**Episode 4 **
—
Sharie spun around in surprise.
The eyes that met hers no longer held the innocent, animal-like gaze from earlier when he had nestled into her arms. At that very moment, her fumbling hand brushed against something behind her.
“Eek!”
The man’s shoulder jerked sharply, and his breathing grew even heavier than before.
*Wait… Could it be…?*
Realization dawned, and Sharie’s face flushed bright red, like a ripened apple.
“If you wanted to look, you should’ve just asked.”
The man gave a sly smile, his lips curving with ease. He looked like an entirely different person.
“Shall I show you?”
“N-No!”
Sharie shouted, almost like a shriek.
*Was that too much of a reaction?*
She glanced up to check his mood, but Caissa looked as composed as ever.
“I see. But if you ever get curious later… just say the word.”
“N-No, I won’t!”
Honestly, she doubted such a day would ever come.
As tension gripped her body, a gentle hand patted her stiffened shoulder.
“Shh. I won’t do anything tonight.”
The steady beat of his heart pulsed through the broad chest pressed gently against her back. Warmth enveloped her, and before she knew it, sleep began to pull her in.
“It’s late.”
Caissa carefully swept her messy hair back with his large hand.
“I’ll stay with you. You can rest easy.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than his strong arms gently but firmly wrapped around her. His limbs coiled like a serpent claiming its prey. But Sharie, already heavy with sleep, didn’t resist.
*So sleepy…*
Her mind faded to blankness, and her eyes slowly closed.
Just as her consciousness began to drift, a whisper tickled her ear.
“At last…”
The voice, filled with euphoria, sounded nothing like the gentle man who’d just soothed her to sleep.
“We meet again.”
In the fog of dreams, Sharie’s mind stumbled upon an old memory.
A wounded shadow panting in the thick underbrush…
Eyes like a wild beast’s, gleaming and fixed on her.
“You’re mine now.”
As the last sensation—a cold kiss upon her forehead, like ice—settled into her skin, she slipped completely into slumber.
—
Several days had passed since the wedding.
Living in a foreign land without a single familiar face wasn’t easy.
But to her surprise, time had passed peacefully.
“What were you up to today?”
Caissa, who often dropped by to check on her, was the greatest source of comfort. Thanks to him, Sharie—timid as she was—had been able to settle in far more smoothly than expected.
“They say families should always share meals.”
Whoever had told Caissa that, he seemed to treat it like a sacred rule.
No matter what else happened, they always ate together.
For Sharie, who struggled with the customs of Barhad, this was a blessing.
The Snake Tribe and Rabbit Tribe were different in nearly every way—from language and living spaces to culture and mannerisms.
*If people start criticizing me for being a dim-witted bride who can’t even speak properly, it’ll be a disaster.*
Her grandfather, who normally hated seeing her read, had personally overseen her crash-course education in the foreign language. The lessons were brutal.
*How can you be this useless? I can’t even watch!*
The cane he used was made from hard birch and hit like iron. Just one strike could leave a deep bruise.
At first, she studied simply to avoid getting hit. But in hindsight, she was grateful. Had she not mastered the language beforehand, she would’ve struggled terribly.
*One, two, three, four…*
Sharie had been shocked the first time she dined with Caissa.
There were thirteen different forks and knives lined up in perfect order on the pristine white tablecloth.
A chill had run down her spine.
*Thirteen utensils for a single meal? Seriously?*
Their size was another shock.
Rabbit Tribe members were small, with bodies designed to store fat. In contrast, the Snake Tribe was tall and lean, with long limbs.
The difference was so stark, one could tell which tribe someone belonged to just by seeing them stand side by side.
*But this is too much…*
One of the knives looked about as long as her arm.
As she hesitated, wondering how to even hold the thing, a large hand reached out beside her.
“This is a bone knife. It’s used for cutting meat with the bones still in.”
The blade, which seemed absurdly large in her hands, looked perfectly normal in Caissa’s grip.
“Allow me to show you how to use it.”
Just then, the chef arrived, bringing in a whole roast cooked with red berries and euphoris leaves.
“It’s black-horned boar from the Apis Snowfields,” the chef explained. “We added chope berries to eliminate the gaminess and slow-roasted it for hours. The skin should be crispy and the meat tender.”
She had no idea what that animal was, but the size alone was jaw-dropping.
The dish took up nearly half of the enormous banquet table. It was more than enough to feed everyone in the room.
“Do you eat meat?”
“Yes.”
Although she belonged to the Rabbit Tribe, centuries of diluted “Founder’s blood” meant their instincts had evolved closer to human than animal.
She had no issues eating meat.
With a clean *crack*, Caissa sliced through the crisp skin, revealing tender pink meat beneath. He then served her a portion with practiced grace and pushed the plate toward her.
But the dish was so large, it nearly toppled her over when she caught it.
“Careful, my lady,” the chef warned. “The plate’s made of stone—it’s quite heavy.”
“Stone?”
“Yes. Stone dishes are ideal for fire-roasted meals. They retain heat for a long time.”
At this point, it felt less like dinnerware and more like a weapon.
Sharie pulled the plate toward her with trembling hands and sighed.
Still, the meat looked delicious.
She reached for her fork, ready to dig in, but then paused. Something occurred to her.
She pushed the plate back toward Caissa.
“You… should eat too.”
Her tone was awkward—formal words caught in her throat, barely held back.
She was glad she hadn’t started eating alone.
Caissa’s smile bloomed the moment she offered him food.
“I’d love to.”
His usual stoic expression melted into something boyish and bright.
“…Aren’t you going to eat?”
But something felt off.
Despite the full plate she’d pushed to him, Caissa made no move to touch his utensils.
He simply watched her.
*Is it because I already took a bite?*
But she hadn’t touched it yet.
*Wait… does he want me to feed him?*
As she glanced between the roast and the giant bone knife, a quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Um… Lady Sharie.”
It was the chef again, raising a hand with a conflicted look on his face.
“Forgive my boldness, but… perhaps you could… feed the great one yourself?”
“…Excuse me?”
Sharie blinked, unsure if she’d heard correctly.
After a moment’s hesitation, she stabbed a piece of meat with her fork and awkwardly held it out.
“Here… have some.”
His lips parted, and he swallowed the bite whole.
Caissa’s sharp eyes softened into a smile.
“Tastes better when you feed me.”
His low, velvety voice had barely faded when—
“Good heavens!”
A loud shriek pierced the air from the entrance.
A brown-haired man stood frozen in horror.
“What… did I just witness?”
He rubbed his eyes dramatically, as if in disbelief.
Caissa’s expression soured with annoyance as he turned to the source of the outburst.
“Quiet, Edwin.”
Edwin Blurst.
Sharie recognized the name from the novel.
Caissa Graves’s closest aide—his right-hand man—and in the shadows, a cold-blooded assassin who followed every order without hesitation.
He may have been smiling now, but behind that smile was a man with a ruthless heart.
“Judging by that intense glare… yes, that’s the Caissa I know,” Edwin murmured, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.
“But what I *just* saw… Was I hallucinating? Or has something gone terribly wrong with my eyesight…?”
