consulting him. As Stefan’s sighs grew longer, the Baroness tried to comfort him.
“You’re the one who should stop worrying. We’ll get by just fine in the duchy. I’m good at dealing with the noble ladies. The Duchess is said to be frail, so I’ll win her trust by taking good care of her. You just keep the Dowager Empress’s curiosity satisfied and stall for time. What do they care in the far-off capital about what goes on in these mountains? Don’t you agree?”
Despite more than ten days of slow travel, Matilda’s face was still lively as she looked up at Stefan.
Stefan’s dark, heavy expression melted away like frost in a spring breeze.
“You really are a brave woman.”
He gave a small smile and kissed her on the forehead. Just then, the carriage shook even harder and finally came to a stop. Stefan heard the coachman get down and grumble.
“Stay here. Don’t get out.”
After cautioning his wife, Stefan opened the door and stepped out. The coachman, sweating, took off his hat and looked troubled.
“I’m sorry, sir. The wheel is broken. It’ll take at least half a day to fix.”
“Half a day? That means we’ll be stuck out here until nightfall.”
He couldn’t let his pregnant wife spend the night out in the open. He examined the wheel with the coachman and saw that the frame supporting the wheel was broken—just as the coachman said, it wouldn’t be an easy fix.
Damn it.
Stefan wiped his brow in frustration and shook the coachman’s arm, desperate for any hope.
“Hey, aren’t we close to a village? Can’t we try to get there, at least? How can my pregnant wife sleep out here on the road?”
“I’d like to, but with this wheel, it won’t move another inch. If we’re unlucky, the wheel might come off completely, and then the carriage will be useless.”
Stefan’s face paled in dismay. Just then, the coachman craned his neck, looking back down the road.
“Oh? Sir, I hear a carriage coming from that direction.”
“A carriage?”
Stefan quickly turned and, sure enough, saw a large, impressive carriage approaching—far grander than the one he had rented. The opposing coachman also seemed to spot them and picked up speed. Stefan’s eyes went to the striking flag on the other carriage: two crossed spears between snarling Altayka wolves. As he watched the fluttering flag, Stefan muttered quietly to himself.
“No way… the Uptide Margrave?”
Why would the margrave’s banner—guardian of the empire’s border—be here? The massive carriage pulled up alongside his own. A blond young man stepped out, eyeing Stefan’s group, the broken carriage, and all their luggage.
“Are you Stefan Boiled, Baron?”
“…You know me?”
Startled to hear his own name from the lips of a stranger, Stefan replied cautiously. The young man shrugged, pulling off his gloves one finger at a time.
“Not really. I just figured the only person hauling this much stuff toward Utrecht in a rented carriage must be you.”
The young man smirked at Stefan, glove in hand.
“So I was right. The mouse sent by the Dowager Empress herself to spy on her resurrected stepson—Stefan Boiled.”
Now Stefan realized who the man was—not by his name, but by his infamous nickname: the mad ‘flower stag’ of the Svergen Empire, sole heir of the Uptide Margrave, and a genius swordsman. When facing enemies, he was said to smile with beautiful, deer-like eyes—vicious and dazzling. That very man was now smiling at Stefan.
Knock, knock.
While Frida stared blankly at the wall, she heard the knocking again. It was as if he knew she was there, giving her time to open the door herself when she was ready. Her husband was on the other side of that wall—the man who had kissed her for the first time. She knew it was natural for a married couple, but having gone through it, she felt too embarrassed to face anyone. Especially Muriel. She’d never kept a secret from her before, so she didn’t know how she would explain it. She wasn’t sure how it had even happened.
All at once, the dam she’d been holding back in her mind broke, and memories of last night came flooding in.
“Do you like me as I am today?”
How could she not? How many dreams had she fulfilled because of her husband? That’s why she nodded her head so eagerly, full of gratitude.
“Then let this be a reward from you to your savior.”
His lips, suddenly on hers, tasted strongly of herbs. She felt almost drunk from just that contact. Daniel’s lips lingered on hers for what felt like a long time—at least to Frida. She’d kept fiddling with her hands, wondering how long it would last. Why was her husband doing this all of a sudden? As soon as his lips left, a rush of questions filled her mind. While she was lost in thought, her husband held out his hand.
“Let’s go. I’ll escort you to the bedroom.”
The bedroom… Just now his lips, now his hand… next, the bedroom? Is today finally the day? She hadn’t prepared herself… What had her mother said? On the first night, just quietly follow what your husband does. So, she just had to stay still, right? Just like before…?
Remembering the soft, unfamiliar sensation of his lips, Frida quickly covered her cheek with her hand. Her face was so hot she had to pull her hand away. In a daze, she let herself be led along by him.
Soon, her arm was pulled gently.
“We’re here.”
She looked up—it was her bedroom. Until recently, she and her husband had shared this bed and slept together. Well, she woke up alone, actually. She stared blankly at the heavy door made of sturdy Altas wood.
“Madam.”
It’s all right, Frida. Every wife goes through this. In fact, she was late. Still, why was she so nervous?
“Madam.”
“…Yes?”
Barely regaining her senses, she answered. Her husband squeezed her hand and whispered,
“Breathe.”
Her breath, which had been stuck in her throat, burst out all at once. She took deep breaths and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Daniel patiently waited for Frida’s awkward fuss to end, then kindly opened the bedroom door for her.
“Go on in.”
She didn’t know where the courage came from, but she held onto his arm.
“Um… tonight…”
But her husband gently brushed her hand away and pushed her inside.
“Don’t think about anything and just get some good sleep.”
And that was it. Nothing else happened. Nothing at all. Standing there, Frida slowly straightened her knees, clutching her fists. She regretted how obviously nervous she’d been last night, but anyone’s first time is awkward and embarrassing. There was no reason to be ashamed. Besides, today, she really needed her husband’s help. She had to meet him.
Taking a deep breath, Frida grabbed the doorknob on the wall and pulled hard.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Your Grace. I—huh?”
She blinked at the empty doorway, then poked her head out.
“Um…”
“Over here.”
“Ah!”
Startled by the deep voice to her right, Frida stumbled, grabbing the door for support. Daniel was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, gazing at her with a slanted posture. Frida quickly straightened herself as she stepped through the door, giving an awkward smile.
“Wh-what are you doing over there, Your Grace?”
“As you can see.”
There was something different about him tonight—she couldn’t put her finger on it, but the air felt different, heavier somehow. Her husband nodded his chin toward her.
“I’m looking at my wife, who has entered my room.”
