I Tamed the Monstrous Prince - Chapter 78

Schedule: Wed and Sun

Chapter 78

So, what was it, exactly? A cold sweat seemed to seep from every pore.

“Well, you see, it’s…it’s…” I stammered, desperate to find the words, but Cesar beat me to it. He held the book open before me, even pointing with his finger, as if worried I might mistake the illustration for something else.

It depicted two adoring ducks, nestled together, sharing the warmth of their eggs. Dizziness swept over me; my vision blurred. It felt as though a metal weight had slammed into my skull.

“It’s, it’s…well, you see…” My usually eloquent tongue fumbled. How could I possibly explain this? No clever solution presented itself, no matter how hard I racked my brain. Only a nervous giggle escaped my lips.

Should I tell him I couldn’t lay eggs? Or perhaps offer a summary of my s*x education lessons?

“Ren?” Cesar’s eyes, clutching my sleeve, seemed unusually clear and innocent today. Or was that just my imagination? What could I possibly say to that bright, open face? How could I make him understand?

Countless questions swirled in my mind. Something about flowers and bees? Or was it butterflies? Pistils and stamens? Men and women coming together in…that way…

“Oh, no!” A shiver ran down my spine, and I cried out, quickly covering my mouth with both hands, remembering the maids stationed outside the bedroom door. I hoped it hadn’t sounded too strange.

A tremor ran through my body. I shook my head vehemently. No. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to say those words. How could I explain… that?

“The fruit of love.” Oblivious to my distress, Cesar continued to speak of love’s fruition. The absurdity of the situation sent another wave of dizziness washing over me. Perhaps fainting would be a welcome escape.

“Well, you see…”

“How many will we have?” He pressed further, his question vaulting far beyond my meager attempts at comprehension. How many? I couldn’t have any!

“Well, there’s…” Despite my evident panic and the beads of sweat forming on my brow, Cesar’s interrogation showed no signs of abating. The situation spiraled further into the realm of the surreal.

“How do we make them?”

“Huh?” The question, so pointed and precise, felt like a sharp spear piercing my skull. My mind went blank. My body, frozen stiff, refused to cooperate. I slowly turned my head to meet his gaze, a picture of pure innocence.

His face, radiating boundless expectation and trust, waited patiently for my answer. How could I possibly disappoint those eyes that looked at me with such unwavering faith?

I squeezed my eyes shut. There was no other way.

“H-hands.”

“Hands?”

“We hold hands…and sleep.” I knew it was a cowardly excuse. But I simply couldn’t say the words. How could I explain… that?

So, I silently extended my hand.

“Hands.” He took my hand without hesitation, his warmth seeping into my skin. With my other hand, I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

“Yes, we hold hands like this, and then we sleep.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. So, I lied. A white lie, I told myself, to preserve Cesar’s innocence. It was necessary, I had to believe.

“Hee hee.” A radiant smile bloomed on his face. His unguarded joy was breathtaking. A pang of guilt shot through me.

“Well then, shall we continue reading? I can’t wait to hear the rest of the story.” I quickly steered the conversation away from the treacherous topic of love’s fruition. That particular illustration had to be skipped.

And so, our wedding night deepened. Perhaps fueled by the guilt of my deception, I read the storybook with more fervor than usual, reciting tale after tale.

Our clasped hands remained intertwined throughout the night.