We're Married, After All - Chapter 26
My fiancé had been a fragile man. Both his body and mind were far too weak to shoulder the responsibilities and status assigned to him.
Everyone, from his family to casual acquaintances in high society, knew this. But Petios himself never fully accepted it. Whenever his frailty became a burden, Petios clung desperately to his pride.
Under normal circumstances, he would have let things slide, but instead, he became overly sensitive and angry.
This led to several troublesome incidents. He once attended a riding club event, only to fall off a horse that someone else had to help him mount. Another time, he escalated a situation by treating someone excessively rudely, resulting in a massive argument.
Despite his fragile body, Petios was sharp enough to predict the outcomes of his actions. Yet he seemed to think getting entangled in another mess was preferable to admitting his own weakness.
Naturally, Petios became a frequent target for those who enjoyed tormenting him. The challenge to a duel by one of his longtime rivals was just another example of this.
It was an act of cowardice, plain and simple. Petios had suffered a riding accident only four months prior, and his broken wrist hadn’t fully healed. He couldn’t hold reins properly, let alone mount a horse.
For his honor—and my own as his betrothed—I stepped forward to accept the challenge on his behalf.
If the opponent had been honorable, he would have withdrawn his challenge the moment I offered to act as a substitute. But he wasn’t. He was a coward who underestimated me and had no intention of missing the opportunity to insult both Petios and myself.
Even as he mounted his horse, the man never imagined he would lose. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of how he could humiliate Petios Veloce, who had sent his fiancée to fight in his place, and Laurea Temesio, the girl who thought a few hunting lessons from her brothers were enough to substitute for a knight’s training.
So distracted was he by these thoughts that he failed to notice I had mounted my horse not with a lance but with a javelin.
As soon as the match began, I threw the first javelin at his horse’s field of vision. Spooked, the horse reared up on its hind legs. Without missing a beat, I threw another, causing the horse to cry out and bolt from the arena. Amid the commotion, the man was thrown from his saddle.
While he rolled across the ground in a heap, I picked up my final javelin. How I would finish the duel was entirely up to me.
How to end it had already been decided. All that remained was waiting for the right moment.
The man soon stood up, his gaze fixating on the lance that had fallen to the ground. He was likely seething, ready to skewer me at the first opportunity.
I threw the javelin I was holding. Its sharp tip cut through the air in a perfect arc.
Thunk!
With a clean, piercing sound, the javelin embedded itself into the ground. The man froze, his eyes dropping to check between his legs. Following the trajectory of the thrown javelin and the rip in his pants at the crotch, he finally understood. The close miss had grazed him by a hair’s breadth. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, trembling. Between his limp legs, a stream of liquid began to flow.
It was my decisive victory.
To protect the man’s dignity—after he not only challenged an injured Petios to a duel but also lost miserably to an unknighted woman—what happened that day was kept a secret.
Later, the man died suddenly at the center of a party, coughing up blood. That left little opportunity for anyone to bring up the incident again. It was only because it had been one of the rare occasions I attended a party alongside Danel and the Veloce family that I even remembered the event. Had it not been for that, I might have completely forgotten both that day and the man himself.
Now, as I tossed and turned on an unfamiliar bed, that memory unexpectedly came back to me.
Could that have been the first time Petios thought he couldn’t go through with marrying me?
I slowly sat up. The moonlight streaming through the window was bright enough to light the room like a lamp, likely because the estate was built at such a high altitude. It made falling asleep nearly impossible.
Still, the thoughtfulness of the Rodio Baron and Baroness, who had offered me the best room, hadn’t gone unappreciated.
I quietly looked down at the man sleeping beside me. The moonlight cast a shadow across the bridge of his nose. The high, straight line flowed into firmly set lips and a strong, well-defined jaw, creating an elegant silhouette.
It was as if the night had poured its heart into creating a masterpiece. His face was so beautiful it could take one’s breath away.
I traced the boundary between shadow and skin with my fingertips. His warmth traveled from my index finger, spreading through my arm.
Even though I had suffered from insomnia my entire life, I had rarely seen Danel asleep. Of course, given that I had spent most of our marriage drugged into slumber, it made sense. But even apart from that, Danel seemed to sleep far too little.
Slowly, I pressed my fingers against his lips, attempting to lift the corners into a smile. No matter how much I tried, though, I couldn’t replicate the expression he had shown earlier, thanks to his tightly closed mouth.
That face… the one he made while gently smiling, as if he had just seen the most beautiful thing in the world, even while talking about a time when someone had likely resolved to run away from me.
Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered, and Danel grabbed my hand. The next moment, he tugged firmly, pulling me down onto his chest.
Sorry, I woke you up.
“It’s fine,” Danel replied in a hushed voice. The deep, low tone sent a chill down my spine. Beneath his crisp, perfectly pressed shirt, I could feel the heat rising from his body.
Soon, his violet eyes emerged from beneath his half-lidded gaze, still heavy with sleep. He scanned my face quietly.
“You haven’t slept at all. Would you like some warm milk?”
“No, it’s okay. I just…”
I stumbled over my words awkwardly.
I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth—that it was because tonight, the overwhelming passion that had left me unconscious every night hadn’t consumed me.
