Chapter 5
I had known that noble marriages were not considered valid without witnesses. It wasn’t something from my world, so I only knew it as fact, not experience.
Those who carried the bloodline of the Royal House of the Principality must have remained to witness this union.
From behind the translucent veil, I could feel their gazes observing our union.
The sound of soft whispering, hidden behind ornate fans. The rustling of layered garments brushing together as they crossed their legs.
The silhouettes taking shape on the veil. Their imaginations filling in what their eyes couldn’t see.
It felt like we were beasts in a cage, and even I—nothing more than a spectacle of the West Palace—found the moment deeply unsettling.
All of it struck me with a chilling awareness.
Every part of my body tensed with sensitivity.
You, too, seemed affected.
As your slightly stiff hand slid beneath my dress, there was no warmth or passion in the way your gaze met mine. It was clear your thoughts were outside the curtain.
You parted my legs, and your hand trailed up my thigh—cold.
There was no tenderness. It was as if you were merely fulfilling a duty, declaring before the Almighty that I now belonged to you.
You entered the place within me that I’d long forgotten even existed.
Your presence, as you pushed into me and filled me, was nothing short of torment.
Large, hot, and unyielding—it hurt.
As I twisted under the strain, your weight pinned me down.
Your body was hot where it embraced me, but your eyes that broke me were chillingly cold.
You exhaled in low, rough breaths.
I had to close my mouth, shut my eyes, and cover my ears to survive that alien moment.
And thus, you and I became husband and wife.
Cold as winter, you still came to me each and every night.
Nights when even the moon waned to a pale sliver.
In the darkness, just like that first night, you lay with me again.
The only difference now was that no one was watching.
Because of that, your demands grew more assertive.
—“Lift your hips.”
Your solid chest pressed down against my back.
Gripping my chin, you turned my head toward you.
—“Give me your tongue.”
Buried deep inside me, you kissed me.
Panting, I followed the movements you taught me.
You soaked into me completely.
When you wrapped yourself around me like that, you were passionate and warm, as if you were helping me be reborn.
I always thought you were cold, distant—but looking back, maybe you weren’t that way from the start.
I can’t say there were no good memories.
Even if the process of us coming together had been cold, our early days as a married couple weren’t bad.
But when did it begin?
That moment when the fragile, not-quite-bad relationship cracked.
Perhaps it was that day—when my painful and burdensome bond with you began to shift into something tinged with strange joy.
As I was once again fulfilling my duty before God, I suddenly sensed someone’s presence.
Startled, my shoulders flinched. I think you smiled faintly as you looked at me.
You were unusually beautiful in that moment, and I could only stare, abandoned like a ghost in winter, unable to even greet you.
Then you spoke first.
—“Did you not realize someone was here?”
—“When… when did you arrive?”
—“Hmm. I think I heard about three pieces.”
At your nonchalant reply, I realized the world had gone dark.
It was the time when winter was deepening, burying all things in stillness and silence.
And among them, the stillest was you.
My heart stirred strangely as I looked at you, as you gazed at the world weighed down by silence.
—“Whenever I hear you play… it makes me feel strange.”
Maybe it was because I’d been thinking the same thing. My shoulders twitched.
In that frigid place, you arrogantly crossed your legs and lifted your chin.
Even shrouded in darkness, your silhouette radiated dominance.
—“They say it’s the highest praise one can offer to God.”
—“…”
—“It’s beautiful, what blossoms from your fingertips. So beautiful that I can understand why they say so.”
What was I supposed to say to that?
—“Or perhaps… the beautiful thing is you.”
You murmured another line, then stood up.
You walked over and came to my side. The human warmth brought life to the room full of winter.
You kissed me lightly on the lips and reached your hand toward my shoulder.
Your hand moved with grace. Strong fingers pressed a piano key.
Taaang. The sound you made was closer to noise.
Just one note, echoing meaninglessly and hollow.
—“How do you make it?”
You murmured as if in wonder.
—“Is the world you see… as beautiful as the one you create?”
—“…It just appears, that’s all.”
That was all I could say in reply.
Even I couldn’t explain my ability.
I didn’t need to think—the next measure would come.
Even without visualizing it—the next motif would play.
Even without practice—the music became mine.
You hugged me from behind.
I felt the weight of your arms resting on my shoulders. Your warm breath thawed my frozen ears.
—“Like breathing… it comes naturally. I couldn’t explain it, any more than I could explain why we breathe.”
—“Humans breathe to live.”
—“…I trust you weren’t being serious.”
—“I was, in my own way. Though it seems like a joke to you.”
Eventually, your hand overlapped mine. A large hand that gripped my fingers firmly.
Unlike me, chilled by the room, your warmth was immense.
—“If we started assigning reasons to everything in this world, we’d find one for even why we’re breathing right now.”
—“Still, for me, this… can’t be explained.”
—“Is that so?”
You didn’t argue further and simply lifted me into your arms.
Startled, I flailed a little as I found myself in your grasp.
—“…Your Highness?”
—“Shall we go? I caught a boar today.”
—“You went winter hunting?”
At my natural question, your straight brows furrowed slightly.
It seemed like a faint sign of displeasure.
—“There was a big fuss about preparing for it since morning. But it seems you’re not very interested in me.”
—“Ah… forgive me. I was distracted.”
Though you said the preparations had been noisy, I had heard nothing of it.
Though we were officially wed, my standing in the principality wasn’t much different than it had been in the kingdom.
Though the world knew me as the “One Who Sees,” my origin followed me like a shadow.
Being born a bastard was a lifelong shackle.
Even the Conquering King, who struck fear into the world, was never spared from the scorn that came with it.
You blinked once as you looked down at me.
—“No, I suppose it makes sense that you wouldn’t know.”
—“Pardon?”
—“I heard you were coughing around lunchtime. I had completely forgotten myself.”
That remark made me feel terribly ashamed, as if I’d been lazy.
Though what came next embarrassed me even more.
—“It’s my fault you ended up sleeping in.”
—“…”
—“Still, I’m glad you asked me something out of concern. I should say I’m pleased.”
I just stared at you in silence.
By then, I must have been red all the way to my toes.
Maybe in those days, I was starting to feel a subtle bond with you.
That growing closeness—it was both bittersweet and unfamiliar.
A longing I had never had before.
The fluttering in my chest.
A small, pleasant tremble that might have been called excitement.
But I couldn’t nurture it into something greater.
Afraid it would slip from my hands and shatter, I couldn’t get closer.
Afraid it would break apart, I couldn’t let myself settle into it.
Looking back, maybe I was simply afraid of something that might never come closer.
Just a frightened, timid child.
—“Let’s go.”
You, who had gifted me all those emotions, stepped forward with calm footsteps.
On the days you returned from a hunt, there was always a banquet.
Unlike the kingdom, in the principality I was required to attend such events—but it still didn’t feel natural to me.
I sat in my seat, listening to the laughter of others, but I couldn’t fight the nausea.
In front of countless watching eyes, I clasped a hand over my mouth and rushed out.
Everyone stopped laughing and stared at my sudden departure.
Wondering… Could she be pregnant?
