Chapter 4

The s*x, which Catherine thought would end after just one time, continued throughout the night without stopping. Henry, seemingly tireless, would mix bodies with her every day, never ending it with just one round.

Her body, tormented throughout the night, was in agony. Every muscle, from her limbs to her abdomen and back, screamed in pain.

Thanks to the teachings of the Duke of Orleans, who believed that maintaining the dignity of a noble lady was more important than life itself, Catherine had never engaged in strenuous physical activity in her entire life. The closest she had come to outdoor activities was riding a horse for a short stroll around the vicinity.

For someone who had never even run out of breath, it was only natural that moving her body enough to drench herself in sweat every day would take its toll. Even the simple act of sitting up in bed made her groan in pain.

Of course, she couldn’t tell the maids attending to her, “My whole body aches because I’ve been spreading my legs under the Marquis every night.” So, no matter how much she hurt, she had to maintain a poker face and pretend she wasn’t in pain.

At times like this, her noble status didn’t feel like an honor but like a suffocating shackle. It was hard for her to accept that, simply because she was a noble, she couldn’t do things that were natural for any human being—like expressing pain when she hurt or crying when she was sad. The honor of being a noble undoubtedly came at the cost of freedom.

“…Ugh.”

Though it was still early, she was alone in bed. Henry, who claimed to have never slept in, always left the bedroom before dawn to start his day, leaving Catherine to wake up alone in the cold bed every morning.

“…A model of a diligent knight.”

Turning her head slightly to glance back, Catherine muttered quietly to herself. The already large bed felt even larger. At least when Henry’s massive body filled the space, it didn’t feel quite so empty. Feeling a strange sense of disappointment, Catherine sighed once more.

Though she and Henry were not lovers bound by love, the romantic notion of waking up together in bed was something anyone would have imagined at least once in their life. She couldn’t help but feel disheartened by the constant letdown.

Even if it was a contractual marriage, the stark contrast between day and night was a reality she still struggled to accept.

Catherine slowly lowered her legs over the side of the bed. In her heart, she wanted to lie in bed all day and rest her exhausted body. But as the lady of this grand castle, there were duties she had to fulfill, whether she wanted to or not.

After letting out a short sigh, she stood up, only to hear someone knocking on the bedroom door. Without even opening the door to check, Catherine already knew who it was.

Marina.

The nursemaid who had raised Henry in place of his parents. She was effectively the true power within the castle.

“Come in.”

At the same time, she was someone who utterly despised Catherine.

No sooner had Catherine spoken than the bedroom door swung open. The rough and inconsiderate action, unbefitting someone waking the lady of the castle, made Catherine furrow her brows. Such behavior would have been unthinkable in her own family, the Duke’s household. In the presence of someone they served, attendants were expected to barely even breathe loudly.

But Marina seemed indifferent to Catherine’s status or the reason she was staying in the castle. She strode confidently into the room and placed the items she was carrying onto the bedside table.

Catherine, caught off guard by Marina’s brazen behavior, was the one who ended up feeling flustered. She had never been treated this way before. The only person she had ever shown vulnerability to was her grandfather, the Duke of Orleans.

While she hadn’t expected to be welcomed warmly, she also hadn’t anticipated being treated so coldly. Marina’s icy gaze made Catherine shrink back. The cold treatment that had begun the moment she entered Leonard Castle only grew worse with each passing day.

It was because her husband, Henry, didn’t treat her with the respect a wife deserved. With both the ‘master’ of the castle, Henry, and the influential Marina disregarding her, the other servants naturally followed suit and looked down on her.

Most noblewomen would choose to address the servants’ disloyalty by reporting it to their husbands. In essence, a wife’s prestige was determined by how much her husband cherished her.

However, Henry only spoke to Catherine in bed, making it nearly impossible to discuss what happened during the day. She could, theoretically, bring it up while lying in his arms after their coupling, but she didn’t want to stoop to that. Whispering complaints while n*ked in a man’s embrace was something a barmaid might do, not a noblewoman. Catherine refused to degrade her own worth.

