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chapter 16
2021.01.26
We spent a long time just staring into each other’s eyes. In the cool night breeze, the words that slipped from his lips struck my heart.
“I’m loving even for you.”
The distant sounds of people at the ballroom, the whispers and shuffling of couples scattered around the garden—all of it faded into nothing. What resonated in my mind was only what Pervin had said to me. Loving even for me? Loving me? I wanted to think it over calmly, but I couldn’t. Pervin’s presence had barged into my heart and stirred it into chaos.
“Say it again?”
He suddenly leaned toward me.
“I’m loving you.”
My chest sank at his repeated confession. His gaze seemed to toy with my heart, tightening around me languidly.
“I’ve put everything aside to speak honestly to you. So, be honest too—tell me what you truly think of me.”
His fingers brushed my lips in a teasing way, as if expecting an answer from me. His expectant gaze made it even harder to speak. I couldn’t tell if his sudden confession was genuine or just a momentary indulgence in the mood. I managed to open my mouth and answer. About whether it was love or not, I had no choice but to answer honestly, just as he wanted.
“I can’t give you the same answer…”
The green of his eyes shook violently at my words. In a moment, a shadow of despair crossed his flushed face, and my heart sank along with it. He leaned closer as if asking one final question, his lips brushing my forehead and then my cheek.
“Really?”
“…”
I couldn’t say anything. His desperate gaze had shaken me deeply. So many emotions and thoughts swirled in my mind, yet my lips wouldn’t move. My heart was swept along with Pervin’s intense feelings, and it felt as if the whole world had stopped. I couldn’t tell if his confession was a product of the moment or raw, genuine emotion. There was something I hadn’t said. I thought I didn’t love him, that we were just peacefully coexisting, but my heart had begun to race. It wasn’t love yet, but I realized I was starting to feel fluttery toward him. I saw Pervin bite his lip tightly. His eyes glistened, his expression darkened rapidly, and I cautiously added:
“But I do like you. After all, we’re a happily married couple, right? So…”
“Stop. Don’t say anything more.”
Suddenly, everything froze. Tears streamed down his face. Was my answer that shocking? Was I really someone who could affect him so profoundly? My chest ached. I raised my hand to wipe his tears. His body trembled slightly at my touch.
“Don’t do this. When you cry, it hurts me too.”
His green eyes gazed at me with a mix of resentment and plea. He wanted to say so much but restrained himself, moving his lips repeatedly. Then, abruptly, he turned away from me. Without any words, we left and headed toward the ballroom. He led the way, and I followed. For a few minutes, it was suffocating to be so close. Then suddenly, he stopped. Through gritted teeth, I heard him speak:
“Irwen, forget what I said earlier. I was drunk when I said it.”
“But…”
“Please.”
He turned to me, and under the dark moonlight, I could see his disheveled face.
“Just forget everything. What I said, what I cried, everything.”
In the end, we didn’t enjoy the rest of the ball and returned home. After what happened in the garden, neither of us had a chance to recover—by the time we realized it, we were in the carriage, and soon after, home. Lady Tilly, her eyes swollen from sleep, greeted us. Though her drowsiness was obvious, her determination to get us into the same room was unwavering.
“Did you have a good time? How about spending the night together tonight?”
“Do we even seem in the mood for that?”
Pervin snapped, frustrated at Lady Tilly for her suggestion. She, unbothered, responded calmly as if this were familiar territory.
“It’s been a while since you’ve gone out. Why not enjoy the night together as well?”
“That’s not up to me, it’s up to Irwen.”
Why was he turning it on me? I was about to retort when Lady Tilly interjected:
“Master, why are you so tense? Did something happen?”
Pervin clenched his fists.
“Nothing happened.”
His flushed face caught my glance again. He quickly strode upstairs. The door clicked loudly in the quiet house. Lady Tilly looked at me curiously.
“You two fought, didn’t you?”
“No, not exactly…”
“Master’s face is completely sulking. Ever since he was young, whenever his emotions twisted, he’d contort that beautiful face.”
Sulking? My honest response to his confession wasn’t enough for him? He didn’t get the answer he wanted…?
“You only love me, right?”
Pervin entered the study, tossed off his suffocating coat, and roughly undid his tight collar. His chest boiled with frustration, and he threw open his shirt. He sat, ruffling his neatly styled hair violently, repeatedly running his hands over his flushed face. Even so, his burning heart didn’t cool. Rejected after boldly confessing, and showing his tears before me, he was in a particularly low mood.
“Even if it were a lie, I just wanted to hear ‘I love you.’”
