We're Married, After All - Chapter 14
When I opened my eyes, it was early dawn. My mind felt clear, as though the drowsiness brought on by the alcohol had vanished along with the effects of the drink.
In the dim light, I looked around. I was alone in bed. Judging by the fact that I was lying in a bathrobe, I must have fallen asleep while bathing. The maids had likely dressed me afterward.
The thick bathrobe was securely fastened at the front, and the sheets were fresh and crisp. There was no lingering warmth or sensation in my lower abdomen. Nothing had happened after I’d fallen asleep.
I tilted my head back to look toward the window. Time had passed, and the sky outside was beginning to lighten.
Against the backdrop of the fading night, my husband stood.
There he was, standing by the window with his eyes closed. His blond hair, usually neatly combed back, fell across his forehead, and the long lashes of his closed eyes cast delicate shadows over his cheeks.
He looked so beautiful, almost reverent.
At first, I thought he was praying. If not for the way his hands rested still on the windowsill, I might have continued to believe that.
How long had I been watching him? Before I knew it, my lips moved of their own accord.
“Don’t you pray anymore these days?”
Slowly, Danel turned to look at me. His violet eyes were calm, without the slightest ripple. It seemed he already knew I was awake.
“No, not anymore. It has no meaning now.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m probably going to hell.”
With those words, Danel walked toward the bed. The dawn light streaming through the window silhouetted him, casting his face in shadow. His eyes, fixed on me, gleamed darkly, like anchors sunk deep into the abyss. In the lightning world, he alone seemed left behind by the night.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
“Ah… it’s just a little cold.”
“Shall I have tea brought up? There should still be someone in the dining hall.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just… I’ve gotten used to not sleeping alone anymore.”
I pulled the blanket off my chest and gestured to the empty space beside me, silently inviting him to sit.
The cold dawn air spilled over my legs. Though I waited for a while, he didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze lingered on me, his violet eyes dark and intense.
In the silence, Danel studied me. His eyes roamed over my damp, tousled brown hair, my sleepy green eyes, and the exposed nape of my neck and the curve of my chest visible through the gap in my bathrobe.
His gaze trailed downward.
…
My thighs twitches involuntarily, as if his eyes alone were caressing me. Deeper inside, the walls that had embraced him every night without fail tingled faintly.
But once again, Danel chose a course of action I hadn’t anticipated.
“I’ll… call a maid.”
The taut silence broke with an audible snap. Danel let out a rough breath and took a step back. Even from a glance, it was clear his trousers were straining, swollen to the point of almost bursting.
“I’ll have a maid bring some tea. Herbal tea should suffice,” he said, his words deliberate and measured, as if forcing them out. Then he turned and left the bedroom.
I watched him retreating back before burying my face into the pillow.
Running away again.
…
Pausing by the window, I looked back toward the mansion. The sun, painting the sky a vivid blue, poured its light into the third-floor study. Beyond the window, I could see rows of books tightly packed into shelves, the dimly lit interior, and an empty chair. It was Danel’s sanctuary.
Ever since that day, Danel had locked himself in the study all day long. He didn’t appear for meals, nor did he return to the bedroom. The curtains drawn over the study’s windows hadn’t been opened even once—not while I was in the backyard, at least.
It was almost laughable, honestly. That such a large man had chosen such a small space to hide in. Yet, I found myself continually glancing in that direction.
Staring up at the study window made me feel utterly pathetic, and today was no different. I woke in the morning to find the bedroom empty as always, ate breakfast alone, carried my javelins to the backyard, and occasionally glanced up at the study. The day followed its usual routine, except for one small difference: Danel had gone out, and the curtains on the study windows had been drawn back completely.
But as I picked up the last javelin, an impulse struck me.
My husband wasn’t home today. He likely wouldn’t return until the evening. In that case…
Holding the javelins close to my chest, I headed toward the mansion. The back door was deserted. Perhaps the maids hadn’t come to greet me because I’d returned much earlier than usual.
Thanks to that, I ascended the stairs without interruption. The house was quiet; no one seemed to notice my early return. I passed the second floor, where my room was, and climbed up to the third.
The hallway was silent, devoid of any sign of life. The familiar scent lingering in the dark corridor caught my attention—an aroma of golden chamomile oil, mixed with wax, used in the candles burned here. It was a faint floral scent that clung to Danel, who didn’t wear cologne. It was unmistakably his scent.
A wry chuckle escaped me. I felt like a foolish child, unable to control my impulses. As if throwing javelins or riding horses wasn’t enough to vent my frustrations, I was now tracing memories through his scent.
Still, I followed the impulse and walked down the hallway. When I opened the door at the end, the scent grew stronger.
Strangely, it gave me a sense of relief.
I took my time scanning the study. It had been a long time since I’d last come here. I had little interest in reading, and this room was essentially Danel’s office. I hadn’t set foot in it since shortly after arriving at LaFechia Castle.
Back then, I had to at least pretend to be holding a book.
I smirked faintly at the memory.
