Chapter 8
The Reason for Marriage (8)
He apologized so plainly that Edith couldn’t stay upset any longer.
“Yes, I’m fine now. Please continue.”
Grayson nodded once before speaking.
“After the first week, you and I will coordinate our schedules and decide which days we’ll share a bedroom. After living that way for about half a year, it would be good for us to have a child.”
“A child…”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead, so Edith didn’t know how to answer.
Even if it was a political marriage, marriage was marriage; having a child was natural.
No—because it was a political marriage, she had to have a child who would carry on the family line.
But she had never imagined Grayson would want a child with her.
Sensing her confusion, Grayson asked,
“Is there a problem with having a child?”
“It just seems strange. Isn’t Your Grace planning to maintain this marriage only until the power struggle between His Highness the Crown Prince and the Duke of Lachent is resolved?”
“Correct.”
“Then why would you want a child with me? Wouldn’t it be better to divorce later and have a child with a woman from a more suitable family?”
“Hmm.”
With a look of mild amusement, Grayson narrowed his eyes and observed her for a long moment before answering.
“I don’t know whether I’ll remarry. But I do need a child. If a child born from a deranged woman is established as the young heir, no one will bother paying attention to House Myers.”
A child born from a deranged woman.
Those words tightened around Edith’s throat.
She knew why he had accepted this marriage and what he thought of her.
For him, marriage was nothing more than a tool—something to reassure the king, his brothers, and the people. Of course he would see Edith Reynolds as nothing but an obstacle that forced him into an unwanted marriage.
Of course. Of course he would.
“But still…”
‘I’m a person too.’
“You’re being cruel.”
‘I have feelings too.’
Even knowing she was a disposable piece, there were still words she didn’t want to hear.
She had decided she would gladly endure anything if it meant escaping the marquisate, but there were treatments even she struggled to accept.
Edith clenched her skirt tight, fighting back tears as she glared at Grayson.
“Does this kind of talk hurt you?”
“Very much.”
“I apologize. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
“Yes, please do.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to explain myself a bit.”
“…Go ahead.”
“I didn’t mean that I see a child born between us that way. I meant that others would see it that way.”
“Yes, I understand.”
But even after hearing his excuse, the emotions rising in her chest would not easily settle.
A child born from a deranged woman.
A child who didn’t even exist yet—one she had never even imagined—and the thought that her child might be treated like that because of her was horrifying.
‘I will never have a child.’
Edith made up her mind.
‘Whether I can or can’t, this marriage will not last a lifetime. I only need to achieve my purpose. I’ll finish what I must as fast as possible and divorce him.’
She would find a way not to conceive.
Whether by medicine or by damaging her health, she would never allow this body to bear a child.
A child with a mother like her would be pitiful.
A child with a father like him would also be pitiful.
As Edith repeated her resolve again and again, Grayson watched her silently before letting out a short sigh.
“Lady Reynolds.”
“Yes.”
“Do I need to apologize more for you to feel better?”
At the irritation in his voice, Edith closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again.
“No. It’s fine. That’s not the kind of relationship we have, is it? So—what else do I need to do?”
Her tone was sharper than before, and Grayson swallowed a sigh.
***
When Edith, eyes reddened, said he spoke terribly, he realized he had made a mistake.
He had only stated the objective reality, unaware that it would wound her.
Seeing her force her eyes open to keep the tears from falling made him feel unexpectedly sorry, and he apologized before thinking. Grayson had never said “sorry” to another person in his life, yet in just a few hours of meeting Edith, he had said it three times.
Even so, she didn’t seem to feel any better.
He then noticed that at some point, his index finger had begun tapping against his thigh.
He stopped, gently curled his hand into a fist, and spoke.
“As the future duchess, you’ll be invited to various events. You don’t need to attend all of them, but do attend the important ones.”
“Yes. And?”
“That’s all.”
“There’s nothing else? Nothing about maintaining dignity as a duchess, or behaving properly?”
“I don’t expect those things from you.”
“Oh, really.”
Edith let out a small laugh.
For some reason, her smile felt almost mocking, leaving him unsettled.
‘Did I say something wrong again?’
He replayed his words, but there was nothing objectionable in them.
What reason was there to dislike being told she could live however she wished?
Edith stared quietly at the uneaten dishes before her, then spoke.
“Then what am I allowed to do as the duchess?”
“What do you want to do?”
“Host parties, buy all the clothes I want, meet people… Just the usual things a duchess does. Am I allowed?”
Grayson tilted his head slightly, his pale blond hair slipping to the side with the movement.
“You’re asking something obvious. If you fulfill your duties as the duchess, then of course you may enjoy the privileges as well.”
“By duties… you mean what you just listed?”
Grayson gave a small nod.
“Your expectations aren’t as strict as I thought.”
“You wish they were stricter?”
“Of course not.”
Edith answered quickly.
Aside from having a child, the rest were simply natural responsibilities of a wife.
And since he didn’t even expect the dignity of a duchess from her, it couldn’t have been easier.
‘It seems the reputation of being a deranged woman isn’t entirely bad.’
It appeared Grayson intended to take Edith’s supposed “madness” as part of the bargain.
If so, that was a relief.
She wouldn’t be cast aside just for acting a little out of line.
“I’ll do my best to fulfill my duties, Your Grace. So please don’t forget your promise to guarantee my rights.”
“Of course I will, Lady Reynolds.”
***
After the play and tea time, Grayson completed every item on their schedule perfectly and escorted Edith back to the Reynolds marquisate.
When they arrived at the front gate, he stepped down from the carriage first and offered his hand to her.
Anyone watching would think they were the picture of a ‘perfect couple’.
Edith placed her hand in his and stepped down.
The lamplight beside the gate spilled over his hair, sliding across it like liquid gold.
Shadows deepened along his face where the light passed.
The light caught at the tips of his long lashes, making them sparkle—so much so that Edith momentarily lost herself, staring up at him.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
“Lady Reynolds.”
The low voice snapped her back to herself.
Embarrassed that she had let herself be mesmerized by his looks, she blinked quickly.
“Next time we meet, let’s call each other by name.”
“By… name?”
Wasn’t that far too soon?
Of course, she didn’t want to keep hearing him call her “Lady Reynolds.”
The idea of being tied to that surname was suffocating.
It was just that she couldn’t quite imagine herself calling him by his name.
Grayson. Grayson.
She mouthed it silently, and as she did, his face leaned closer.
Slowly, his cheek brushed hers as he passed, stopping beside her ear.
“Sleep well. I enjoyed today. Very much.”
When his warm breath slipped secretly across her earlobe, Edith froze.
Just as slowly as he had leaned in, he straightened back up, looked down at her with another soft smile, and turned with graceful ease to step into the carriage.
It was only after the carriage began to move that Edith could breathe again.
‘Oh my gosh. Wow—oh my gosh.’
Her heart pounded wildly from his unexpected gesture.
The breath that had tickled her earlobe and his deep, low voice still clung to her skin, making Edith rub her ear with her fingers.
The strange sensation—warm, tingling, unfamiliar—refused to fade, and so Edith remained under the lamplight, rubbing her ear for a long while until the carriage was completely out of sight.
