Chapter 30
Beatrice slowly closed her eyes. Her heart fluttered pleasantly.
Given how perfectly the mood was set, she figured there was no way he wouldn’t kiss her. Of course, Caesar had once failed to write his name on the fan she offered him, but this time, Beatrice decided to place her trust in him.
And Caesar granted her wish. Though, it fell somewhat short of her expectations.
“…My apologies.”
What brushed against her and quickly withdrew in the blink of an eye was a brief peck—a bird kiss. The softness and warmth she felt in that fleeting moment disappeared before she could even savor it. Beatrice was left blankly dazed for no reason at all.
At this rate, this clumsy man was bound to pull away. How should she coax him into giving her a longer kiss? She kept her mouth shut and turned the thought over in her head. As a result, she didn’t reply to his apology.
How Caesar interpreted her silence, she didn’t know, but he looked extremely flustered and at a loss.
“You said you liked this place… and the hug… I got swept up in the moment without realizing. If it made you uncomfortable, I apologize.”
What was this completely baseless remark? Beatrice almost burst into laughter at the absurdity of it. On the battlefield, he might have been a merciless mercenary, but the Caesar standing before her now looked no different from a bumbling young man.
“In that case, I should apologize too.”
He furrowed his brows, as if he didn’t understand.
“What do you mean?”
“You might have found my lips unpleasant.”
Her tone playful as she gazed up at him, Caesar’s face stiffened as he responded seriously.
“Not at all. I was the one who kissed you first, wasn’t I?”
“And I responded to it.”
“But still…”
“Why would you think I’d find my husband’s kiss unpleasant? Did I show even the slightest hint of that?”
“That’s…”
“More than anything, it was so short, I couldn’t even judge if it was pleasant or not. Honestly, the kiss we shared during the ceremony might have lasted longer.”
At her words, Caesar silently looked down at her face. No matter how she studied his expression, his handsome face remained as unmoving as a statue.
Maybe he was simply trying to read the nuance of her words, but even that blank expression made her heart pound so much it felt like it might burst. Leaving everything else aside, his face alone made her think marrying him was the right decision.
“Would you give me one more chance?”
While Caesar hesitated, Beatrice coaxed him again. Fortunately, this time he seemed to understand her intent.
“…Are you sure it’s alright?”
Beatrice suddenly grew curious. What exactly was this man so worried about? Was he afraid he might get rejected by a woman who was clearly head over heels for him?
Instead of answering, she looped her arms from his waist around his neck and pulled him down. The large man had no choice but to lean in toward her.
Everything was perfect. Their lips met, soft and sweet. The kiss, deeper than before, left them both slightly breathless. Even the warmth of their shared breaths felt too precious to lose. Beatrice couldn’t stop smiling the entire time their lips were joined, overwhelmed by happiness.
It couldn’t be called a skillful kiss, not even as a compliment. His tongue was rushed, and their lips fumbled to find each other.
His arms, wrapped around her waist, were stiff like those of a wooden puppet, but even that felt perfect to her.
With just the right amount of clumsiness for a newlywed couple, the two of them shared a kiss that lasted a long while.
***
Perhaps it was the gentle mood of their first kiss, but their wedding night proceeded more smoothly than Beatrice had feared.
Strictly speaking, there were a few hiccups, but they were minor enough to be well worth enduring.
“I’ll wait until you’ve fully recovered from the journey.”
“You still need time to adjust to the territory…”
“You need to be mentally prepared…”
Caesar’s evasive attempts to postpone the wedding night were easy enough for Beatrice to see through, and she firmly insisted on that night.
“No. It has to be tonight. Unless you’re planning to make me the tragic Margravine who was shunned by her husband from the very first night.”
Faced with her resolute expression and words, he finally surrendered.
Despite having pushed for it so strongly, once the sun set and the bridal chamber was prepared, she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Still, she was a ready bride.
After her bath, the maids dressed her neatly. Wearing a clean and modest nightgown, Beatrice entered the bedroom with a book on noble couples’ bedroom etiquette—received from her nanny—clutched to her chest like scripture.
In truth, the book left many details vague and omitted, so she still wasn’t entirely sure what would happen. She had considered asking one of her older sisters, who surely had more experience, but they were always busy, and she herself had been overwhelmed with wedding preparations.
Still, one thing was clear: the bodies of a man and a woman had to unite in a specific way, and with Caesar, she felt an optimistic confidence that whatever it entailed, she would be fine.
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