Episode 5
By the time Roxana realized it, she was already completely in Asterion’s arms.
Everything felt like a blur — her inexperience made her just follow his lead, swept away by his touch and the heat between them.
When she woke up later, her body felt sore and heavy.
For a while, she just lay there, staring blankly at the dark window before hearing Asterion’s calm voice behind her.
“Finally awake?”
Startled, she sat up too quickly and groaned as pain shot through her back.
Asterion only smiled and said he had already given her medicine, but muscle pain was to be expected.
When his hand brushed her waist through the thin blanket, she jumped and pulled the sheet all the
way up to her chin — that’s when she noticed the marks on her skin, and her face went bright red.
He teased her gently, saying he was only trying to help ease her soreness.
When she flusteredly said she was fine, he kept calmly talking, asking if there was anywhere else
that hurt, which made her even more embarrassed when she realized what he was implying.
Asterion then explained that he had given her a painkiller potion while she was asleep and even applied medicine so her body wouldn’t ache too much.
Roxana was shocked to realize he must’ve been the one to do it.
Her ears burned as she asked who helped her, and he only replied smoothly that he hadn’t expected his wife to be so shy after their wedding night.
Roxana didn’t know where to look.
Every time she tried to speak, her words came out wrong — like she was asking him to do it again.
Asterion seemed amused and told her not to worry, that he would take care of her himself next time, too.
Trying to change the subject, he suggested she should eat and rest since her body would need recovery.
Roxana noticed she already felt clean — no sweat, no stickiness — and guessed he must’ve washed her himself while she was asleep.
That thought alone made her bury her face in the blanket from embarrassment.
When she looked around, she saw her clothes folded neatly on the table.
Asterion noticed her glance and said casually,
“You’ll just have to take them off again later, so why bother dressing up? Just wear a robe.”
She was too stunned to reply. He pointed out the window — it wasn’t dawn but already evening.
She’d slept the whole day. Roxana could only think bitterly, “Please, just let tonight be peaceful. Surely even he has some self-control.
He told her dinner was ready, but when she didn’t follow right away, he joked that if she wasn’t hungry, he didn’t mind staying in bed instead — and started loosening his robe.
Roxana immediately leapt up, shouting,
“I’m eating! I’ll eat!”
That made him smirk and tie the robe again.
They ate dinner together. Roxana, starving, cleaned her plate while he patiently waited for her to finish.
But when she tried to go to the duchess’s chambers afterward, Asterion suddenly picked her up and carried her straight back to the bedroom.
She struggled, but it was useless against a sword master.
He said it was for her muscle pain — and by the time she realized what he meant, it was too late.
After that night, Roxana couldn’t leave the bedroom for days.
Asterion seemed to have no intention of letting her go.
Even the living room next door felt out of reach because he always found some excuse to keep her close.
Every night was exhausting — he had a seemingly endless amount of strength, and even when she was too tired to move, he didn’t stop.
Even bathing wasn’t safe; he insisted on helping her because she nearly fell once when she tried to do it alone.
Asterion took care of her meticulously — feeding her, giving her medicine, applying ointment when she slept.
From the outside, it looked like the perfect honeymoon. But Roxana knew better.
There was no love — only desire. Asterion liked her body more than he cared about her heart.
His eyes burned with passion every night, and though Roxana’s body eventually adjusted, part of her started to feel like she was being kept.
He even changed her meals to nutritious dishes, saying they would help her recover.
The way he watched over her made her feel less like a wife and more like something he was raising carefully — training, even.
