Chapter 186

The troublesome situation in the mansion was unexpectedly resolved soon.

There came a very polite suggestion that went, ‘It is our family’s custom for the bride to share a room with the groom on her first night in his home, so if it is acceptable, perhaps you might…’ — implying that she should spend the night in the Duke’s chamber.

Well, that was part of a married couple’s duty. Regardless of whether a child was conceived or not, there was nothing strange about simply sharing a bed. Even Abelus, aside from their obligatory nights together, had suddenly done so at times, saying that men sometimes just wanted to.

As Nerys prepared to move into her husband’s chamber, she was as grave and serious as if preparing for battle. From bathing in fragrant water, receiving a massage, applying rose oil over her entire body, to dressing in a newly made gown — her heartbeat thudded so hard she felt it echo in her skull.

And finally, night had completely fallen.

Dora escorted Nerys to the Duke’s chamber, located right next to the Duchess’s bedroom. Over her thin silk nightgown, she wore a cloak of black sable fur.

Knock, knock. As she tapped on the door, footsteps were heard from within.

“I’ll take my leave now.”

Dora quickly turned and departed.

The moment had come. Nerys watched tensely as the door opened.

The one who opened it was Cledwyn. There was no one else in the room. His face, oddly unfamiliar in this dim light, made her fingertips turn cold.

Why was she this nervous? It wasn’t even the first time. She mocked herself, yet she knew the answer.

She was afraid — afraid that he might be disappointed in someone as insignificant as her.

Thinking back, Abelus had grumbled throughout their marriage — about her unattractive face, her thin frame, her stiff manner that lacked any semblance of charm…

Though Nerys was praised for her intellect and diplomacy, said to rival seasoned statesmen, when it came to relationships between men and women, her knowledge was purely anatomical — or secondhand gossip at best. She only realized after marriage how “unappealing” she truly was.

She had known she wasn’t particularly likable as a friend — she’d heard that enough during her school days. But that she was equally inadequate as a wife had been a revelation.

Abelus complained, yet never once taught her how to be better. And so, she remained lost, never knowing what to do.

There had been, however, one unforgettable experience.

In her previous life, Nerys had once entered her husband’s room unexpectedly — and caught sight of him with Megara. Perhaps a servant hadn’t closed the door properly, for through the small gap she saw them entangled. She even noticed the red mark on Megara’s pale thigh.

It was only for a moment, but that scene — that tenderness — was something entirely absent in the Crown Prince couple’s cold, dutiful relationship.

She had fled the spot in shock, but somehow, Megara later acknowledged it with a sly remark.

“Your Highness, even if the door was open, it’s rather improper to peek at another’s private affairs.”

Sweet sighs, rapturous touches, heated kisses — those were the things that should have been there.

If only Nerys hadn’t been so lacking.

The memory made her chest ache. Seeing her stiff face, Cledwyn raised a brow.

“What’s wrong? Are you tired?”

He drew her close by the waist and gently led her into the room, closing the door behind them.

Soft, almost fleeting kisses brushed her lips again and again. The warmth made her tense up further, yet also feel strangely reassured.

Yes — at least Cledwyn wasn’t the kind of man to hurt her with cruel words. That much, she knew.

With each kiss, his bright gray eyes lowered, and Nerys’s eyes squeezed shut — mostly out of not knowing where else to look.

When his eyes were almost closed, the embrace deepened.

Through the fabric, their chests pressed firmly together. His lips began to explore hers, slow but thorough.

Only when she, still stiff and clumsy, began to mimic his movements did everything start to quicken.

“Hh…!”

Nerys thought her fingers had gone cold. No — they were burning. Tremors of something close to ecstasy rippled through her body all at once. The cloak slipped from her shoulders and fell soundlessly to the floor.

Even as he devoured her lips, Cledwyn’s hands were infuriatingly composed. He slipped off his shirt, lifted her arms around his neck, then carried her effortlessly and laid her down upon the bed.

It was beginning. Her body froze in uncertainty, yet her arms obediently circled his neck.

He was truly a large man — she could tell from within his embrace. His body was hot, too. The fingers that had turned icy earlier now felt as if they might melt from his heat.

Her chest throbbed in waves. Her heart raced madly. Beneath her was the soft bed; above her, warmth and weight pressed down.

Her tension slowly eased. Being completely pinned beneath him oddly made her feel safe — at least she wouldn’t have to worry about how clumsy she seemed.

Her breathing quickened. His firm hand slipped beneath her clothes.

She let out a faint, trembling sigh. Every kiss, every touch grew more intense — sensations she had never known, like falling endlessly into some unfathomable depth…

His lips trailed from her cheek to her ear. Peck, peck. Those unfamiliar sensations sparked a startling pleasure within her. Just a touch, a kiss, a playful nip at her nape — and already she was trembling.

And just when she thought the final moment had come—

Nerys braced herself, expecting it to continue, squeezing her eyes shut. Fear of the pain, and of disappointing him, briefly stole her breath.

But Cledwyn’s next move wasn’t what she expected.

He suddenly pulled her close and stopped moving. Then, after a pause, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and drew the blanket up to cover her.

“Sleep well.”

Startled, she felt his arm pull her into his embrace once more. Relief and confusion mixed as she rested her head on his arm.

