Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Nieve’s husband, Count Calen Vale, was eight years her senior and, as a member of an artistic family, gave off a refined and understated impression.
“Please hurry and get cleaned. There are many eyes watching, Count.”
The Count smelled of the outside world as she took her in his arms. She forced a smile, and then carefully reached out to pat his waist.
It had been almost a year since they got married, but due to the Count’s busy schedule, they rarely had the chance to spend time together, except on special occasions. As a result, Nieve still felt a bit awkward and unfamiliar with her husband, despite his kindness towards her.
Especially today, knowing what day it was, she couldn’t simply smile and laugh it off.
Forcing herself to overcome the awkwardness, Nieve asked the Count a question, but he just buried his face in her shoulder, wanting to hold her for a bit longer. The servants, witnessing the act of affection between the couple, blushed and turned their heads away.
“You’ve lost even more weight, it seems,” the Count said, his voice filled with concern. “You’re not skipping meals or overexerting yourself, are you?”
“No, I’ve been eating well and taking walks regularly.”
Nieve replied with a smile. However, her conscience kept pricking her, reminding her of what had happened earlier that day.
‘I must never let my husband find out.’
Nieve tried to act naturally, but as someone who couldn’t tell lies, hiding the truth was a struggle for her.
Just as she had managed to push the thoughts aside, her gaze fell upon Nance, who was standing among the servants.
“…”
Nance caught her eye and smiled slightly, a smile that seemed to say, “Trust me.”
Nieve felt a sense of reassurance and quickly looked away, tugging on the Count’s sleeve as she spoke.
“Let’s not stand around like this, shall we? I’ve had your favorite dishes prepared.”
“I’ll eat after I’ve washed up,” the Count replied, his voice tinged with affection.
A charming smile spread across his face as he followed Nieve, his eyes fixed on her long, wavy purple hair, which swayed elegantly with each step.
“Just a moment, wife,” he said.
Just as they reached the Count’s bedroom, he called out to her and, in front of the servants, led her inside the bedroom.
Nieve’s face turned bright red with embarrassment. The Count’s eyes gleamed with passion as he gazed at her flushed face.
“You’re still as beautiful as ever,” he said.
Nieve was a woman with a captivating presence, one that could draw attention from anyone, regardless of age or status. Her elegant appearance and demeanor were truly mesmerizing.
“Husband, Count,” Nieve replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Count stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. Nieve couldn’t push his sticky touch, and instead, she could only pucker her lips in discomfort.
“Indeed, my wife is so lovely that it’s a shame to keep her to myself,” the Count said, his voice low and husky.
“……”
“Especially your eyes, they’re my favorite. When I look at them, I feel like I’m being drawn in.”
The Count’s slender hand slowly grasped the end of her small, round chin, and his gaze fell upon her plump, pale pink lips.
As he pressed his thumb against her chin, her closed lips parted, revealing her even teeth. At the same time, the corners of the Count’s eyes curved upwards like a crescent moon.
“…Count, you know this isn’t the time, not today.”
Nieve pushed the Count away and took a step back, trying to create some distance between them.
As she felt the Count’s intense gaze, the scene from her dream flashed before her eyes, and her face grew hot. The Count looked at Nieve with a hint of disappointment and then shrugged his shoulders.
He said he would go wash up, and didn’t touch her again.
It was only after the Count had entered the bath that Nieve was able to calm her wildly racing heart.
Why did her husband’s touch feel so awkward and unfamiliar to her?
The couple had not cons!umm@t3d their marriage yet, and they even slept in separate bedrooms. They had not had the opportunity to become i1nt!m@te, either physically or emotionally.
That’s why Nieve was afraid of the consequences if her husband were to discover her secret.
He was a devout follower of the temple, with a faith stronger than anyone else.
If he were to find out that she had been taken by a demon in her dream, would he still accept her?
“…”
As her mind raced, Nieve habitually reached for her necklace, fidgeting with it to soothe her anxiety.
* * *
The dinner was a simple affair, as the Count didn’t like to make a big fuss. Since he was a vegetarian, the table was filled with various dishes, excluding meat.
Nieve didn’t believe in the temple’s teachings, but after marrying the Count, she had started to participate in the pre-meal prayer.
The ritualistic prayer ended, and the meal began in earnest. Nieve glanced at the Count, who was sitting at the head of the table, wondering what he was thinking.
