We're Married, After All - Chapter 45
In the end, Danel kept silent. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, worried that whatever he said might make Laurea uncomfortable.
“Danel.”
Thankfully, Laurea spoke first.
“A walk might be okay. How about that? Or… should we prepare for a picnic instead? We’ve never done that together before, have we?”
Her expression was familiar. It was one he had often seen when she was younger—a desperate look she wore when trying to avoid a more uncomfortable situation by choosing something safe, albeit uneasy.
“….”
Danel slowly nodded. Seeing Laurea relieved by his agreement gave him a sense of certainty. Just as he had tried to prepare something she might enjoy, Laurea, too, seemed to have chosen an option she thought he would like.
The impromptu picnic turned out surprisingly well. Sitting under the shade of a tree and enjoying some refreshments made even the humid air feel pleasantly atmospheric.
However, they didn’t stay seated for long. After nibbling on a few snacks, Laurea mentioned wanting to take a short walk. Naturally, Danel agreed.
Leaving the remaining food on the picnic blanket, Danel and Laurea strolled along a path lined with trees providing cool shade. Laurea’s steps were unusually light, as if she were in high spirits, buoyed by the early summer air.
Laurea loved outdoor activities, especially during late spring and summer, when she could breathe in the lush scent of blooming greenery. At the Marquisate of Temesio, located near cold regions, summer was a fleeting season, making it all the more cherished.
In contrast, Danel simply loved whatever Laurea loved.
It wasn’t a particularly difficult thing to do. After all, Laurea didn’t have a long list of favorites. Moreover, liking summer required little effort—it was just a matter of enduring the sensation of sweat soaking through his shirt.
The harder part was figuring out exactly what Laurea liked.
“Even after a lifetime of watching her,” Danel thought with a self-deprecating smile.
He couldn’t pinpoint when it had started, but at least since the time when Laurea didn’t yet know how to steady a lance, Danel had been watching her.
At first, he remembered, it was out of admiration. But eventually, her joy became his, and when her despair began to hurt him, he realized it had turned into love.
So, how could it not make him happy to match his steps to hers? Even as sweat dampened his back and his shirt clung to his skin, there was no way he would give up the sight of Laurea’s soft, brown hair fluttering gently in the breeze.
And then Laurea stopped walking. Danel’s gaze followed her green eyes.
Between the bushes was a relatively tall shrub. Its branches, reaching up to their waists, were laden with clusters of small, red berries. Their richly ripened flesh gave off a sweet aroma.
“Currant berries,” Danel said.
“Is that so? It looks a bit different from the currants I know… the size, the color,” Laurea remarked.
“The trees that produce black currants are more resilient to cold. Their berries are larger too,” Danel explained.
“Then, can you eat these as well?” Laurea asked, staring at the bright red fruit with a curious gaze. Danel found her expression so endearing that he hesitated for a moment—he knew the answer might disappoint her.
“They are edible,” he began cautiously, “but they are less sweet and much tarter than black currants…”
Before he could finish, Laurea’s green eyes sparkled with intrigue, catching him off guard.
“…They’re far more tart than you might imagine, Laurea,” he added, trying to temper her curiosity.
Her reaction was unexpected. Laurea was particularly sensitive to sour flavors, disliking even fruits with a relatively high sweetness, like strawberries or raspberries. Red currants, known for their pronounced tartness, seemed like something she wouldn’t enjoy. Yet, somehow, they had piqued her interest.
However, any sense of unease Danel felt quickly faded into the background. It wasn’t often that Laurea showed such curiosity, and he wasn’t about to let overthinking ruin the moment.
Danel crouched by the shrub, carefully inspecting the clusters of berries. He selected the plumpest and ripest ones, their bright red hue shining in the dappled light, and placed them in Laurea’s open palm. A sweet-and-sour aroma wafted gently from the small fruits.
As though entranced by the scent, Laurea picked one and popped it into her mouth. The moment the juice burst onto her tongue, her normally impassive face crumpled into a grimace.
Danel couldn’t hold back his laughter.
“I did warn you—they’re quite tart,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.
“…You didn’t warn me it would be bitter on top of sour,” Laurea grumbled, her usually composed face twisting with an uncharacteristic range of expressions. Watching her, Danel stood up and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.
His warm tongue swept through her mouth, gathering every trace of the tart fruit, the sharp juice lingering on her tongue, and even the saliva pooling in her mouth. The intensity of his kiss made Laurea drop the remaining berries she was holding, but neither of them seemed to care.
Laurea exhaled a shaky breath. Thanks to Danel’s persistent kiss, the bitter and sour remnants of the fruit were completely gone, replaced by her own sweetness. Even the excess saliva had been swallowed by him, leaving none behind.
Still, Danel didn’t pull away immediately. He continued to explore her mouth with a thoroughness that left her breathless. By the time he finally broke the kiss, there was no trace of the red currant—only the faint, summery aroma of sweet and tart fruits mingling with Laurea’s natural scent.
“I think we should head back to our spot,” Danel said smoothly. “It would be a good idea to finish the tea we left behind.”
“Mm… okay,” Laurea replied in a quiet voice.
After returning to their picnic spot, the mood remained pleasant. All in all, Danel and Laurea spent a fulfilling and happy day together.
Yet, Danel couldn’t shake off the moment of dissonance they’d shared at the currant bush. The odd feeling of something being slightly off lingered in his mind. It was subtle but undeniable—a sensation that something fundamental was amiss.
The true nature of this unease only became clear to him a few days later.
