Chapter 2.7

A knight clad in pitch-black armor and a bride in a tattered wedding dress—it was nothing short of a scene from a forced marriage.  

“Ugh…”  

Now even nausea was setting in.  

Clinging desperately to him, Livie gagged as Boris tried to manage both the horse and her at the same time.  

“Sorry, Livie. I was just worried you wouldn’t be able to breathe.”  

His voice carried genuine concern.  

Indeed, he seemed entirely sincere—about everything.  

“You’re apologizing for the wrong thing! That’s not what you should be sorry for!”  

Livie, her face pale, raised her voice sharply.  

Then, she suddenly noticed something odd.  

The knights in black armor surrounding them were riding at a steady pace, keeping formation.  

“Those… those men in black…”  

It was clear that they had begun moving in perfect unison as soon as Boris started riding.  

And this formation…  

“They’re my knights.”  

“Your knights?”  

“Yeah.”  

“They’re really your knights?”  

Not just anyone could command knights.  

To be a knight’s lord required status, power, the ability to lead, and martial prowess.  

“What, don’t believe me?”  

His voice sounded strangely forlorn.  

“No, it’s not that…”  

Livie bit her lip to stop herself from hastily apologizing.  

Apologize? Why should I? I’m the one who deserves an apology!  

“They’re all my knights. As soon as the war ended, they rode for three days straight to get here. I told them I’d go alone, but they insisted on coming along.”  

“War?”  

The only recent war she could think of was the bloody seven-year battle for the throne.  

Then she remembered what he had said about becoming a Duke.  

The hero who ended the seven-year war, rewarded with a Dukedom…  

“The Kalini Knight Order?”  

“Yeah, they’re my knights.”  

“You’re the Crazy Crow?”  

Livie muttered in disbelief.  

“Yeah, I told you I became a Duke.”  

He had indeed said that.  

But it had sounded so far-fetched that she hadn’t taken it seriously.  

The Kalini Knight Order.  

Their banner bore the image of a crow cradling a white rose.  

A crow and a rose—an incongruous combination that made Livie feel as though she were caught between dream and reality.  

“That’s why I came to get you.”  

He smiled down at her, his expression unexpectedly kind and beautiful despite the situation.  

“Because you’re my bride.”  

He buried his face in her voluminous hair.  

She could hear the sound of him inhaling deeply, and his warm breath brushed against the nape of her neck.  

“N-no, I’m…”  

“You’re?”  

At her hesitant denial, Boris lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes terrifyingly intense.  

She was experiencing firsthand what it meant to see someone on the brink of madness.  

“Um, shouldn’t we talk about this?”  

She managed to divert the conversation.  

“Aren’t we talking now?”  

“Not like this.”  

“Not like this?”  

He furrowed his brow slightly.  

As the wind swept his bangs back, his expression became even clearer.  

“A proper conversation.”  

“Ah.”  

He finally seemed to understand and nodded.

“Right, we’ve been apart for so long, there’s been a lack of conversation.”  

“Exactly! Don’t you think so too? Doesn’t something feel strange and off?” 

Livie eagerly asked back.  

“Yeah. Let’s have plenty of conversation when we get to my castle.”  

His violet eyes narrowed with laughter.  

For a moment, she almost replied, “Okay, sure,” but then felt something oddly out of place.  

“Um, what kind of conversation are we talking about…?”  

With a bright smile, he replied, 

“A conversation of bodies.”  

At that moment, Livie’s face turned completely pale.  

“…”  

Seeing Livie frozen like a wax figure, he gently called out to her, 

“Livie?”  

Clip-clop, clip-clop.  

“Livie?”  

Clip-clop, clip-clop.  

Despite his repeated calls, Livie didn’t respond. Only the sound of horse hooves pounding the ground reverberated around them.  

Amid the swiftly passing scenery, Livie remained mentally frozen.  

“…”  

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling dizzy? Should we stop and rest for a bit?”  

Looking at Livie’s pale face, he asked anxiously.  

“You, you… body conversation… where did you…”  

Before she could even ask where he learned such a thing, Boris answered nonchalantly, 

“You said you didn’t like this kind of conversation.”  

“When did I ever say that!”  

Boris tilted his head quizzically, his eyes as innocent as a newborn chick. This only made her more incredulous.  