‘…I hope he hasn’t forgotten what today is?’
Today was a special day for Nieve, a day that was both special and sad. It was the one-year anniversary of her foster mother’s passing.
When the Count had said he was returning to the estate from the capital, Nieve had assumed it was because he knew today was the death anniversary.
And even now, she firmly believed that it might be the case.
“Ah, Count—”
Nieve said, just as the Count opened his mouth to speak.
“Business is going smoothly. I recently met with an investor from the southern continent, and they’re interested in my theological art project. You know, don’t you, that I’m working on establishing a theological foundation? It’s going to happen soon.”
The Count took a bite of his food, still smiling.
“Congratulations,” Nieve replied, nodding her head in response.
She didn’t know the details of the Count’s business, but she had a general idea of what it was about.
The Count was trying to establish the only theological foundation in the Holy Empire, a feat that required a significant amount of resources and influence. He had been traveling far and wide to find investors to support his project.
“Speaking of which, it’s almost been a year since we got married, hasn’t it?…Are you drinking the water I gave you?”
The Count, who had been discussing business, seemed to notice Nieve’s boredom and quickly changed the subject.
After marrying Nieve, the Count had been giving her a special water called “purification water” to drink. Nieve didn’t know what was in it, but every time she drank it, she felt a dull ache in her stomach and a sense of nausea. As a result, she had been secretly avoiding it.
Nieve forced a bright smile and nodded. “Of course, I’m drinking it. You’re my husband, and you told me to drink it, so I have to.”
However, lying didn’t come easily to her. Nieve’s hands instinctively reached for her necklace, and she felt a sense of awkwardness.
The Count’s eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at the necklace, its color faded with time.
“Can you take off that necklace? It’s an eyesore.”
Nieve was taken aback by the Count’s words and hesitated, unsure of how to respond.
The necklace was a memento from her foster mother, given to her before she passed away. Nieve had worn it every day for the past year, and it held great sentimental value to her. She felt a pang of sadness and hurt at the Count’s request to remove it.
The Count’s tone was firm and unyielding, devoid of the affection he had shown just moments before.
“A cheap, tacky necklace like that doesn’t suit you. I have guests arriving soon, so I’d prefer it if you didn’t wear it then.”
Nieve’s voice was laced with emotion as she replied, “But it was a gift from my foster mother… why are you saying this now?”
“I’m saying this because your body is being sullied by it. And besides, you and that foster mother of yours aren’t even related by blood, are you?”
“Count!”
Nieve’s face reddened with anger and hurt as she stood up from her seat. She knew that the Count had never approved of her foster mother, a former courtesan who had opposed their marriage.
Despite knowing about the conflict between the Count and her foster mother, Nieve had tried to mediate between them. But even after her foster mother’s passing, it seemed that the Count’s attitude hadn’t changed.
“Even if you didn’t get along with my mother, you shouldn’t have said that today….I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it.”
“Sit down, wife,” the Count said in a stern voice. But Nieve didn’t listen this time, and instead turned to leave.
The dinner ended in an awkward and chilly atmosphere.
* * *
Nieve lay awake all night, unable to sleep. She wasn’t one to sleep well normally, but tonight was particularly bad due to everything that happened today.
‘Was I being too sensitive?’ she thought to herself, deciding that she should apologize to the Count.
She made her way to the study, where the Count often worked late into the night. The corridor seemed longer than usual, and Nieve’s footsteps slowed as she walked, as if the wind was holding her back.
The corridor was eerily quiet, with no servants in sight. Even the sound of the wind seemed loud in the silence, and Nieve found herself treading carefully, trying not to make too much noise.
As she approached the study, she saw that the door was slightly ajar, indicating that the Count was indeed inside. Just as she was about to knock on the door, she hesitated.
“… Ah, Count!”
A l3w.d and explicit [email protected] drifted through the gap in the door, making Nieve’s mind reel.
At first, she thought she must have misheard, but the sound was unmistakable—someone was [email protected] in pleasure.
As the reality of the situation sunk in, Nieve’s heart began to racing with a mix of shock and unfamiliar emotions, like a child who had done something wrong.
Nieve hesitated, then peered through the gap in the door.
The scene was blurry, but she could make out a man and a woman entwined against the window, their bodies harshly [[grinding against each other.
Their bodies, tangled together, were like candles flickering in the wind. But was struck Nieve was the man grasping the woman.
It was her own husband.