We're Married, After All - Chapter 13
Clench. My grip on Danel’s solid forearm tightened. Each time I became aware of him—of his body—a faint shiver teased the insides of my thighs. The peculiar excitement that came from the awkward and uncomfortable position made my cheeks flush with heat.
When we arrived at the banquet hall, Danel pulled his arm away first. While he greeted several guests in quick succession, I made my way to the seat prepared for me.
The hall was already packed with guests. Since no one had taken their seats yet, the space felt even more crowded than usual.
Tonight’s attendees were all vassals who governed LaFechia Castle and the surrounding territories. The reason none of them had yet taken their seats, waiting instead for Danel, was clear: the hierarchy here was firmly established.
I forced myself to ignore the heat rising between my legs and watched as Danel made his way to the seat of honor.
He truly was… wasted as a monk.
Once Danel was seated, the banquet officially began. The meal, in line with the tastes of the lord who had spent many years in a monastery, was neither extravagant nor too simple—just elegantly modest.
Servants moved busily, refilling glasses of wine and spirits. As the alcohol flowed, the atmosphere grew lively, though neither Danel nor I had the kind of personality to steer the conversation. Instead, the atmosphere was led by Baron Rodio and his wife, known for their sociability. Their family managed Lamprey Castle.
Naturally, the topic of conversation turned to the recent inspections. I overheard talk of converting an almshouse in Lamprey Castle into a hospital and hiring physicians for the region.
My lackluster social skills aside, I could hardly participate in the conversation. That was because I truly had no idea about Danel’s work—he rarely shared anything about it with me.
So instead of chiming in with comments or encouragement, I simply drank.
As the lady of the house, the banquet preparations were my responsibility, and I was fully aware of the dishes and drinks being served tonight. I had even instructed a maid beforehand to ensure my glass was filled only with wine.
Since I sat quietly for most of the banquet, no one seemed to notice how much I was drinking—except for the servant carrying the wine bottle to refill glasses.
However, just as the servant approached to refill my empty glass, Danel suddenly snatched it from my hand. Leaning closer, he whispered,
“You’ve had too much, Laurea.”
“I haven’t drunk that much.”
“Wine from Penton is stronger than it looks. You’ve had more than enough.”
With that, Danel moved my glass out of my reach.
Of course, I knew this already. Penton was so cold year-round that even in summer, people had to wear long sleeves. The wine from such a place was naturally potent.
The reason I had chosen Penton wine tonight was to see how my husband—who left his traces only in places I couldn’t see—would behave if I became drunk.
But now things have taken this turn… What had I planned to do again?
Perhaps the alcohol had gotten to me, because the plan I had carefully devised earlier refused to surface in my mind. Had I intended to excuse myself to the bedroom early? Or was I going to ask Danel to escort me?
Whatever the plan was, Danel’s actions took me entirely by surprise.
Danel’s arm wrapped firmly around my waist, supporting me as he stood up from his chair. I, too, was pulled to my feet, almost dragged along in the process.
“Excuse us for a moment,” he said, offering no further explanation before escorting me out of the dining hall. His steps, half-dragging me along, felt unusually hurried. Or perhaps… it was just the alcohol affecting me.
When we began climbing the stairs, it became clear—I was dizzy. To steady myself, I leaned my head against Danel’s shoulder, trying to avoid the spinning ceiling. His shoulder stiffened immediately at the contact. Even in my intoxicated haze, I could distinctly hear the sound of him swallowing.
The warmth enveloping me was intense. The arm wrapped tightly around my waist felt like it was on fire. It was astonishing that such heat could radiate through his shirt and jacket.
I looked up at the landing ahead, my mind wandering to the thoughts I’d had while descending these same stairs earlier.
Now that I think about it, it’s undeniable—even outwardly, Danel is far too remarkable to have been a monk. He didn’t look out of place in the coarse sack-like robes of the clergy, but they didn’t suit him nearly as well as a sharply pressed suit or a suit of armor.
Or even wearing nothing at all.
“I’m feeling a little sleepy,” I murmured.
“…”
“I should lie down. Later. Wake me when you come up.”
With that, I slipped out of his arm. As I unsteadily climbed the stairs, I could feel his gaze burning into my back.
Would he understand? That I didn’t mind being woken up, as long as we didn’t skip what had become a nightly ritual. Did he realize that?
If so, what is he thinking right now?
Will he wake me tonight? If I fall deeply asleep and don’t stir, what will he do this time? Will he bite my shoulder? Or will he bury his face between my legs again?
Drip. I could feel the dampness pooling in my undergarments trickling down my thighs.
