Chapter 34
Creak.
I shot upright in my seat.
The sudden movement made the chair scrape harshly against the floor.
“M-maybe… we should take a short break?!”
My voice came out louder than I intended.
Catching him off guard, he gave a small nod, and in that moment of hesitation I quickly slipped out of the archives.
If I stayed, he would see the heat flooding my face.
I could feel his piercing gaze burning into my back, but I didn’t turn around. Not once.
Back in my room, I had to stay submerged in cold water for a long while before the sensation tormenting me began to fade.
Only when my fingertips were trembling and my teeth were chattering did the heat finally ebb.
Several days later.
In front of Edith’s door, Denok stood still.
He reached for the doorknob… then stopped.
His hand hovered there for a moment before falling back to his side.
Would she even welcome him?
He couldn’t pinpoint when it began.
Maybe after that day in the archives.
Or perhaps that same night—
the night they didn’t have dinner together.
All he knew for certain was this: Edith had been different.
It wasn’t about work or conversation—those were the same as always.
It was… something else. Something distant.
To be precise, she looked… worn down.
Each passing day, there was a shadow in her expression he couldn’t quite read.
Even while working together, she would sometimes drift off into thought, her brows furrowed in quiet worry, a sigh slipping past her lips.
If that was all, he could have simply worried she had something on her mind.
But no—more than that, it felt like she was pulling away from him.
“Ah—sorry—”
“Ah—!”
When their fingertips brushed as he handed her some documents, she flinched violently, pulling her hand back as though she must not touch him.
Her skin had been icy cold, despite the warm room.
When he asked about it, she’d simply brought her hand to her chest and said she’d taken a cold bath because it was hot.
Later, when he entered her room at night, she’d let out a weary sigh, her expression troubled… only to force a smile when she finally noticed him.
That faint, unspoken boundary was there—he could almost feel it under his palm.
He wanted to cross it, but hesitated.
And so he stood now, frozen before her door.
Clearly, something was wrong.
But why wouldn’t she tell him?
Was it because… he had done something wrong?
If that was the case, he wished she would just say it.
Frustration clenched in his chest, and his teeth ground together.
That was when it happened.
His emotions churned—and the air around him sharpened like drawn steel.
An invisible current swelled like a rising tide, coiling around the walls.
Furniture rattled faintly in the pull of that magic.
Denok stilled, letting his expression flatten into composure.
The uncertainty in his eyes sank into something darker.
Perhaps… it was only natural she found it hard to trust him.
After all, the only thing he could offer was the immense magic running through his veins.
As a lord, he relied on her for governance.
Even this marriage… had been made possible because of her.
He wanted to repay her somehow. But what could he do?
If—just if—he could one day master this power…
Would she finally lean on him?
With that thought, Denok tightened his grip on the air, lifted his hand, and knocked on Edith’s door.
A short while later, the candlelight flickered… then vanished under a breath.
For him, extinguishing the candle was always the beginning of the night.
As always, Denok bound his eyes with black cloth.
Then he leaned toward the place where he sensed her.
Her quiet, uneven breaths led him to soft lips.
He pressed against them, feeling them part slightly as a faint breath escaped.
Unasked questions lingered in his mind—but instead of speaking, he pushed forward, and a muffled moan rose from deep in her throat.
Physical conversation was easier than words.
A lick, a brush, and he could tell exactly what pleased her—
where she shivered, where her breath caught.
Twirling his tongue against hers, tangling and coaxing, was one of the things she seemed to like most.
He wanted to ask what had been troubling her.
But the words refused to form.
The silence made him oddly restless.
Every thought he had narrowed back to Edith.
And then—he remembered that day.
The day his blindfold had slipped off by accident.
Her flushed face, her trembling breaths.
Those clear blue eyes, wet with unhidden traces of pleasure.
If only he could read her that easily now.
If only she would be honest with him.
That unfamiliar urge rose, drowning out reason. His body followed instinct.
Pulling her slender frame close, Denok pressed against her, holding fast as she made a small, futile movement to pull away.
He kissed her deeply, swallowing her faint moans whole.
Their bodies were pressed flush, every shift dragging cloth against heated skin.
Through the thin fabric, he felt a single spot, stiff and unyielding.
Without thinking, he shifted, and the movement dragged the fabric cruelly against it.
Her sweet voice threatened to escape—only for his tongue to dive deeper, stealing the sound from her lips.
Beneath his palm, the skin of her waist quivered in tiny spasms.
Even through the haze in his mind, he noticed—
She was reacting far more sensitively than usual.
A moment later, a weak but insistent push met his chest.
It wasn’t enough to move him physically—
but it was enough to pull him back to his senses.
Like cold water splashing over his head, clarity returned.
He withdrew at once.
“I… I think that’s enough for now,” she murmured, breathless.
“…Forgive me. I didn’t think—”
Edith was still panting, her words stumbling.
It was then that the uneasy feeling struck.
He’d been about to apologize, but instead, he found himself asking—
“…Are you all right?”
He pulled off the blindfold and studied her face.
She wasn’t as flushed as before, but she was still breathing as though she’d been running.
There was a restless tension in her posture.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“No! Nothing at all.”
She shook her head so quickly it was almost fierce, cutting him off before he could finish.
Would she never tell him?
That thought darkened his gaze.
“…I understand. But if something does happen—please, tell me.”
Edith averted her eyes for a moment… then gave a small nod.
The night deepened.
When the entire ducal estate had sunk into silence, clouds swallowed the moonlight, leaving the room in pitch blackness.
In that darkness, two people lay with their backs to each other.
From one side came a faint movement.
Her shoulders trembled as she curled in on herself.
“…Haa…”
Edith’s face was flushed, her breathing unsteady, and she swallowed a breathless, heated moan into the dark.
