Chapter 55
Epilogue I.
To get straight to the point, I did not become the Duchess. More precisely, it was because Claude himself brought down the ducal house with his own hands and destroyed it. But the details of that are complicated, so more on that later.
Though I didn’t become a duke’s wife, what mattered now—having at least succeeded in becoming Claude’s wife—wasn’t the complicated affairs of the empire, but rather the business of my own affair, which was about to start, seemingly without context.
When I fell into a sleep like I was passing out from exhaustion, I could’ve sworn it was still bright outside the window, but after closing and opening my eyes once, it was already a night with twinkling stars.
In the midst of that, a brazen hand lifting the hem of my clothes brought a sense of déjà vu. Wasn’t this the exact same scene as that night?
At this point, I started to wonder if ambushing a sleeping person was his secret taste, but considering the kind of work he did, maybe it was inevitable.
Even with my head still half asleep, I welcomed the familiar warmth and scent burrowing into my arms with open arms.
“Mmm, Young Master…”
His hand, invading under the blanket as swiftly and precisely as when handling his outside work, was, fortunately, not cold. In fact, far from being cold, it was so hot it felt as if it had just come from a forge, kneading along my bare side and lower back as it passed.
“Young master. When was the last time I was even a young master? Were you dreaming or something?”
Unlike the heat of his hands warming my body, his voice was as cold and indifferent as ever, rousing me from my sleep.
I wasn’t offended. I’d spent too many years tangled up with him to be hurt by that kind of attitude.
“It’s been ages since we got married. You should call me ‘Honey’ now, Ayla.”
By now, I knew his true feelings were always hidden beneath sharp thorns like a chestnut burr.
“Honey, Claude… are you back?”
“Yeah.”
He answered smoothly, burying his face in my nape and breathing in.
Mm, as I thought, my husband’s just got a broken way of talking. Sometimes he can actually be pretty cute…
“Nothing happened, right?”
“Just things you don’t need to know about.”
And sometimes… maybe not so much.
“You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”
Claude nodded quietly, then murmured with a satisfied sigh.
“Haah, I missed you.”
The hot, humid breath tickled my neck, making the hairs on my nape stand up. I laughed and hunched my shoulders, only for him to pull me into his arms even more tightly, as if not willing to let me escape.
Though his build was almost beast-like, with his face buried in my neck, I still hugged him as tightly as I could. If a small gesture like this could ease his anxiety, I’d do it as much as he wanted.
Of course, my husband wasn’t the type to be satisfied with just such little things. The gentle time passed briefly, and before long, his purposeful hands began creeping downward.
His lips touched my nape and then began noisily sucking at my thin skin.
“Mmm…”
Just that made a chill run all the way up to my scalp, making my shoulders twitch. The sheet covering my body slipped down on its own.
“Finally, you’re making some sense.”
Claude muttered like a satiated beast, then buried his face in my now-exposed b*****s. No matter how many times I saw him, I could never quite get used to the sight of him, a man usually so indifferent, playing wantonly with my body like a lust-mad libertine.
“A wife waiting naked in bed. It’s like a dream, Ayla.”
With his looks, you’d expect him to be the type full of nothing but cleanliness, not lust. And yet, here he was, saying things like that…
“If you want, I can do it too. Just say the word.”
And piling it on even more.
For the record, Claude waiting for me naked… well, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…?
In any case, to think that a man who always lived with such an unsmiling face could find desire and joy only with me. It was incredibly satisfying.
Simply put, it turned me on.
The fire Claude was slowly lighting in me was spreading through my body.
Still busy fondling my b*****s, my husband’s face was soon caught in my hands, and as I pressed our lips together, I thought,
Whatever else, I had done well—more than well—to come back to his arms and not run away to the end.
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