The Camellia Tattoo - Chapter 65
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
this book is completely translated on luna kofi (advanced chapters for the website will follow)
So, it’s difficult to explain, but it’s not that he doesn’t want to do it. He has been feeling a subtle arousal from earlier until now, but it feels like that’s not all there is to it.
‘I should have read a book or something.’
He felt frustrated not being able to fully articulate his feelings.
Igmeyer scratched the back of his head and let out a deep sigh.
In his hand were two cool glasses of beer.
“Here you go.”
“Ah! Beer!”
“This time it’s grapefruit beer. It’s got grapefruit syrup in it. Try it. It should be good.”
“Okay!”
They were now sitting at one of the tables spread out in the square, downing their eighth glass of beer.
Surprisingly, while Amber was weak with other liquors, she had a strong tolerance for beer.
‘She looks beautiful.’
Sipping his beer, Igmeyer glanced at Amber.
Her face flushed with warmth and her plump lips posed a dangerously enticing stimulus.
Naturally, other men couldn’t keep their eyes off her, but the guards discreetly handled them before Igmeyer had to step in.
All this was done without Amber noticing.
“Hey, Igmeyer.”
That’s when Amber softly called him.
Slightly swaying with a bit of drunkenness now, contrasting sharply with her usual upright demeanor, she was unbearably cute. Igmeyer exerted all his strength not to smash the wooden table.
“I didn’t know I could be friends with you like this. To be this… tender.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah. I’ve learned… that being friends with your husband is the best thing.”
“Huh?”
What kind of madman puts so much effort into being just friends?
Yet, Igmeyer listened quietly without interrupting her. He didn’t want to stop the flow of her inner thoughts that were difficult to hear.
“I really like being out here with you. I hope we can do this more often. If possible, visit even more places…”
Amber, clutching her beer glass with both hands, gave a bright smile. It was a beautiful smile that tugged at his heart.
‘Ah… which madman treats a friend with such heart-fluttering affection?’
Igmeyer let out a forced laugh and then downed the rest of his beer in one go.
That was enough drinking for now. Any more, and Amber might truly become drunk. There were still more things he had prepared for the night.
The night was long, and there were spectacular sights to be seen only after dark.
“Let’s go see the moon, Amber.”
“The moon?”
“The night lake.”
Freyja Lake, fittingly a landmark of the North, had its own legend of love: a kiss under the crescent moon at the lake promised that love would flourish.
Igmeyer had always thought such legends were foolish. How could love be determined by whether it was a crescent or a full moon?
‘Still, that was the plan.’
* * *
Splash, splash.
The sound of the water lapping against the rowboat was serene.
Igmeyer, having stepped down to the damp shore first, easily lifted Amber into the rowboat, careful not to let her feet get muddy.
Then after getting on board, he took up the oars and rowed vigorously toward the center of the lake.
“Wow…!”
As expected, Amber gasped at the sight of the moon’s reflection on the water.
“It’s so beautiful. Everyone must have come out to see this!”
“Something like that.”
The lake was dotted with several boats, each with its own pair or hopeful lovers. Or maybe someone they wanted to be a lover with.
Though it was said that couples seldom came here after becoming husband and wife, what did that matter?
Igmeyer was immensely satisfied to show Amber this scene, especially since the moon shone so brightly on the water tonight.
“Thank you for showing me this, Igmeyer.”
“If I’d known you’d like it this much, I would have brought you out here sooner.”
Muttering softly, Igmeyer set down the oars and pulled Amber close to lean against him. She relaxed into him. Her breath carried the faint scent of the grapefruit beer she drank.
He was pleased by the scent, so Igmeyer kissed her forehead. Soon, the sound of kisses echoed from around them. Others in nearby boats were also engaging in displays of affection.
Chirp, chirp.
The lakeside insects sang loudly, and lovers whispered to each other.
Holding the warm Amber, Igmeyer eventually spoke softly.
“I’m jealous.”
“Huh?”
“That guy.”
Igmeyer found his arm muscles tensing without reason, baffled by his own jealousy as he spoke.
“I don’t like it when you’re with him.”
“Um. You mean Nicholas?”
“I hate it when you smile at him too.”
To be clear, Igmeyer wasn’t drunk. Not in the slightest.
But he pretended to be, leaning on the alcohol as an excuse. He wanted to be honest.
Even if it seemed petty… but it was the truth.
Given the chance, Igmeyer would gladly pick up Nicholas and bury him in the snow, face-first, and deeply at that.
