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Chapter 45
“Yeah.”
Bellaksina let out a hollow sigh and nodded.
“I’ve decided to stop being stubborn. I’m not an idiot either. I’ve known from the beginning that, given my situation, there’s no better position for me than becoming the Marchioness. I knew that much.”
[And knowing that, how could you…?]
“Don’t start.”
When Bellaksina glared, the system quickly lowered its gaze.
Ever since she had threatened to use the grimoire as firewood, the system had become noticeably more obedient.
“I didn’t give up on revenge. I’m just planning to take it slowly.”
Bellaksina lay down on the bed and stared at the ripples of fabric gathering inside the canopy. Like those folds converging toward the center from all directions, she believed that as long as she didn’t lose her direction, she would eventually reach what she wanted.
Click.
At that moment, the door opened and Avelkin entered.
Bellaksina propped herself up with her arm and looked at him standing at the doorway.
“What brings you here?”
Avelkin looked slightly flustered and muttered, “Ah, right…” before scratching the back of his neck.
“I… forgot I let you out.”
His reason for coming was transparent. Especially considering it was dinner time. Bellaksina smiled as if she had caught him.
“You came to feed me?”
Faced with the unavoidable implication, Avelkin nodded helplessly.
“I should go back. You shouldn’t have any trouble eating on your own now.”
But just then, Ingrid arrived with the meal cart and paused, looking between them.
“Are you two not eating here today?”
Before Avelkin could respond, Bellaksina said,
“No. Bring it in.”
“What?”
“Since Ingrid already went through the trouble, let’s eat together just for today.”
At Bellaksina’s words, Avelkin awkwardly asked,
“…Is that alright?”
They had been eating together every meal for days anyway—it wasn’t as if it was new.
Soon, the table was set, and Ingrid left as she always did, giving the two their “private meal.”
She probably didn’t know this was the first time her idea of a “peaceful meal” was actually true.
“Eat.”
Avelkin sat across from her and lifted his utensils with stiff movements.
Only then did Bellaksina realize this situation was neither as ordinary nor as familiar as she had assumed. Even before her confinement, they had eaten together—but at opposite ends of a long table where they had to raise their voices just to communicate.
Now, they were so close that their knees could almost touch.
‘This is a bit awkward.’
Bellaksina picked at her food, sneaking glances at Avelkin. He seemed just as uncomfortable.
“Hmm. About tomorrow… is everything prepared without issues?”
“The wedding?”
Avelkin coughed and nodded.
Bellaksina thought for a moment and answered.
“I heard from Margareta that everything is proceeding without delay. They say it’s already perfect—ready to proceed immediately if a bishop-level priest is present.”
Avelkin already knew that much.
What he was really asking wasn’t that.
“And the schedule for tomorrow—you’re familiar with it?”
Avelkin cut into his steak and took a bite as Bellaksina rolled her eyes and recalled.
“Yes. I’m to finish getting ready in the morning, then there’s a parade through the square. In the afternoon, we go to the church to sign the marriage contract. After that, the bishop performs the wedding rite, and then there’s a banquet and ball in the inner courtyard.”
“And after that?”
‘After that?’
Bellaksina tilted her head. Wasn’t that the end of a wedding?
Unless they expected a honeymoon on a tight budget.
Seeing her silence, Avelkin spoke first.
“In Yeshken, it’s called the Consummation.”
“Consummation?”
“So it’s your first time hearing it.”
Bellaksina nodded.
Avelkin avoided her gaze and continued carefully, circling around the subject.
“In the eastern continent, it’s called Prima Nocte. In the west, Nuit de Noces.”
“There are a lot of names.”
“In the central and southern regions, they call it the Bed Chamber Ceremony.”
At that, Bellaksina’s eyes brightened.
She recognized that term.
Avelkin noticed her reaction and leaned slightly forward.
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Ah…”
Bellaksina pressed her lips together and nodded.
The Bed Chamber Ceremony.
In Yeshken it was called Consummation, but elsewhere it went by many names. In essence, it meant the same thing: the first night—the physical union of a married couple.
“Is there any issue?”
Bellaksina hesitated and looked at Avelkin with a slightly uneasy expression.
Avelkin sighed softly, as if expecting this.
“I understand you might need time to prepare. I’m not going to rush you. Some regions even require the bedsheets to be publicly inspected, but in Yeshken, they don’t strictly judge the authenticity of consummation.”
“I see?”
“That’s surprising?”
“Honestly, yes. I thought it would be the opposite.”
Avelkin nodded.
“Your reasoning isn’t wrong. Most Yeshken couples consider consummation more important than the ceremony itself. But the lord’s household is an exception.”
“Why?”
Bellaksina looked puzzled.
Avelkin explained calmly.
“Unicorn beastfolk can only reproduce through relations with a pure virgin. Do you understand what that implies?”
“Eh? Well…”
Bellaksina tilted her head in confusion.
Why was he suddenly talking about unicorn beastfolk?
Seeing her still lost, Avelkin hesitated for a moment before speaking clearly.
“Immediate pregnancy on the first night.”
“…!”
Bellaksina’s face flushed bright red.
Avelkin coughed awkwardly and raised his silver wine glass, drinking to avoid eye contact.
Bellaksina followed suit for the same reason.
Why did this topic have to come up while they were sitting this close?
“…So, in that sense, the lord’s household does have some autonomy regarding the Consummation.”
“I-I see.”
An awkward silence fell.
“B-but still, we will have to sleep in the same bed.”
“Y-yes, that’s true.”
Another silence.
Both silently hoped the topic would never return, but the word “Consummation” kept looping in their minds.
‘I’m going to die of embarrassment…!’
Bellaksina felt like she was drowning.
Fortunately, Avelkin broke the silence first.
“By the way, a telegram arrived from Mirnovo Station. Sir Aurelio has arrived. It seems he’ll make it to Yeshken before the wedding.”
“That’s a relief. The expenses must have been enormous.”
Avelkin nodded.
“Indeed. If things had changed suddenly in Mantova or the contract wasn’t fulfilled on time, Yeshken would have gone bankrupt.”
From the way he spoke, it was clear he had been quietly suffering stress all along.
With the entire territory’s survival at stake, it was inevitable.
“Don’t worry. He’s not someone who plays games without profit.”
“You trust Sir Aurelio?”
“Him? Are you crazy? That idiot? I trust Duke Giovanni.”
“…I see. That makes sense.”
Avelkin had no choice but to agree.
Giovanni Desiderio de Mantova.
Even the central nobility, who usually dismissed western lords, had to acknowledge his name. During his rule, he had increased the region’s income dozens of times over. A living legend of the west.
That was Duke Giovanni.
They say there’s already a biography of him in Mantova.
“He’s not someone who would ruin noble trust over something like this. Even if it were a scam, he’d probably treat it as Sir Aurelio’s tuition fee and fulfill the contract anyway.”
“So the rumors about his stinginess were false, huh.”
