Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 18

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Jayden seemed furious, but made an effort to appear composed.

“Fine. If you insist on being stubborn, so be it.”

Just as she thought he had given up, he shoved her hard with his free hand. Caught off guard, Fiona tumbled into the curved cavern interior and looked up at him in disbelief.

“Go on, manage as best you can. You won’t need a light. Not seeing that thing’s face will be better for your sanity.”

His refusal to give her light was clearly pure spite. Whether she fainted or collapsed at the sight of her husband was surely none of his concern. As she opened her mouth to protest, the flickering lamp illuminated Jayden’s face. For an instant, an expression of pain crossed his features, then vanished.

Before Fiona could speak, Jayden preempted her.

“I’ll return in three hours. Well then, have a pleasant night. Your Highness, the Grand Duchess.”

His exaggerated bow transferred his anger to her. She desperately wanted to wipe that smug look off his handsome face. Turning her back on him as expected, she stubbornly walked further inside, and behind her, Jayden’s shout rang out.

“You’ll crawl out on all fours, your nether parts torn and bleeding! It’ll be no use crying and clinging to me then! Mark my words, Fiona!”

With his curse-like screech trailing behind her, she groped her way forward.

After only a few steps, the surroundings became utterly dark. Soon, Jayden’s voice faded as well. Whether he had ascended the stairs, not a glimmer of light showed when she looked back.

“Madman, through and through.”

Muttering as if to vent her frustration, Fiona briefly leaned against the wall and slid down to sit. It was not that she was already tired or wished to give up. But there was something she needed to do before consummating the marriage.

‘You’ll be milked for your offspring like one of your sows and then discarded.’

With Jayden’s voice ringing in her ears, Fiona reached into a hidden pocket inside her nightdress and withdrew a small vial kept alongside the fragrant oil. A magical potion she had obtained with great difficulty, spending all the money she had before coming north.

‘They said a single dose prevents pregnancy for a year.’

Though she could not see, Fiona quickly uncapped it and drank. Having heard it took effect immediately after consumption, she had delayed taking it until the very last moment.

‘I hope it’s not a fraud.’

If the potion proved fake and she conceived…

‘I’ll think about that when the time comes.’

This had been her plan from the moment the northward journey was decided. Fiona did not wish to immediately breed with any man she married. Because of what the word “family” meant to her.

Fiona’s attachment to family ran so deep that from the moment she first laid eyes on Rose—a girl who might share barely a drop of her blood, or perhaps none at all—she had resolved to protect her with her life. So a child of her own womb went without saying.

For her, this was a form of self-defence. Before creating her most critical vulnerability, she needed to ascertain what kind of man her husband was, and what kind of place she would be living in.

And at this moment, Fiona was grateful for her foresight. Even from brief observation, the situation surrounding her was an utter mess. A husband of unknown nature, a Jayden spouting incomprehensible nonsense, the Emperor and Count pressing her to produce an heir immediately.

Until she grasped the full picture and assured her own safety, she could not bear a child. Though she had invoked the Dragon’s Pact, the Count had set no deadline for an heir. She would actively engage in all matrimonial matters and continue efforts to conceive. She simply chose not to do so immediately.

‘It’s merely postponing, not refusing.’

Her actions were meant to protect any future child, not to violate the Pact, so it should be acceptable. Judging by the absence of divine punishment falling upon her head, her little scheme seemed to have worked.

‘But the consummation, that I cannot avoid.’