Thank goodness. That was the first thought that came.

Even after all she’d been through, she still didn’t know what was truly right to do with her own husband.

She mocked her foolishness silently but nestled her nose against his shoulder.

Then, to her own surprise, drifted peacefully to sleep.

(T/N: WTH Cledwyn!!!!??? That’s it?!?! )

❖ ❖ ❖

The grand hall of the Imperial Palace was crowded. Even on ordinary days, countless nobles came and went to curry favor with the Emperor and Empress — but today, the number was unusually large.

“Is it true the new Duchess will be presented today?”

“It must be. I heard she arrived in the capital yesterday. The Duke may be untouchable, but since his wife comes from humble origins, surely she wants to secure her position…”

The Emperor, seated on the high throne, looked down on the whispering courtiers with disdain. The Empress beside him muttered,

“They’re noisy.”

The Emperor smirked.

“It can’t be helped. We can’t throw them all out.”

Everyone knew that while they gossiped about how desperate the other side must be, in truth, they were all eager to catch a glimpse of the new Duchess. Gossip, after all, was the court’s favorite entertainment.

The nobles had been whispering daily about her — the “new Duchess.” But in truth, the Empress didn’t care what kind of woman she was.

What mattered was the balance of power.

And the visible evidence of it.

No matter how closely the Duke aligned himself with the new Pope or how often he defied the Imperial decrees, bowing before the throne would still signify peace in the Empire.

“Father, Mother.”

“Oh, you’re here, Camille.”

The first princess, Camille, approached through the parted crowd.

Camille rarely appeared in public unless absolutely required. The Empress called her to stand beside her and asked,

“Did you come to receive the Duke’s greeting?”

It sounded like a simple question — asking if she came to see today’s guests — but it was meant to remind Camille of her place.

A veiled warning: don’t try to steal attention from your younger sibling’s position.

Camille answered meekly.

“I came because I wanted to see the Duchess. I’ve never met her in person, and if I don’t now, I feel I might never get the chance.”

“Very well, behave yourself.”

The Emperor, aware that his daughter had once framed that young woman, spoke coldly.

“No need to provoke her. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

“Yes, Father.”

Camille replied obediently.

The courtiers, intrigued by her rare appearance, glanced toward her. Though she had relinquished her claim to the heir’s position, Camille still carried that innate air of command unique to the Imperial line.

Her looks were ordinary, yet her upright posture and the refined aura honed through royal training gave her a certain allure.

Many still sought her hand in marriage, but she rejected every proposal — perhaps to avoid drawing her parents’ suspicion.

Then—

“His Grace, Duke Cledwyn Maindulante, and Her Grace, Duchess Nerys Maindulante, are entering!”

The herald’s powerful voice echoed through the hall.

The murmuring nobles fell silent and turned toward the entrance. In the next instant, their eyes widened.

The man stepping through the doorway, wearing a black cloak over his gold-embroidered ceremonial uniform, exuded a dangerous presence — like a harbinger of death.

Sharp gray eyes, sculpted lips curved in a faint smile — an undeniably beautiful man.

Everyone present thought him a monster. The rumors that he had slain his own retainers only added to that image, but even without them, there was always something unnervingly different about him. Many had once joked that the young lady marrying him must be pitiful.

But today, beside him, stood a woman.

Because of the rumors and suspicions surrounding her, the nobles had imagined someone vulgar and cunning — a pretty face hiding deceit. Yet the moment they saw her, all doubts vanished, replaced by awe.

Her delicate features drew soft lines, but there was nothing timid about her. With calm, composed eyes, she simply—

Captured them.

As if she owned not just the ground beneath her feet but the entire hall itself.

The Jeweled Eyes — the rumor of their manifestation outside the royal line was true. The nobles were shaken.

The Duchess of Maindulante, hand in hand with her husband, walked with the light grace of a fairy. Their perfect balance and elegance made them seem unreal — otherworldly.

Even without the Jeweled Eyes, her noble lineage alone, second only to the royal family of Bistor, was unmistakable. Some even sighed aloud.

As Crown Princess, Nerys had worn dresses that displayed the dignity of the royal house rather than her own beauty.

Off-shoulder gowns with long, heavy skirts made the tall royal women appear like angels descended from heaven.

But for the smaller, narrow-shouldered Nerys, those same designs had drowned her.

Now, as Duchess, she needed no such attire.

The violet gown she wore hugged her slender neck and arms, then flared softly from the waist like a bell, brushing the floor with light grace. Simple in silhouette, yet the finest fabric and lavish jewels made her status undeniable.

The Duke and Duchess bowed lightly beneath the Imperial couple’s throne.

“Your Majesty, Your Imperial Highness.”

“So, the Duke has come. And this must be…”

Under the Emperor’s piercing gaze, Nerys smiled.

“Long live the great Emperor, whose majesty endures for all generations. I am Nerys Maindulante.”

As all eyes fixed upon her and the Emperor, Camille’s gaze twisted sharply with rage.

Never once had she missed a target — until now. Again and again, this one had slipped through her grasp.

Nerys knew that hunter’s persistent glare all too well. But that was why she straightened her back all the more.

After all these years, they were finally face-to-face.

The last murderer.