Chapter 8

Bubble, bubble, bubble.

The bathtub churned like a spa, streams of frothy bubbles constantly rising to the surface.

There’s something like this here?

“Oh my… this feels amazing.”

The aching stiffness in my lower back, sore from walking around all day in high heels, slowly melted away.

“My lady, you’ll need to lean your head back if I’m to wash your hair first.”

“Ah… you’re really going to wash my hair?”

“Shouldn’t a husband fulfill his duties?”

Droplets clung to his impossibly long eyelashes, making him look unreal.

“You could just pretend and we could leave.”

Feeling embarrassed at the thought of entrusting my hair to a man I barely knew, I cautiously offered a compromise.

“That won’t do.”

“…!”

“I intend to fulfill my duty as your husband. That is part of our agreement.”

“But…”

“But?”

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at me.

Hmm… he’s more stubborn than I expected.

In the end, I rested my head against the built-in headrest of the tub. It even had handles to help keep one’s balance.

“Then I’ll begin.”

I quietly closed my eyes.

Warm water poured over my hair.

Splash.

Splash.

His fingers moved gently.

Swish… swish… swish…

Is he working up the shampoo into a lather?

Oddly enough, I found myself nervous.

This was the sort of scene I’d only ever seen in movies.

When things got this awkward, changing the subject was probably the best option.

“How did this tradition begin?”

“This land was once plagued by monsters. A husband could become a widow’s memory even before their wedding night had ended. So when a woman still chose to become his lifelong partner despite that risk, this ritual was performed as a gesture of gratitude.”

“I see… But Your Grace is an imperial noble. Why would someone like you follow the traditions of the demon race—”

“Mmnh…”

I couldn’t finish my sentence.

His long, gentle fingers had begun massaging my scalp.

“Ah…!”

Ten firm fingertips settled against my head like little suction cups.

Press.

Press.

Ah…

He was incredibly skilled.

Pleasant tingles spread through my entire body.

“It seems you can’t even finish your sentence. I take it you enjoy my massage?”

“Ah… well…”

“Hng…”

“It’s a fine tradition. That’s why we’ve kept it alive. So I hope you won’t judge the people of this territory with unnecessary prejudice.”

Before I realized it, his long fingers had slid to the crown of my head, pressing firmly into the pressure points.

“Y-Yes… yes… ahh…”

I clamped my lips together, desperately trying not to make any sounds.

Why are such embarrassing noises coming out of me?

I crossed my legs tightly, putting all my strength into suppressing the involuntary moans.

His thumb rested atop my head while the other four fingers pressed rhythmically.

Then he worked his way along the sides of my head before supporting the back of my skull and carefully massaging the muscles connecting my neck to my scalp.

“W-Where… ah… did you… learn… this kind of massage?”

“Learn? You don’t need lessons. Once you’ve had enough massages yourself, you naturally figure it out.”

“Ah… I… see…”

I answered, but curiosity lingered.

Who massages the Grand Duke?

A servant?

A maid?

If it’s a maid…

What if he’s secretly a womanizer?

Still…

In the original novel, Gerald had always been described as someone who shut himself away in his study.

I couldn’t imagine it.

Splash.

Warm water rinsed every trace of soap from my hair.

He carefully washed away every last bit of foam.

Then silence fell.

Feeling awkward, I hurriedly lifted my head.

“Not yet, my lady.”

“Hm?”

I opened my eyes.

He was pouring oil from a small brown bottle into his palm.

“We should apply hair oil if you want your hair to remain soft.”

“…!”

Wasn’t Gerald von Zeier supposed to be a Sword Master who hunted monsters?

“What are you staring at? Shouldn’t the Grand Duchess look her very best?”

“Ah…”

Well…

I rested my head back once more.

His strong hands gently gathered my hair.

Slide.

Stroke.

Pat.

He sandwiched my hair between both palms, rubbing it carefully so the fragrant oil would penetrate every strand.

The soft scent of roses gradually filled the bathroom.

His graceful movements rivaled those of an expensive luxury salon.

Soon, he wrapped my hair neatly in a warm towel and helped lift my head.

“Finished.”

At last, I was released from his hands.

Ah… that felt wonderful.

Then—

Splash!

Without saying a word, he climbed into the bathtub.

Water surged over the sides under his weight.

“Eep.”

I quickly bent my outstretched legs, pulling my knees up against my chest.

The bathtub, which had seemed spacious when I was alone, suddenly felt much too small.

“So?”

“What did you think of the demon race’s tradition?”

“I liked it.”

He asked casually, so I answered just as casually.

He scooped water into his palm and poured it over his chest before washing his face.

Bubble… bubble…

The situation was unbearably awkward.

Fortunately, a thick layer of bubbles floated between us.

“Well then… shall we begin with your arms?”

“No, thank you.”

“…?”