“Where is the Marquis?”

So, she straightened her back, put on a haughty expression, and pretended not to be afraid or sad. She wanted to show strength, even in the face of Marina’s insolence.

“…He is in the study downstairs.”

Though her words were formally polite, her tone was laced with disrespect. It was extremely rude to answer a question from one’s superior without even looking at them. No matter how much she relied on the master of the castle, Marina seemed to have forgotten that her status was still beneath Catherine’s. Her insolence had gone too far, and Catherine could no longer tolerate it.

“That’s enough.”

Marina’s hands, which had been preparing Catherine’s grooming, froze mid-air. It was likely due to the sharp and commanding tone of Catherine’s voice.

“Marina. How many years did you say you’ve served the Marquis?”

Only then did Marina turn to face Catherine. Her tone and demeanor were filled with defiance, as if to ask why such a question was being asked.

“I’ve been with Lord Leonard since the moment he was born. It’s been over twenty years now.”

As she spoke, Marina tilted her chin upward. Her face was full of contempt, as if to say she wasn’t afraid of a mere figurehead of a Marchioness. Catherine, who had endured Marina’s behavior for nearly a month without losing her temper, must have seemed laughable to her.

But Marina was mistaken.

Catherine’s silence in the face of her insolence wasn’t out of fear of Marina’s close relationship with Henry. It was because Catherine planned to establish her position as the lady of Leonard Castle before addressing the servants’ misconduct. Causing conflict with the staff before earning Henry’s trust would only harm her. So, she had chosen to overlook Marina’s and the other servants’ faults.

Catherine, who had been quietly observing Marina’s face, reached out her hand.

“W-what are you doing…!”

Catherine grabbed the glass bowl Marina had placed on the table and, without hesitation, pushed it off the edge. The bowl shattered against the hard marble floor, the loud crash echoing painfully in Marina’s ears.

Marina instinctively closed her eyes as shards of glass scattered everywhere. She likely hadn’t expected Catherine, who had always sat quietly like a well-made doll, to do such a thing.

Satisfied with Marina’s startled expression—the first she had seen since marrying Henry—Catherine allowed herself a faint smile.

The abuse she had endured from her grandfather had given her an unexpected resilience and boldness, uncharacteristic of a noblewoman.

Now that she looked closely, Marina’s face was lined with wrinkles. Likely from years of hard labor, she appeared much older than her actual age. Staring intently at her, Catherine spoke again.

“Clean it up.”

Her voice was calm, as if she were discussing something mundane, even though she had intentionally pushed the bowl to the floor and was now ordering Marina to clean up the shards.

Her grandfather had taught her that the best way to subdue insolent subordinates was to say as little as possible. Rather than scolding them with many words, a single command and a clear action were far more effective. When the Duke had first taught her how to assert dominance over underlings, Catherine had never imagined she would actually put it into practice.

This was why she couldn’t entirely hate her grandfather, despite her deep resentment toward him. As nonsensical as his teachings often seemed, they always proved to be correct in hindsight.

Just like now.

At Catherine’s simple command to clean up the glass, Marina’s face flushed red. She must have felt humiliated, having to bow down to someone she considered beneath her. Reluctantly, she bent down and began picking up the shards of glass, her hands trembling ever so slightly.

“I’ve cleaned it up, Madame.”

After quickly gathering the pieces, Marina stood up. She even wiped the floor with a damp cloth to ensure no tiny shards remained. But Catherine, without saying a word, reached out again and knocked the glass shards from Marina’s hands onto the floor.

“Madame!”

Marina immediately shouted as the floor she had just cleaned became messy once more.

“Clean it up.”

The same situation. The same tone.

Catherine, her eyes unflinching, issued the command again, her lips curling slightly upward.

She could repeat this as many times as it took.

If it meant crushing the arrogance of the woman who dared to mock her.