🔊 TTS Settings
~Chapter 95~
Ethan met Riden’s eyes for a brief moment, then looked away with a casual expression.
“There are still some old things here from when William and I used this room—dispose of them however you want.”
“….”
“A new Duke and Duchess will be living here soon, after all. I’ve already kept it empty for a long time.”
Samantha’s gaze lingered fondly on each item in the room before she turned to the two of them.
She stepped closer and gently took both of their hands.
“Take your time decorating it together until autumn comes.”
Then she let go of Ethan’s hand and clasped both of Riden’s.
“Ethan probably won’t involve himself much, so you’ll end up doing most of it.”
“….”
“I can’t believe I have a daughter-in-law.”
After Riden accepted Ethan’s proposal, it wasn’t long before they told Samantha and Merrick the news.
At first, Samantha had blinked in disbelief—then Riden remembered the elegant smile slowly spreading across her face.
“Is this… really decided?”
Samantha’s usually steady, clear voice had trembled slightly when she asked.
She had embraced Riden carefully, as if holding something precious.
Now, standing hand in hand, both of them recalled that day in silence.
Ethan finally broke it.
“If you’d step out, Mother, we’ll discuss how to decorate the room.”
Zing!
Samantha shot him a glare.
“Fine. I’ve already allocated the budget—ask the butler. And if it’s not enough, just say so.”
Click.
When she left, quiet settled over the vast room.
The Duke and Duchess’s bedroom was so large and silent that even the smallest sounds were clear.
Riden sighed lightly and looked up at Ethan.
“Um…”
His black eyes shifted at her voice.
“When we get married, we can share the room—but let’s have two beds.”
“….”
“It’s a contract marriage, after all.”
Even without the original heroine in the picture, the painful memory of a husband’s betrayal didn’t disappear.
Trusting someone was still frightening and difficult—especially if that someone was a husband.
Trusting meant giving them the right to hurt her.
Once was enough for the experience of loving, trusting, and being betrayed.
Even if she came to trust someone deeply, she couldn’t show it—because once it showed, it became a weakness.
That’s why she needed the safety net of a “contract” before she could walk the wedding aisle again.
“I know it’s a contract marriage.”
Ethan quietly nodded in agreement.
Contract or not, what mattered to him was that she’d stay by his side.
“Thank you… Ah!”
As she spoke, an idea came to her and she turned toward him.
“There’s something we need to do.”
“Decorating the room isn’t urgent—we can do that slowly.”
“No, not the room.”
She looked around, then pointed to the massive bed.
“Could you sit there?”
Ethan stiffened and repeated the question to confirm.
“…You just pointed at the bed?”
“Yes, that’s right!”
She glanced around again for alternatives. There were chairs, but remembering what happened last time, she was sure he’d collapse along with them.
The bed was best.
“Yes. If we both want a comfortable position, the bed is the only option.”
Riden walked over and sat down, patting the spot beside her.
“….”
Ethan frowned more than usual, as if following her so casually was difficult.
“Your Grace, your face says otherwise.”
“Is that… included in a contract marriage?”
“…??”
How could he look so hopelessly innocent?
Ethan rubbed his brow, frustrated.
The only thing a man and woman do in bed… isn’t this too bright a time of day for that?
“I just want to try something—come on.”
“Alright, then.”
She waited for him to sit beside her, ready to take his hands like last time—only for her eyes to go wide.
He was walking over while unbuttoning and shrugging off his shirt.
“Not that!!”
He tossed the shirt onto the sofa and muttered with dissatisfaction,
“If not that, then what else?”
“When there’s a full moon! You know… I’m not sure if I should call it treatment, but that thing we did.”
“Hm.”
He slipped his shirt back on before she even finished.
“I guess I should put it back on? Unless you prefer it this way—just say so.”
“Please, put it on.”
“I can’t tell if you’re good at making people misunderstand or good at ruining the mood.”
Grumbling, he buttoned up while she averted her eyes.
“I’m sorry for the useless misunderstanding—it wasn’t my intention. Not sure you’ll believe that.”
“A bit of a shame, but apology accepted.”
“Much obliged.”
She eyed him in his neatly buttoned shirt, thinking about how to start.
Last time had shown her the importance of getting the position right from the start—if he tipped over suddenly, he could get hurt.
“You wouldn’t look at me when I was undressed, but now you do?”
“Enough of that. Give me your hands.”
He obediently offered both hands.
But sitting side-by-side felt too risky—he could still topple onto her.
Hmm…
Finally, she made her request.
“Lie down.”
“….”
“Not like that! You fell on top of me last time, so just lie down from the start. Don’t startle me again.”
Ethan got onto the bed, pulled a pillow under his head, and lay flat, staring up at the canopy.
Riden stepped closer and bent over him—finding herself in an embarrassingly compromising position.
This is just the position, that’s all!
He looked up at her with an odd expression.
“Is this right?”
“Yes.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
“It’s right!”
They had to start.
“Ready?”
She wiggled her fingers to take his hands—but he spoke suddenly.
“Oh.”
“…?”
“Last time, you said you’d tie me up next time. I could scratch you again—let’s tie me, for safety.”
Her mind instantly conjured an image—him lying bound to the bed, grimacing in pain, and her clutching his hands in strain.
“That… would look really weird.”
“It’s only weird if we think it is.”
Of course, she had a clear conscience.
“Wait here.”
She spotted the perfect tool nearby—the canopy’s curtain cord. She tugged it hard; it was sturdy enough to hold even if he struggled.
“Perfect.”
“That’s… a little scary.”
“Let’s tie you up.”
“Make it tight.”
At last, preparations were complete—it had taken long enough.
She dusted off her hands and stepped toward him, then paused.
“What now?”
“Shouldn’t we lock the door? If someone comes in—”
“Wouldn’t that look more suspicious?”
Leave it open for confidence?
Close it for peace of mind?
After a moment, she decided,
“Lock it.”
“Alright.”
They were perfectly innocent, but she’d feel better that way.
Finally—finally—everything was ready.
Ethan, hands bound, nodded at her.
Riden exhaled slowly, took his hands, and—like before—breathed into them.
It wasn’t literal breath, but there was no better word for it.
It’s coming.
Just like that night, a static-like sensation sparked between their joined hands, making Ethan wince.
She kept going, and then she saw it—the same black tangle deep inside him.
The thing that writhed away from her touch, shuddering as her breath reached it.
The thing she hadn’t been able to remove last time.
The thing tormenting Ethan.
You’re the evil god Berbes, aren’t you?
Stay right there.
I’m going to make you suffer.