“You… dragged me here like this, intending to assault me… You… you bastard… you’re awful… you…”  

Her words spilled out haltingly, unable to form coherent sentences due to the shock.  

“Assault?”  

As if he couldn’t believe she’d say such a thing, his face stiffened in shock.  

“If not that, then what!”  

Watching Livie hiss like an angry snake, Boris’s expression softened as if he finally understood.  

Then, like a mother bird comforting her chick, he began patting her back.  

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Livie. We’re adults now. We’ve long passed the age when it’s okay to get married. You can be honest with me.”  

The conversation returned to square one. Livie felt like biting her tongue out of frustration.  

“Because of the war, everyone’s been apart for so long. The period of abstinence is over. You don’t have to force yourself to endure anymore.”  

As he spoke with a serious expression, Livie thought to herself:  

‘This crazy man is actually making some sense.’  

Though his words were wildly off the mark, there was truth to them.  

The prolonged war for the throne, along with smaller conflicts at the borders, had dragged young men to the battlefield, leaving women to pass their prime unmarried.  

Some ended up marrying widowers or becoming mistresses to nobles who hadn’t fulfilled their military obligations.  

Even those who survived the war rarely returned home unscathed. The choice was often between dying on the battlefield or dying at home.  

That’s why she had assumed he was dead.  

When he suddenly left with a farewell, the villagers soon forgot him, and Livie became one of them.  

But now, here he was, alive and well, abducting her.  

And not just on any day—on her ‘sacred’ wedding day.  

A wedding demanded by none other than the King himself.  

Did the King, who had personally arranged her marriage, know that his bride was now being abducted by another man?  

If he knew, what would happen?  

‘Everyone would die.’  

Whether by the King’s hand or her husband’s—or rather, her soon-to-be husband, the Duke of Resette.  

Livie closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the dizzying thoughts.  

But Boris seemed utterly unconcerned about such worries as he comforted her.  

“It’s alright, Livie. My first time will be yours.”  

His gaze grew softer and deeper.  

Even the finest amethyst couldn’t replicate the color of his eyes.  

The rumors about violet eyes being demonic must have originated from their extraordinary beauty, which seemed otherworldly.  

Even the day she first met Boris as a child, she had been captivated by those eyes, staring at them as if hypnotized.  

Livie found herself momentarily entranced by his gaze before snapping back to reality at his words.  

“What, what?”  

“I’ve cherished it for you.”  

He declared solemnly.  

“Cherished what?”  

Livie asked dumbfoundedly.  

Despite being so close physically, their conversation felt as if they were in entirely different dimensions.  

“When you’re at war, there are difficult moments. Sometimes men resolve things among themselves, you know.”  

She noticed his cheekbones flush slightly as if embarrassed.  

“Among men?”  

Livie was startled.  

The tales of war, often shared by drunken old men, inevitably included such topics.  

Stories of how many heads they’d taken in a day would naturally lead to crude jokes and lewd tales.  

In groups of young, virile men with no women around, they had to find their own ways to deal with their urges.  

“To be honest, I also…”  

‘You also?’  

Don’t say it! Don’t say the next part! I don’t want to hear it!  

Livie screamed silently inside.  

But her silent plea was in vain as Boris continued his confession.  

“But I took care of it myself, so please don’t hate me too much.”  

He spoke with a sincere and sorrowful expression.  

“What, yourself? What?”  

Livie couldn’t comprehend what she was hearing.  

She wanted to believe she’d misheard due to the loud sound of hooves.  

“Each time, I thought of you.”  

His honeyed voice pierced her ears.  

“So, I was with you, in a way.”  

His proud smile left Livie staring at him in disbelief.  

Something was deeply, fundamentally wrong.  

‘How does that make any sense…?’  

Livie couldn’t even voice her thoughts, her mouth merely opening and closing wordlessly.  

The man holding her tightly as they rode was utterly convinced of his truth, without a shred of doubt.  

“You’re my first and my last.”  

His whispered words left Livie feeling increasingly faint.  

“Trust me. I can do this. I’ve practiced countless times in my imagination…”  

“Stop! Stop it!”  

Unable to bear it any longer, Livie covered her ears and shouted.  

“Don’t say it! Don’t say things like that! That’s not how it works! Why would I… no, I don’t believe it, it’s not true, it can’t be me!”  

Her cries prompted Boris to look at her with an even more sorrowful expression.