We're Married, After All - Chapter 66
With every step, a faint movement resonated through the floor. Most of it came from the hurried footsteps of passing servants. Yet, amidst those steps, there was one vibration I recognized well.
I could almost see the precise, orderly strides heading toward this place.
I lay back down on the bed as if nothing had happened. Before long, Danel opened the door to the bedroom and entered. Drawn by the sound, I opened my eyes. Through the doorway behind him, I could see the sun-scorched corridor. Midday… or perhaps still late morning.
“You’re awake, Laurea.”
Danel set a plate on the table beside the bed. It was a stew with finely chopped vegetables. That seemed to be my breakfast.
Since Danel always came to see me impeccably dressed, I could never tell what time it was when he brought my meals. If he held me until I fell asleep after eating, it was evening. If he suggested a walk, it was morning.
On mornings like today, when there were no shackles around my ankles and no maid to bring my meals, it meant Danel would be staying at the estate all day. On such days, I could only take short walks under his watchful gaze from the study.
“Since you went to bed without dinner, you must be quite hungry, though I doubt you’ll be able to eat much. I’ve instructed the servants to prepare another meal this afternoon.”
I quietly watched as Danel scooped up a spoonful of stew. His face looked thinner than the one I’d seen in my dreams. Even so, his expression was strangely gentle. His voice, tone, and manner were all unexpectedly soft—far more so than before.
Even on the days I pushed my body to its limits when he wasn’t around, he never said anything. He always carried me back to the estate, battered and broken, without scolding or punishing me. He was only ever… kind.
His kindness left me feeling lost. The man holding the spoon, waiting for me to open my mouth, looked happy… so much so that this tenderness seemed like Danel’s true nature.
Of course, if that were truly the case, he would’ve handed me the utensils instead of feeding me himself.
I fidgeted slightly beneath the hem of my dress. The only freedom allowed to me was a brief walk. I couldn’t touch anything sharp—or even a spoon from the forge—lest I try to threaten someone, as I’d once done to Baroness Rodio.
It was laughable. Even if I could manage such a thing, in my weakened state from barely eating, I wouldn’t even be able to twist his arm properly. Yet Danel controlled every possibility, endlessly thorough.
“…”
When I parted my lips, Danel gently placed the spoonful of stew into my mouth. I chewed the chunks slowly, savoring nothing.
Whenever Danel acted so kindly, I felt an unsettling dissonance.
Who was he, really? Which side of him was genuine? I couldn’t tell. Judging by what he’d done so far, this gentle, patient act of feeding me seemed to be only a fraction of who he truly was. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have turned Petios into… that.
Though Danel never mentioned Petios in front of me again, I knew he hadn’t killed him yet. He kept an unwavering vigilance to ensure no one from outside ever approached me—just as much as he kept me from leaving.
This was why I desperately concealed the fact that my senses had sharpened from living in a lightless room. I needed every sense to find a way out. Somewhere in the gaps between his fingers lay an escape route. He couldn’t know I was capable of finding it.
If I searched desperately enough, wouldn’t I eventually find a chance to escape? Clinging to that hope, I forced the stew down.
After finishing the meal, I walked toward the back garden with Danel escorting me. The air had grown quite chilly. He wrapped the shawl around my shoulders, holding me close. In moments like these, I almost felt like we were a married couple enjoying a stroll.
Fortunately, that illusion ended the moment our brief walk was over.
I wanted to keep walking, but instead, I quietly crawled back into the cage. Danel, who had placed me there, returned to his study on the third floor.
A small garden enclosed by iron bars, and a study that was nothing short of a watchtower—there couldn’t have been clearer evidence that our relationship had long since strayed from anything normal.
Left alone, I wandered aimlessly through the garden. With every step on the ground, I felt Danel’s gaze following me.
As expected, Danel stayed in the estate all day. On such days, I couldn’t risk observing the world beyond the bars. From the study overlooking the garden, he could clearly see what I was looking at and what I was doing.
That wasn’t the only discomfort. On the days he stayed, our walks were usually short. How long I could stay outside depended on how many things he couldn’t do in front of me.
When he finished whatever business kept him in the study, Danel would come down to the garden, pick me up, and carry me back to the bedroom. From then on, I had to stay with him in the room.
I focused on moving my legs while cradling my swollen belly. As I walked along the edge of the fenced garden, the same question kept resurfacing.
How many weeks has it been?
Occasionally, a physician would come for a consultation, though I was never informed of the results.
How much had the child grown? How much longer would it take before the baby was born?
Such things were told only to Danel.
The only certainty was that the time I had left to escape alone was running out.
