A Way to Confirm Your Husband’s True Feelings - Chapter 25
Beatrice glanced over at her husband, who still wasn’t meeting her eyes.
Since it was a formal occasion, Caesar too was dressed more formally than usual. From head to toe, he wore an outfit Beatrice had personally selected. His overall attire was a dark blue dress uniform, with a cravat that matched the color of her gown serving as a highlight.
“You look perfect, too.”
Beatrice spoke with a seemingly warm smile. But her gaze soon returned to the window outside the carriage.
As he had said, she was indeed dressed rather extravagantly today. Even considering it was an imperial banquet, she had gone a bit overboard. Naturally, it was because of Caesar.
She had hoped that if she dressed beautifully, he might at least glance her way once more. That even if she was an annoying, bothersome wife, he might still see her as a woman whose appearance was worth something.
Though she heard the compliment she had wanted—“You look beautiful”—it didn’t make her particularly happy. Because apart from that, Caesar was no different than usual.
She no longer even knew exactly what it was she wanted from him, what kind of reaction she hoped for. But one thing was certain, that her husband still hadn’t broken free from his rigid frame. What she wanted was something more primal, more genuine, a violent emotion that couldn’t be held back and simply burst forth.
How had her feelings become this twisted? To the point she couldn’t even accept it at face value when her husband told her she was beautiful.
At this point, she even resented herself for having chased after him that morning and overhearing that conversation.
If only she’d remained in the dark. Then she could have lived forever, believing he loved her, and stayed happy.
If that had been the case, this first official event as a married couple wouldn’t have felt so dry and lifeless.
She might have fussed over him from early morning, gently smoothing his hair herself. Even after leaving the estate, she would’ve continued adjusting his clothes, brushing off invisible dust from his shoulders as she clung to his arm with affection.
She might’ve even teased him inside the carriage. If things hadn’t turned out like this between them, she would’ve pestered him as much as she pleased—climbing into his lap, tugging at the tightly tied cravat to steal a kiss. And then he, pretending to give in to his childish wife, would’ve returned the kiss eagerly, so absorbed they wouldn’t have noticed the carriage had arrived at its destination.
No, perhaps now she had to say pretended to be absorbed.
Thinking back on all her shameless behavior, she almost felt like she could understand how Caesar might have felt.
But still, she had truly… believed it was love.
Could she really never act affectionately toward him like that again? Just the thought made her chest ache, and her expression darkened. Her carefully applied makeup was now wasted. Her face looked like that of the most miserable woman in the world.
“…Beatrice. I asked you a few days ago, but are you truly alright?”
Just as she wondered if he had noticed her expression, he spoke again.
If she turned her head, he would likely drop his gaze again to avoid meeting her eyes.
It had always been like that, but still, she had no idea what he was really thinking.
“You keep asking, and now I’m the one getting worried. Do I really look like something’s wrong? I guess when you said I looked pretty, that must’ve been a lie.”
Maybe it was because she was feeling overly sensitive, but her response came out more pointed than intended.
“That’s not it. It’s just… your expression looked so dark…”
“The travel fatigue is lasting longer than I expected. I just still feel a little worn out, that’s all.”
“If that’s the case, wouldn’t it have been better for you to rest instead?”
“No matter what, I couldn’t possibly miss the imperial banquet. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I came to the capital just for this.”
At those words, Beatrice smiled sweetly.
Caesar said nothing more after that.
As she fell silent, the conversation came to a halt.
Back in their territory, sweet moments used to overflow whenever they traveled by carriage. As newlyweds seated close together in the small space, they used to chat fondly without pause, never letting go of each other’s hands.
Comparing that happy past to now made her feel even worse. Caesar, too, must have been affected by her mood. His face remained stiff throughout the ride.
Shouldn’t he be glad that his bothersome wife had grown so quiet? Beatrice thought bitterly.
Just like when they got on, the two sat in silence as the carriage carried them to the entrance of the imperial palace. They arrived half an hour later.