Was it too much hope? The unexpected kiss with Irwen had filled him with passionate love and unwarranted confidence. Feeling her warm breath, her soft lips, he thought she must feel something for him too. She initiated the kiss—he had been swept away by the sweetness and lost rationality. He should have expected her to push him away but didn’t. Lost in his own excitement, he thought only of himself.
“I foolishly hoped she’d feel the same way.”
His wife was too honest, and didn’t give him the answer he wanted. Seeing himself cry wasn’t the result he expected. Embarrassment washed over him, and he struggled for a long time.
“Am I expecting too much?”
Irwen had changed, but not enough to accept his heart fully. He longed for her love, but she wasn’t ready yet.
“I shouldn’t have kissed her.”
He recalled the source of all his anguish. When he went to find Irwen, he saw Duke Sibellom approaching her. He rushed to her first, but Sibellom kept closing in. Instinct took over: he kissed Irwen passionately, so Sibellom couldn’t interfere. He had meant to pretend at first, but when she responded, he lost himself in emotion, letting all the restrained desire flood out. His body tensed, his hand veins bulging, his lower body rigid. Thinking of her eyes, her soft lips, her warm skin pressed against him—he couldn’t calm down. He wanted to give her his heart, to press her lips to his repeatedly. But she didn’t love him. Her words, “I can’t give the same answer as you,” felt like:
“There’s no way I could love you.”
He wanted to hear ‘I love you,’ but instead heard rejection. His pride shattered, plunging him into despair. Though he hadn’t expected to hear it from the start, the truth hit hard. Had he been too cold toward her after she changed? How should he handle this?
Outside, a cheerful female voice pierced the closed door. Laughing servants distracted him, and he sprang up, seeing Irwen arm in arm with Lady Tilly heading to her room. Seeing her swaying figure, he slammed the door.
“Dangerous…”
Pervin growled, suppressing a groan. Now, even hearing her voice, seeing her back, triggered a response in his body. They say those in love are weak—he had been one from the start, but now a new weakness emerged. He was irritated at his body for being so honest. Moving away might calm it down.
“I’ll need to keep my distance from Irwen for now.”
Avoiding her might invite misunderstanding, but it was better than showing this state.
After the ball, a cold tension lingered. At home, the atmosphere grew awkward. He wouldn’t speak of his anger or meet me. He often left the house early and returned after I’d slept. My efforts to grow closer seemed wasted, yet in a way, it was better—I couldn’t stop thinking about his broad chest, moist lips.
“Why exactly is Pervin angry?”
While working, I asked Lady Tilly frankly. I recounted the ball: the first dance with him, the emperor’s dance request interrupted by Pervin, being left alone, the rose garden, getting lost, and finally Pervin appearing. I omitted the kiss for convenience. Lady Tilly put down the porcelain pot slowly. Contrary to my expectations, she asked naturally:
“Don’t you know why Master was angry?”
“No. Lady Tilly, you said you were his nanny when he was young, right? Was he always so quick to anger?”
“Absolutely not. He was quiet and polite, very kind. He even raised an orphaned kitten in his bed.”
It seemed strange—he shouldn’t get angry easily. Why was he so angry with me?
Lady Tilly glanced at oblivious Irwen and sighed. People could change. She had known Pervin all his life, serving at the Carlisle estate. Now, it was obvious—he was deeply concerned about Irwen. A stark contrast to his usual detached behavior. Normally reserved, now he expressed passion openly.
“Even for the servants, who sees little of him, this was noticeable. It’s surprising and encouraging.”
Pervin, commuting daily to the palace, had even reminded the servants:
“Take care to make Irwen comfortable.”
It was unusual for him to leave such detailed instructions about his wife. He had changed, clearly. Avoiding her wasn’t the answer; he needed to confront it.
Lady Tilly’s advice: Face her directly.
Pervin spent the day thinking how to approach Irwen naturally: give flowers? Jewelry? A villa? Or the estate? No, start with dinner, try conversation. Just imagining her in a flowing dress, he lowered his head deeply.
“How long will this last?”
Even thinking of her bright smile, slightly upturned lips, and warm skin sent his body into rebellion. If so, maybe she should wear thick clothing. During meetings, though outwardly professional, he was consumed by thoughts of what to say to her tonight.
The emperor glanced at him:
“Lord Lilius will arrive tomorrow. You’re okay with that, right?”
Pervin was startled. The emperor added:
“He chose to stay at your home. You agreed, didn’t you?”
Pervin’s lips pressed together in thought. Lord Lilius had been kind to Irwen, even after becoming duke. He had to consult Irwen on proper hospitality. His face flushed. Avoiding her wouldn’t solve anything. He had to confront it, despite how sensitive he was around her, convincing himself he could control it.
