Chapter 19
“Alright, let’s stop with the heavy talk here. It’s been a while since our son came home—shouldn’t we have a drink together? Meln, go bring some wine!”
“Ah—wine?”
“N-no, we were—”
At the word wine, Violette’s expression brightened more than ever. Noticing this, Narcissa started to rise from his seat, but Violette poked his side again and whispered quietly.
“I haven’t had a single drink this week, you know? I mean, how could you refuse the Duke’s kindness? Let’s just have a little and go. Okay?”
“…Just a little. Only enough not to get drunk.”
“Of course!”
Soon, Ophea poured each of them a glass of wine. Narcissa took a small sip and looked startled—the alcohol content was higher than he’d expected.
Violette had clearly promised she wouldn’t drink enough to get drunk, but for some reason Narcissa couldn’t shake his worry. Unlike Violette, who was enjoying the drinks with a relaxed expression, Narcissa kept glancing at her, constantly checking her condition.
After about an hour, Violette’s cheeks began to flush. Finding it endearing that she accepted every glass offered without refusal, an increasingly merry Ophea kept refilling her wine without pause.
Unlike Ayla, who had already left, Narcissa stayed by their side—and he too began to feel the alcohol creeping up on him. But Violette and Ophea, both pleasantly tipsy by now, paid him no mind and continued drinking.
“Haha! How can my daughter-in-law be this proper and lovely! Who was it that called her a ruffian? If anyone dares say that again, I’ll personally set them straight!”
“As expected of you, Your Grace!”
The title used for Violette had changed to daughter-in-law quite some time ago. Just as she lifted her brimming glass to her lips, Narcissa lightly caught her wrist and whispered.
“Aren’t you drinking too much? You should stop.”
“What are you saying, Narcissa. Are you drunk…?”
Only then did Violette realize that Narcissa was already quite intoxicated. Unlike herself—whose face was merely flushed while her mind remained clear—he looked like he’d lost his edge.
“You’re the one who should stop drinking. No, why have you even been sticking around this long? Don’t tell me it’s because of me.”
At that, Narcissa frowned deeply. He’d stayed beside her out of concern, and now she was asking why he hadn’t left? Offended, he snatched her wine glass and drained it in one go. Violette blinked in surprise as her drink disappeared, and he whispered in a low voice.
“You’re bad with alcohol.”
“…What?”
Before Violette could respond, Narcissa turned his head away again. She was left dumbfounded. Bad with alcohol? It was something she’d never heard in her life.
This was the first time she’d ever drunk in front of Narcissa to begin with—thanks to that ridiculous contract—so how he’d decided she was bad with alcohol was completely beyond her.
“What are you talking about? Me, bad with alcohol?”
“You got drunk after just a few glasses of wine back then and—”
Just as Narcissa was about to continue, Ophea, who had been watching the scene, barked irritably.
“Why are you drinking what was poured for my daughter-in-law, you impudent brat!”
“I’ll drink in her place, so please stop giving her any more.”
Violette was curious about what he’d been about to say, but before she could ask, Narcissa quickly downed another glass. After that, he continued intercepting every glass placed in front of her. Before long, he was visibly, unmistakably dead drunk. Unable to watch any longer, Violette reached for his glass to stop him.
“Narcissa, stop drinking. Even His Grace has given up by now.”
She glanced at Ophea as she spoke. Just as she said, Ophea had reached his limit and was now staring dully at his glass, focusing only on refilling it. Even so, Narcissa didn’t seem inclined to change his mind.
“If I don’t drink, won’t they just tell you to drink instead?”
With that, Narcissa deliberately took another swig. Shaking her head at his stubbornness, Violette let out a faint sigh.
Anyone could see that he was the one who was drunk—so why was he worrying about her? Unable to understand him at all, and growing concerned, Violette firmly took his glass away.
“That’s enough. Really. I won’t drink anymore either.”
“Really?”
“Yes, so you too—”
Before she could finish, a heavy thud echoed through the room. Narcissa, his face flushed as if it might burst, had collapsed forward, planting his head squarely on the table.
“…Ha.”
At the absurd situation, Violette simply ran a hand through her hair.
Because Narcissa was too drunk to even support himself, the two of them ended up staying the night at the Kegreiner ducal estate. The Duke and Duchess readily offered the room Narcissa had used before his marriage. With the servants’ help, Violette moved him onto the bed, then rubbed her face tiredly.
It had been even more exhausting because she’d had to secretly keep the monster beast egg hidden under the table throughout dinner, in case anyone noticed. Carefully, she placed the egg she’d protected so diligently beside Narcissa’s pillow.
Oblivious to everything, Narcissa lay sprawled out on the bed, breathing softly in his sleep. It was the first time she’d ever seen the usually meticulous and sharp Narcissa so completely defenseless. Sitting at the edge of the bed, Violette looked down at him.
“Narcissa.”
She called his name softly, but there was no response. Gently, she brushed aside the hair that had fallen over his face.
His soft hair slipped through her fingers, revealing his peacefully sleeping face. Because his skin was so pale, the flush on his cheeks stood out even more. A small laugh escaped Violette as she studied him closely.
“Whoever’s husband you are, you’re really handsome…”
Narcissa’s eyes were usually sharp, and he often furrowed his brow, giving him a perpetually severe impression. But with his eyes closed, all of that was hidden, leaving him with an unexpectedly gentle air.
His straight, well-defined nose and thin, delicate lips kept drawing her gaze. Without realizing it, Violette placed a finger on the bridge of his nose and slowly traced downward.
Her finger brushed past his nose and touched his lips.
At that moment, his eyelids slowly opened.
“Ah—th-that is… I was just wondering if you were sleeping well…”
Caught peeking, Violette startled and hurriedly stepped back. But unlike her expectation that he’d recoil in disgust, Narcissa simply stared intently at her face.
Embarrassed by his blatant gaze, Violette smiled awkwardly and stood up. But a careful hand caught her wrist, stopping her.
“Violette…”
He murmured her name in a low voice. Still heavy with sleep, that hazy tone was enough to freeze her in place, and paired with his languid gaze, it made her cheeks burn red without her even realizing it.
“Y-yeah?”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to sleep too. I can’t sleep here, can I?”
She tried to smile and stood up again, but Narcissa frowned slightly, as if he couldn’t understand her at all.
“We’ve been sleeping together all this time. What’s the problem? Come here.”
It all happened in an instant. Narcissa gently pulled on the wrist he was holding, and Violette—who’d been leaning awkwardly against the bed—lost her balance and fell into his arms. They were close enough that their breaths nearly touched, and Narcissa, already closing his eyes again, naturally wrapped his arms around her.
“You must be tired. Go to sleep.”
“N-no, s-sleeping here is a bit… The bed is too small. And if someone sees us like this—”
Flustered, Violette stumbled over her words. She had slept in the same bed as him before, but that was in Navian Territory.
The bedroom there had been prepared for the two of them from the start, spacious enough even when they lay together. But this room was from before Narcissa’s independence. It was a bed meant for one person. With the two of them lying together, there was barely any space left. Cradled tightly in his arms, Violette’s body stiffened.
But unlike her, who was painfully aware of the situation, Narcissa murmured calmly, as if it were nothing.
“So what? We’re married.”
At those words, Violette’s face turned bright red, as if it might burst. Since when had the word married been so embarrassingly intimate? She’d used it countless times before just to fluster him, without thinking anything of it.
Narcissa, too, had referred to them as a married couple before—but this felt different. Before, marriage had meant nothing more than a contractual status. Just now, however, it sounded like the bond of true partners who loved each other.
