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Chapter 11
Before she met her daughter, the biggest obstacle was that she had to sleep with this man.
‘I conceived Bibi later that year. Can I really conceive again at just the right time?’
No matter how hard she thought about it, Ariana couldn’t imagine recreating the circumstances of Bibi’s conception exactly as they were. But if the child was destined to be hers, wouldn’t they arrive regardless of the timing?
Even if it wasn’t Bibi, Ariana was determined to love and protect her child with all her heart.
Just like now.
Looking up at Kenneth with an emotionless expression, she whispered softly.
“If you’re worried, you’re welcome to check for yourself right now.”
Among nobles, it was customary to share a bed only on nights scheduled by the attending physician. However, after they had consummated their marriage, Kenneth rarely came to her again.
In this mansion, Ariana could not take the initiative.
‘In my previous life, I was scared the entire time…’
She’d been terrified that the execution scenes Kenneth often pointed out in the plaza would one day become her fate.
Walking on this sheet of ice, she felt that even the slightest misstep could cost her her life. She trembled with fear, like a frightened child.
But now, there was nothing left to fear.
‘I only want to increase the chances of meeting Bibi sooner.’
‘As for him, he could go on to live happily ever after with the woman who belittled Bibi.’
Ariana gently touched the hand that had just gripped her chin. Though sturdy with pronounced bones, his hand had looked cool and smooth, like a marble sculpture — until it touched her.
When it rested on her shoulder, it burned so hot that it was hard to believe it belonged to someone with such lifeless deep teal eyes.
“You said this body is all I’m worth.”
Ariana whispered almost inaudibly.
“So take a look for yourself.”
“…”
“Since you’re already here, doing it a little earlier would be more efficient, wouldn’t it?”
She took Kenneth’s hand and slowly slipped the white muslin shoulder strap off her shoulder. The soft, thin fabric yielded easily, inch by inch revealing her skin.
In the silence of the room, the only sound she could hear was the gentle tapping of the rain outside. The stillness inside made every breath feel louder and she couldn’t tell how long they had been staring at each other.
As the shoulder strap loosened, the ribbon at the front of her gown was pulled along with it.
Eventually, it came undone.
Exposed to the cold air, her neck and back shivered visibly as goosebumps rose along her spine.
“Ah…!”
Her vision, which had just moments before been fixed straight ahead, suddenly tilted towards the ceiling. Her back met the softness of the bed, and a tall shadow loomed over her.
Kenneth brushed the back of his hand against her bare skin. Wherever his veined hand grazed her, a flush bloomed in its wake.
“What are you scheming now?”
He gave a dry, amused smile as Ariana squirmed at the slightest touch.
“You used to tremble every time.”
“Ugh…”
“That sudden boldness… It’s suspicious.”
“Suspicious?”
Ariana frowned slightly, her mind drifting to the past.
She remembered those breathless nights before her death: intimate, suffocating and aimless. How had she behaved back then? Passive, almost paralysed. But wasn’t that only natural?
It had been her first time. There was no way she could have acted like she knew what she was doing — she knew nothing.
After the incident with Andrew, any sort of physical intimacy had become something to fear. Ever since then…
‘I was terrified that if I upset him, I’d end up on the executioner’s block.’
But there had been another, far more primal reason for her tension around him.
Ariana bit her lip as she gazed up at the man towering over her.
The men of Cremisa were tall by nature. But even among them, Kenneth stood half a head above the rest. She knew that.
When he was dressed formally among others, it was barely noticeable — just a passing thought. But here, in the bedroom, with just the two of them…
It was different.
He was so imposing that the thought of pushing him away never crossed her mind. His broad chest pressed firmly against hers and he held her wrist in a firm grip. The weight of his presence settled heavily between her hips, leaving her breathless.
To put simply, it was too much.
It became even more overwhelming when he took off his clothes.
‘Don’t be scared yet…’
Just remembering the past made her abdomen twist with tension. At this rate, even if the opportunity came, she’d only ruin it.
Suppressing the heat gathering at the nape of her neck, Ariana whispered.
“You said you’d replace me eventually. With someone proper.”
“……”
“You’re the reason I couldn’t do anything.”
She slowly lifted one leg and let it rest against his waist.
The inside of her thigh brushed against his vest and shirt, and through the fabric, she could feel the heat and firmness of the muscles beneath.
