My Favorite Smut Author Is My Husband! - Chapter 36
*Crash.*
“Why?! You can write things like this, but you don’t want to do those things with me?!”
The moment one of author ‘K’s novels, which Lily had handled so delicately, crashed to the floor in a mess, Ashulin realized he could no longer keep it a secret.
He saw the unending tears streaming from her eyes, wounded by his pretense and deception, no better than covering his face and denying the obvious.
“Say something, Ashulin!”
When had she realized that she was a reader of his work? Was it when she discovered the first edition he had deliberately hidden on the highest shelf? Or was it when he subtly hinted that he had read the books?
Unlike him, who had felt the pull of destiny from their very first meeting, she had started to recall even the fleeting instances when his words and actions didn’t match.
Perhaps that’s why he had gritted his teeth and feigned ignorance all the more.
“…What do you want me to say?”
“What?”
“You, who insisted from the very beginning on a relationship where husband and wife understand each other completely, have been lying and keeping secrets? Pretending to know nothing while writing such obscene stories? What could I possibly say to make the one I love forgive me?”
In the very beginning, he had found it fascinating and even delightful that she was one of his readers.
But that positive emotion was short-lived. As his feelings for her deepened with each passing day, he spent every night tormented by guilt.
Even with the Imperial Prince’s advice, one of the reasons he had been unable to fully embrace her was this secret.
Did a man with hidden truths deserve to hold her when she came to him with her whole heart?
“They were nothing more than crude books I wrote to relieve stress after abruptly inheriting the dukedom. When I married you, I resolved never to write again and to bury this matter forever.”
“But, Ashulin! If you had just told me honestly, I would have…!”
“But I found I couldn’t help myself. You became my muse instead. I heard you visited the bookstore and read the preview of my latest release.”
“Yes. The Imperial Duke who played a leading role in conquering the Holy Empire… taking the priestess captive and subduing her…”
Lily’s face went pale, and Ashulin noticed the change.
For Lily, her reaction was rooted in the eerie coincidence of the novel’s male protagonist also being a “duke.” It made her fear that he might desire a woman different from herself. But Ashulin, unaware of her inner turmoil, only grew darker and more somber in expression.
“That’s right. The ‘Duke’ is me, and the pure, sacred, silver-haired ‘priestess’ is you. I used you as inspiration to write an obscene novel.”
The reason the new book had been released so quickly, despite it not being long since the previous one, was precisely this. Watching her peacefully asleep in the early hours of the morning, he couldn’t suppress his emotions—or the heat building within him—and poured those feelings into his writing.
It was entirely different from the books he had previously written to relieve stress.
He projected her onto the pure priestess of the neighboring country, imagining countless acts he could never bring himself to do in reality. Even as he fantasized, he unwittingly added detailed descriptions of the heroine:
White, unblemished skin. A slender neck and delicate limbs. Clear blue eyes that seemed to wash away impure, lustful thoughts. Lustrous silver hair that shimmered in the moonlight, making her appear otherworldly and divine.
The priestess was, unmistakably, Lily.
“I… I was the inspiration for the heroine?”
“Could you still look at me the same way after reading this book? Could you live as my wife knowing the depraved fantasies I had while writing it, fantasies I intended to share with the public?”
“Why would I not? What’s wrong with me being the inspiration for your heroine? In fact, I love it. I’m both your devoted reader and the wife who loves you!”
It was precisely this side of her that made her seem like a sacred being to him.
Ashulin felt that when her long, unadorned silver hair cascaded down, shimmering in the sunlight, and her endlessly pure, sky-blue eyes gazed at him, it was as though a goddess herself had descended.
However, the reason his feelings had deepened so hopelessly while living with her was because of her bold and honest nature that directly reached his heart.
In contrast, what about Ashulin himself? The sight of him shrinking back into the shadows, desperate to hide his flaws, was nothing short of pathetic.
“No, you don’t understand, my wife.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t build walls between us, Ashulin. All I want is your honesty.”
Her expression, once filled with anger, had softened into one of earnest pleading as she clung to his arm. In that moment, it felt like she could truly understand everything.
Ashulin wanted to bare his soul to her, to confess his deepest feelings, and to give in to his desires—pulling her down and embracing her passionately. But he forced himself to hold back.
As his large hand gently removed Lily’s from his arm, he saw her eyes fill with shock once again.
“Because I love you, because I don’t want to lose you, I can’t reveal everything. Please try to understand, Lily.”
“I can’t understand.”
It seemed she was too stunned even to cry. Standing frozen, she didn’t follow as Ashulin slowly moved toward the library door. Pausing to look back at her one last time, he couldn’t meet her gaze for more than a second before dropping his eyes to the floor.
“Not understanding is perfectly normal.”
“Ashulin!”
“…No new books will be published. Please rest, Lily.”
With that, Ashulin fled out of the room.
The butler, who seemed to have followed the commotion of the Duke and Duchess, stood near the study and cast a worried glance, but Ashulin avoided his gaze and simply gave orders to the maids.
“The Duchess seems very exhausted. Take good care of her.”
The maids, bowing their heads deeply in response, entered the study. From inside, the faint sound of sobbing could be heard.
However, all Ashulin could do was flee further away, avoiding the sound of her sobs.
***
