TSFA l Part 2 CH 57

Part 2 Chapter 57

Nike Valencia was now facing the greatest ordeal of his twenty years of life.

Honestly, all the misunderstandings he’d faced until now hadn’t even counted as ordeals.
Misunderstandings from his brother, from his sister-in-law right after he entered the palace with Bania…

Even today’s misunderstanding in the Knights’ Order—about who had entered the Prince’s Palace—was something he could handle and clear up.

But there was one problem he could not resolve.

That problem was Bania.

To be precise: starting today, their bedrooms were connected through the shared marital chamber, and they could cross into each other’s rooms at any time.

Even more precisely: he had realized that with just one step, one hand’s reach—she was within grasp. And within him, the beast named another Nike Valencia stirred.

So… I have no choice.

8 p.m.

After dragging out Knights’ training unnecessarily late, Nike crept toward his room. Quietly, so Bania wouldn’t notice.

He opened the door. The servants had cleaned everything neatly.

And far across the room—
The door that led to the marital chamber.

I’m sorry. I really can’t help it.

Apologizing inwardly, Nike tiptoed toward it, balancing on his toes though no sound would have carried anyway.

At age twenty, he learned something new about himself for the first time.

What was it?

That he had a staggeringly high sex drive.

It was ridiculous.

He’d never even tried to restrain himself, but until now, he’d lived without strong desires for anything. Not for possessions, food, clothing. Not even for women. He thought he was just naturally plain.

But he was wrong.

From the day he first held Bania’s hand, something had felt strange.

The day she panicked at a bug and fell into his arms—the suspicion grew.

And now, it was certainty.

When God made him, He must have stripped away every other urge and poured it all into lust.

So he locked the door.

Clack.

And that was the gravest mistake he could have made.

***

At last—after so many rewinds, the documents sealed, the ink still fresh—our long-awaited honeymoon life together!

On the very first night…

“You’re being so unfair!”

…we were already fighting.

“It’s just my habit to lock doors.”

“What a halfhearted lie.”

“It’s true.”

On my first night in the Prince’s Palace, I was treated like a pervert.
I hadn’t even done anything!

“If it’s really your habit, why lock only one door? Why not both?”

“……”

Nike had no excuse.

Our quarters were simple:

Nike’s room / Marital chamber / My room

Each bedroom had a door to the marital chamber.
And only we could pass through those doors.

So locking one meant blocking off exactly one person.
Me.

“I thought you hadn’t come home yet,” I said.

Late that night, I wandered into the marital chamber. When I tried the door to his room, it was locked. Strange.

But Nike wasn’t even home yet, so who locked it?

“When you got home, you should’ve told me, ‘I’m here.’”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“At eight o’clock?”

“……”

“You came in then, didn’t you?”

“……”

I let it go, thinking it was nothing, and wandered the palace some more.

But something nagged at me. Passing his corridor, I tried his main door… and it opened.

And there he was, freshly bathed, drying his hair on the bed—looking startled.

Which brought us here.

“So you came home, locked me out, and just hid in your room? Because of me? You went this far to avoid me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“If this isn’t avoiding me, then what—?”

It felt so unfair, almost pitiful. I’d done nothing but wait quietly for my husband to return home.

My nose stung, and my lips pouted on their own. Nike stared at me blankly—then snapped his head away.

“Why are you dressed so skimpily?”

…Excuse me?

“This is just a nightgown. What, should I wear full formal clothes to sleep?”

“……”

He always clammed up when cornered. Maddening.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.”

I turned to leave. He grabbed me.

“Sorry for locking the door.”

“You really did it to avoid me, didn’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“Well then. Please let me go.”

I shook him off—but he didn’t let go.

“It’s not because I don’t want to see you. It’s because I’m afraid I’ll do something… bad.”

“I know what you mean, but why call that bad? If that’s bad, every couple in the world should be jailed.”

“That’s not it. Listen.”

He held my shoulders.

“We’ve been officially dating for 65 days. And we kissed for the first time just six days ago.”

…My spine tingled.

It was the same line he’d said before the rewind.

“Bania, it’s been 92 days since our first kiss.”

Why was he counting again?

“I’ll be honest. It’s embarrassing, but—I think my sex drive is too strong.”

“……”

“If I don’t set boundaries, I might rush things and disrespect you.”

Exactly the same as before.

Back then, naïve me had been moved and agreed to his terms.

But this time—

“Your Highness, you know I remember everything, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you know we’re already married, right?”

“…Yes.”

“But in your standard, it’s only been six days since our first kiss. You’d feel guilty going further. I understand that.”

He blinked, surprised by my leniency.

“…Thank you.”

“So I’ll give you two choices. Pick one.”

“…What?”

Sensing danger, he shook his head immediately.

“No.”

“You have to choose.”

“…Fine. Let’s hear them.”

“Option one: We just hold hands and sleep. Quietly. No funny business.”

“……”

“The palace gave us a villa to live in together. If we sleep in separate rooms, rumors will fly. Servants clean every morning.”

“……”

“So—even without doing anything naughty, people should know we sometimes sleep together, right?”

Of course, if he chose one, I’d “accidentally” tempt him anyway.

“…And option two?”

“Get your memories back!”

If he remembered the pre-rewind days, he wouldn’t hesitate anymore.

Nike shut his eyes. He didn’t like either option.

How noble—fighting tooth and nail not to become a beast.

“I’ll make it easier. You don’t have to regain everything. Just a little.”

“…How little?”

“Not much. Just until my nineteenth birthday, when we’d been dating almost a year.”

“……”

He blinked—then stared at me with shaking pupils.

“…What happened on your nineteenth birthday?”

Sharp as always.

“…I don’t really remember either.” I lied quickly. “Just pick. Hurry.”

“…Do I really have to—”

“Yes. Hurry!”

“……”

***

In the end, Nike chose option one.

He trusted his willpower.

The marital chamber.

We sat side by side against the headboard, holding hands.

A wholesome first night.

I stared at him as he clenched his teeth and fixed his gaze straight ahead, refusing to look at me.

What a stubborn man…

I rested my head on his shoulder.

Then I froze.

He was muttering under his breath.

“…1-8, Amin Juergens… 1-9, Christoph Monahan… 1-10, Till Burckel…”

Wow.

He was reciting the knights’ roll call. To chase away his thoughts.

He’s strong… too strong.

I gave up.

“Your Highness, I’ll just go to my room. Sleep well.”

I politely loosened my grip.

He deserved rest. Otherwise he’d end up chanting all ten divisions till dawn.

But just as I tried to pull away—he squeezed tighter.

I turned. Our eyes met.

Then—he kissed me.

Hard.

His lips pressed so fiercely I couldn’t even breathe. Our thin nightclothes made the heat ten times worse than before.

The wet sound of lips clashing filled the room. He ravaged my mouth, only letting me breathe for a second—then seized me again.

This time, rougher. Hotter.

I clutched at his collar desperately.

His hand on my shoulder trembled, sliding slowly downward…

Until his palm cupped my chest. Large, warm fingers squeezing gently.

My toes curled.

This… this can’t be stopped now.

But then—

He pulled away.

Both his hand and his lips.

“……?”

His face was so close, but his eyes were unfocused. Empty.

Déjà vu struck me.

This had happened before the rewind, too. The day his hand had finally dared to rise higher.

No… not again…

And just like before—

“Ah.”

He wavered, head swimming.

And from his nose, a long stream of blood slid down.