“I’ll consider your obligation fulfilled.”

“I suppose that’s for the best. If I insist too much and drive you into making another reckless choice…”

His elbow rested lazily against the edge of the tub.

“…!”

He knew all along?

I suddenly became fully alert.

“I’d rather our Theodore didn’t lose another stepmother.”

“Ah…”

I remembered Theodore dozing off with a fork still clutched in his tiny hand.

A five-year-old child who still needed a mother’s warmth more than anything.

The boy who had never once complained despite being surrounded by adults, quietly smiling the entire time.

Only after Gerald’s declaration had he finally been able to fall asleep peacefully in his own bedroom.

Thinking about him made me feel ashamed.

To me, these people had once been nothing more than fictional characters.

But today was their reality.

Their lives deserved respect.

For the first time, Theodore’s childhood—spent under constant threat of death—felt undeniably real.

I also remembered the concern in his eyes when he’d noticed my injured hand in the bridal waiting room.

My chest tightened.

“How much does Theodore know about his parents’ deaths?”

“Hmm… He believes Lady Xenia and Count Kyle died heroic deaths fighting in the Demon Realm.”

“I see. Does he call her ‘Mother Xenia’?”

“He does. Since Count Kyle was his biological father but he’s expected to call me Father, he says ‘Father Kyle,’ ‘Mother Xenia,’ and ‘Father Gerald.'”

“Then… do you think he’ll call me ‘Mother Sinclair’?”

“That’s entirely up to Theodore.”

“I see…”

I’ll earn that title somehow.

Perhaps my determination showed too clearly.

“You don’t need to work so hard to win Theodore’s heart. As long as you keep your promise and don’t try anything foolish.”

“Anything foolish…”

He was referring to whatever scheme the Owen family had been plotting.

“I’ll stop every foolish scheme there is. I’m his only mother now. I’ll become his shield… and his spear… so that the Young Lord grows into the greatest man in the Empire.”

That’s right.

Because if the Empire falls… I die too.

“…”

He looked at me silently before turning away.

Did I overdo it?

Well…

It was still too early for him to trust me completely.

Creak.

The bathroom door opened.

A woman’s voice came from the dim entrance.

“Your Grace, His Majesty the Emperor and the High Priest request that you proceed with the wedding-night verification ceremony.”

“I understand.”

Gerald answered briefly.

Only after the maid left did I finally look around.

There was no one else.

We had truly been alone the entire time.

Can that really be?

This was the Grand Duke’s private bath.

Even if this cleansing ritual was considered sacred…

“There are no guards. No maids. No servants.”

“…I thought you’d feel uncomfortable.”

“…!”

Splash.

“Oh!”

Apparently he was rather impatient.

Despite standing only a short distance away, he’d risen in one smooth motion.

I instinctively covered my eyes with both hands.

Yet I couldn’t help peeking through the gaps between my fingers.

His broad back.

The perfectly sculpted muscles.

Firm, rounded hips.

Powerful thighs.

Even his calves looked like they had been carved by an artist.

Every muscle flowed together with breathtaking harmony.

My face burned.

I hurriedly looked away.

His footsteps echoed.

He walked farther and farther away.

Phew…

Leaning back in the tub, I gazed through the wide-open window at the violet full moon hanging over the Demon Realm.

I wish I could just fall asleep like this.

The bathroom had become wonderfully quiet.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the comforting warmth.

Then—

“Aren’t you getting out, my lady?”

“…?”

I looked up at Gerald.

“Weren’t you leaving?”

“We still need to finish. You shouldn’t catch a cold.”

He held out a towel.

“Ah…”

But I couldn’t simply stand up.

Even with the bathrobe on, the wet fabric would cling tightly to my body.

Perhaps he understood my hesitation.

He unfolded the towel with a snap and deliberately turned his head away.

Carefully, I stood up, accepted the towel, and wrapped it around myself beneath my arms.

He extended his hand.

I willingly took it and stepped out of the bathtub.

Then—

My foot slipped.

My body lurched violently.

Thinking I was about to crash onto the floor, I squeezed my eyes shut.

Thud.

Instead of pain…

Warmth settled around my shoulders.

Strong arms supported me.

I slowly opened my eyes.

At some point, I had ended up completely cradled in his embrace.

“Th-Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Without setting me down, he simply continued walking toward the exit.

“I’m fine now. You can put me down.”

His firm arms didn’t budge.

“Please put me down.”

“I can’t. The floor is slippery with soap and shampoo.”

“I don’t fall that easily.”

“Heh. Are you sure about that?”

Excuse me?

Is he underestimating me?

“No, put me down.”

“…”

Oh?

This kind of treatment won’t do.

I had to establish dominance now, or this would keep happening.

THUD!

THUD! THUD!

Dull impacts echoed throughout the bathroom.

I had headbutted him squarely in the chin.