Chapter 7
This act.
A deed whispered secretly among some women as pleasure, while priests teach it as a sacred union.
Yet, hearing it from her husband’s mouth, it sounded like a distasteful obligation that needed to be hastily done.
“Nnh, y-yes…”
For a moment, Freesia’s eyes welled up. Was this just because of the new pain she was experiencing? Instead of dwelling on deep thoughts, she clenched her eyes shut and panted.
She tried to focus on something else. For example, his hand supporting her back, his breath cascading over her shoulder and ear.
Gradually, the foreign sensation inside her deepened, filling her to the brim. The pressure seemed to fill her entire being, making it hard to breathe.
“A-Ah, ah, uht.”
Freesia wept in disbelief.
Do all women in this world go through this? Endure such pain?
They say one day she might find pleasure in this, but is that really possible?
‘And what about Izar?’
Was he finding pleasure in this embrace?
Freesia forced her eyes open to look at the man above her. However, her tears blurred her vision, making it even harder to see his expression in the darkness.
But when he leaned closer, his golden eyes peeked through his jet-black hair.
His brow was deeply furrowed, and a hot sigh escaped from between his lips.
“Haah.”
The urge to touch his cheek rose in her. She wanted to ask him.
What are you thinking right now?
But before she could raise her hand, their eyes met. His golden eyes had lost their usual brilliance, appearing dull and dry.
The moment his gaze captured her, the part of him filling her thrust deeper.
“Uugh…!”
Unable to hold back, she let out a pained whimper. The heavy thrusting inside her made her scratch the sheets with her toes in desperation.
She couldn’t afford to look at his face, struggling not to lose consciousness or burst into tears from the pain.
“Uh, ah, aht…!”
Every time he thrust violently into her, a sharp sound echoed in the room. The high-pitched, thin cries seemed unlike her own voice.
But amidst the turmoil, Freesia thought,
‘Ah, but maybe this is a blessing.’
With this one act, she would properly remain as his wife. Even if she was unloved, the marriage and consummation were finally complete.
At least, she wasn’t like her mother.
***
It was a first night without a single tender word, carried out in darkness.
Freesia felt overwhelmed even by that, but her heart burned and turned into charred embers again the moment she caught sight of her husband’s stern face afterward.
Seeing him like this, you’d think that the pain he inflicted gave her nothing but pleasure. That she hadn’t given him even a moment of joy.
But perhaps, God had decided to bestow Freesia divine mercy for the first and last time.
That one single entanglement resulted in a pregnancy.
And that child brought a warm sunlight into her life, which had been submerged in a dark lake.
For the first time, people around her softened their attitude. Even the ‘disgrace of the territory’, the Duchess, was carrying the future heir.
And the changing environment gave her courage.
“Your Grace.”
It was the courage that made Freesia grab the sleeve of her husband, who was about to depart to fight the remnants of the rebels.
Izar frowned slightly as he looked down at her.
“What is it.”
“Um, when you return, could we… Could we decide on the baby’s name together.”
“…….”
“I don’t know any good names to give by myself.”
Izar scanned her with his dry eyes. At this point, her belly was already noticeably swollen.
For the first time, he responded with something other than sarcasm or a sigh.
“I’ll think about it when I get back.”
“…Yes!”
“I must leave now.”
“Yes, take… take care and return safely.”
That moment was perhaps her happiest in their three years of marriage.
After her husband left, Freesia stroked her belly every day, praying desperately.
“Little one, if you can’t, don’t resemble this mother of yours. Try to resemble your father.”
She hoped it would make the child more lovable.
‘Maybe Izar will love a child that looks just like him.’
Maybe he would even speak kindly to her when he came to see the baby.
“I love you, my little one.”
So please, be my lifeline.
But did the baby sense that Freesia’s whispers were not purely maternal?
One day, she experienced a sharp pain in her abdomen, followed by bleeding.
The baby died.
When Izar returned, Freesia lay in bed, a shell of herself. But as her husband entered, she reached out tremblingly.
“I’m s-sor…”
“……”
Faced by his stony silence, Freesia’s lips quivered.
The lost child was a boy.
Freesia, who had lost the heir, could say nothing at all.
After an agonizing silence, Izar finally spoke.
“…Maybe it’s for the best.”
Those words made Freesia’s head snap up.
‘For the best?’
What?
The baby’s death?
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