What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 114
Ysaris paused, her knife hovering over the meat as she turned to look at Kazhan. Without any change in his expression, he had casually uttered such bold words. Noticing her gaze, he met her eyes and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… I feel like your expressions of affection have become more daring lately.”
“Daring? You mean saying I’m jealous?”
“Isn’t it?”
Kazhan fixed a long, steady look on Ysaris, as though mulling over her innocence. Considering she had lost all memories of him, it made sense that her experience with relationships was virtually nonexistent. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel an odd disconnect at times.
The Ysaris of the past had been just as prone to jealousy as he was.
“Let me clarify something for you,” he began. “I haven’t even properly expressed my affection yet.”
“What?”
“Far from being daring, I’ve been restraining myself—patiently, at that—giving you time to adjust.”
Ysaris blinked, caught off guard. He had confessed to her soon after she woke without her memories and had continuously expressed his love ever since. This was restraint?
“What, by your standards, counts as a ‘proper expression of affection’?” she asked cautiously.
“Do you want me to show you?”
Kazhan’s gaze shifted briefly to the side, checking on Mikael, who was still engrossed in his food. It seemed like he was deciding whether it would be appropriate to demonstrate such affection in front of the child.
Catching on, Ysaris hurriedly cut him off.
“No! No, that’s… not necessary!”
Her awkward smile wavered. Despite being married, she found it difficult to see Kazhan as a romantic partner after only two months together. If this had been a marriage of convenience, she might have resigned herself to fulfilling even the physical obligations, but he had explicitly said it wasn’t one.
She knew Kazhan was being considerate by not rushing her. This was evident in the fact that, even after their time at Lena’s house, during their journey by carriage, and in the Imperial Palace, they had never shared a bed. Anytime the atmosphere grew too intimate, she avoided his gaze or deflected his advances beyond an appropriate level of closeness.
That wasn’t to say Ysaris hadn’t tried to bridge the gap in their relationship. She kept to her word, making gradual progress to close the distance between them, to the point where holding hands, hugging, and even dancing had become routine.
But in a marital relationship, this was still far from sufficient.
“Then what’s the limit of what you’re willing to allow?” Kazhan asked.
“Umm…”
Faced with the tricky question, Ysaris busied herself wiping Mikael’s mouth, buying time to think. After some hesitation, she glanced at Kazhan and replied, “What we’ve done so far is fine. Holding hands, hugging… anything we can express in words.”
“Understood,” he said with a nod, though his interpretation of her answer veered somewhat astray.
“Then words—jealousy, expressions of love, and all that—I can indulge in as much as I want?”
“How does that follow?”
“Since we’re talking about it,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I should admit that I’m most jealous of the maid who attends your baths.”
“Cough!”
Ysaris choked on her soup, hastily covering her mouth as she coughed several times. Meanwhile, Kazhan pressed on unabashed, apparently oblivious to her mortification.
“If you’d allow me, I could take over. Honestly, considering how well I’ve—”
“Wait, wait! Not here! The child’s listening!”
“Do you think he’ll understand?”
“That’s not the point! I feel uncomfortable, so no.”
Her cheeks flamed red as she cast a furtive glance at the servants, fearing they had overheard. What sort of wild assumptions would they be making now?
Even Ysaris herself wasn’t immune. Kazhan bathing her… the image materialized too vividly in her mind, heating her face further.
“Even between married couples, that kind of… that kind of indecent talk…”
Watching her stumble over her words, Kazhan’s eyes softened in amusement.
‘If I told her we’d already done that in the past, she might faint, he mused, recalling it as a deeply memorable experience.’
But for Ysaris’s sake, he kept the truth to himself and changed the subject.
“On a more pressing note, do you have plans after lunch tomorrow?”
“No, not at the moment,” she replied, her tone wary, as though bracing for something unexpected.
“Good. A designer will be coming to the palace. We need to commission attire for the banquet, so keep your schedule free if possible.”