“I have no authority here. No respect, either.”
All she’d done was go outside to pray, and she’d been hit with a stone.
The memory stung, and her eyes welled up.
Still, Ariana smiled—deliberately sweet, foolish even, as if nothing hurt.
“That’s why I’ve chosen to find solace in the bedroom. I mean, isn’t that what I am? A shameless, ruined woman?”
That’s what the world said, and Kenneth himself seemed to believe it without question. So what if she acted like she was embracing her sinful nature now? It wouldn’t seem out of place.
Kenneth tilted his head and let out a low laugh.
“So you’re planning to use me as your plaything? What a charming thought.”
“I suggest we spend our time in a way that benefits us both, since I’m stuck here anyway.”
Ariana slowly placed her hand against his chest. He was still fully dressed, not a single thing out of place.
Click.
She tried to play with a button, but her fingers were too tense to make any real progress. Acting nonchalantly, she pretended not to care.
“I won’t back away anymore.”
“…”
“So long as you keep me alive at your side, do as you please, Your Grace.”
Ariana swallowed dryly.
‘Was that seductive enough?’
‘It didn’t feel like I crossed a line…’
Hopefully not enough to provoke suspicion from Kenneth, the very embodiment of control and obsession.
He placed his hands firmly on either side of her waist, holding her still as he stared.
Leaning in, he whispered in an amused tone against the nape of her neck.
“You’re right about everything, Ariana.”
“Then—”
“But here’s the problem.”
“What?”
“I find this little act of yours quite insolent.”
“What do you—ugh!”
Kenneth grabbed Ariana’s left ankle without warning. Despite the snug bandages, his hand engulfed her fragile ankle with ease.
It didn’t hurt.
But an icy fear rose instantly to her throat.
‘Was he… going to break it again?’
‘No—he wouldn’t do that again… right?’
And yet, like a ghost slipping through the cracks in her mind, a chilling voice returned from memory.
“You wouldn’t want to ruin those pretty eyes with a few holes, would you?”
As Andrew’s cruel mockery resurfaced in her mind, a sharp wave of fear surged through Ariana.
“Your Grace, wait—please, not there—!”
She struggled desperately, but Kenneth only stared at her left ankle with a disinterested expression.
“First you lost your mind digging around in the dirt, and now you claim to have come to your senses.”
“Ugh…!”
“And now you’re even playing the part of the obedient wife in bed.”
“Your Grace…!”
He finally looked at her again. His eyes were unreadable, and his lips were curled into a faint, mocking smile. The fear on her face, as if she truly believed he might break her ankle again, lingered in his gaze.
Even now, she still couldn’t bring herself to call him anything else. But as she clung to him in genuine desperation, the tension within him finally began to ease.
She looked just as she had on the day she had fallen at his feet, sobbing and pleading for her life.
Just like then, her blue eyes were as clear as polished glass beads, shimmering with tears trembling on the brink of falling.
“I was thinking… it would’ve been nice to go to the opera with you that night.”
But the memory hit suddenly and unexpectedly.
Kenneth let out a sharp breath of annoyance and released her ankle.
Still dazed from the shock of it, Ariana curled up and gasped for breath.
He looked down at her, his gaze a twisted mix of contempt and amusement.
“So Andrew actually fell for this and called it seduction? You’ll have to try harder.”
“Haah… ah…”
“Then maybe I’ll start visiting you on nights that aren’t scheduled.”
Without sparing her another glance, Kenneth turned and walked towards the bedroom, determined not to disturb the fragile peace he’d worked so hard to restore.
He’d never cared for help while undressing, but ever since the opera, he’d rejected it entirely.
One by one, the buttons that Ariana hadn’t managed to undo came free.
His vest and crisp white shirt slipped off, revealing a body honed by battle — solid muscle marred by history.
Scars stretched across his shoulders and chest, raw reminders of war.
Some were round and angry, like burn marks, while others were slashing wounds inflicted by assassins attacking him with daggers.
He had fought like a man with nothing left to lose.
It would have been a lie to say it hadn’t hurt.
But Kenneth had never been one to dwell on scars.
What mattered was that he had survived.
“That alone is what’s important.”
If anything, there were other things—far more grotesque than these wounds—that he considered true scars.
Like the tiara carelessly tossed into his vault, for instance.
