Side Story 2.1 – Honeymoon

The voices of milk and newspaper deliverymen were loud, and the rattling wagons and hurried footsteps of people heading to work urged the morning on.

But to Delilah, who lifted her heavy eyelids, only the sound of an early summer breeze sweeping through a quiet forest reached her ears. She was now in a place completely removed from the capital or any bustling city. Blinking sleepily, Delilah recalled the journey that brought her here.

From the southern coastal villa, a full day’s carriage ride led to peaceful, humble farmland scattered across the plains, far from the city. Another carriage ride up a gentle hill, and nestled among a grove of maple trees stood a charming two-story mansion.

The Erica family’s mansion, with no special name, was simply called the Maple Mansion.

Choosing it as their honeymoon spot was entirely Delilah’s decision. The kind of person who would hole up in her room on holidays, she didn’t want to spend her honeymoon bustling about outdoors. She figured she wouldn’t be able to rest properly in a crowded resort. But she didn’t want to just hide away anywhere, either. It was her first trip with Eric after marriage, after all—she wanted it to feel special.

She’d been thinking vaguely that a quiet, scenic place would be nice, and Margaret’s mention of the Maple Mansion clinched it. Around that time, Margaret had gotten into the habit of sharing memories from Delilah’s childhood while helping her prepare for the wedding.

“Do you remember the village where we went to see the autumn leaves?”

As always, Margaret’s reminiscence made Delilah vaguely recall her childhood: napping in a pretty mansion in a quiet forest. Thinking back, Delilah decided on the honeymoon spot right then. Eric, as always, simply nodded at her words.

So, after the wedding, Delilah and Eric headed straight to the Maple Mansion by carriage. Exhausted from all the people, Delilah nodded off in the carriage, and Eric laid her across his lap to sleep. After drifting in and out, she found herself waking up in the mansion’s bedroom.

And then… remembering up to that point, Delilah’s cheeks flushed red and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Eric had clearly been considerate of tired Delilah, but even so, he hadn’t let her go until she was half-unconscious with sleep. She could distinctly recall what he’d said the night before the wedding:

“You’ll need to sleep well to get through it.”

It was obvious now that he hadn’t meant the wedding itself. Last night, Delilah hadn’t been able to “get through it”—she’d simply collapsed.

But where was Eric now? Rolling over on the bed with her eyes squeezed shut, Delilah suddenly realized the spot next to her was empty and opened her eyes wide. Groaning as she sat up, the thin summer blanket slid off her. Her body, covered all night, was soft and clean, as if someone had washed her. Late morning sunlight streamed through the open curtains, painting shining lines on her pale skin.

‘If he was going to wash me, he could have dressed me, too.’ Muttering as she looked down at herself, Delilah hurriedly pulled the blanket over her body. Even at a glance, red marks stretched from her collarbone down her ribs and to her side.

“Ah…”

She pressed her hand to a particularly red spot near her chest, and a sharp sigh slipped through her teeth. It was a strange sensation—like pressing a fading bruise, painful and yet not.

Delilah pulled the blanket aside and began to examine her body. Every time she pressed one of the especially red marks, she felt something odd. Tracing Eric’s marks across her skin for a long time, Delilah didn’t notice Eric watching her until his low laughter reached her ears.

“Is it fascinating?”

“Uh…?”

Delilah’s face turned bright red as she looked up. Feeling her ears burn, she hurriedly pulled the blanket over herself again. The poor blanket, grabbed and tossed and grabbed again, rustled pitifully. Listening to the sounds from behind the white blanket, Delilah peeked out.

In the sunlit bedroom, a table was set with a hearty breakfast. Fluffy pancakes, fresh salad, croissants stuffed with cheese and marmalade, crispy bacon and sausage, soft-boiled eggs—all arranged beautifully. Eric’s hands were busy moving dishes from a trolley to the table.

‘He’s handsome. Why does Eric look handsome even in the morning?’

Eric wore comfortable pants and a thin shirt, covered by a house robe. It was both familiar and unfamiliar. The deep green robe, too large to fully cover his broad shoulders, rustled softly as he moved. Delilah frowned slightly. Why does that color suit him so well? It doesn’t suit me at all.

Tilting her head but not missing a single detail from Eric’s head to toe, Delilah quickly hid under the blanket again when she sensed his gaze. Her heart thumped in time with his steps as he walked across the room. Why was she suddenly so shy? She didn’t understand why her whole body felt hot.

“Are you very tired?”

Creak—the mattress sank on one side. Still hiding her face under the blanket, Delilah watched the shadow of his hand stretch across it.

“Even if you go back to sleep, eat breakfast first.”

His hand covered her head through the summer blanket, transmitting his warmth. The early summer air was cool enough to make the blanket feel nice, and his warmth was pleasantly comforting. Delilah nodded unconsciously. A moment later, she peeked out from under the blanket, and Eric’s gaze met hers as he sat at the edge of the bed, looking at her.

“Eric.”

“Yes.”

At his short and immediate reply, Delilah smiled bashfully.

“I… my clothes…”

Eric, smiling back at her, completely ignored Delilah’s words.

“Huh?”

He wrapped Delilah up in the blanket and lifted her straight up. With every step he took, Delilah’s curly hair swayed. Eric set her down gently on a chair and wrapped the blanket snugly around her shoulders.

“What about my clothes?”

“To get them, I’d have to call the servant now.”

“Just call them!”

“I don’t want to.”

A faint smile lingered on Eric’s face as he bundled Delilah up in the blanket. After making sure she was wrapped up, he kissed her white cheek and whispered.

“It’s a morning for just the two of us.”

“…”

“Do we really need to call someone?”

Eric was just too handsome. Even his voice was too nice—it was dangerous. With that expression, with that voice, whispering like that, how could she demand her clothes? Wily Eric Briar. He’d gotten even wilier as he got older.

“But how am I supposed to eat like this?”

Delilah wriggled in a last attempt at hope. With Eric having wrapped her so tightly, all she could do was wiggle. Sitting across from her, Eric watched Delilah’s little movements, his golden eyes sparkling with laughter.

Tsk… Even knowing she was being teased, Delilah couldn’t get annoyed, and that was the problem. Eric was just too handsome. It was serious. Not only was he handsome, he had a good voice, and he always smelled nice. His arms and thighs were firm, his skin smooth. Eric was so handsome it was honestly a problem.

Delilah, not even realizing she was head-over-heels for him, just made little frustrated noises like an angry cat. Right in front of her lips, Eric held out a forkful of pancake. Of course, Delilah ate it. The salty pancake with maple syrup was so sweet that her mood instantly improved.

“Is it good?”

“Yeah.”

Eric laughed, his voice rumbling in his throat. Delilah forced herself to keep her composure and pointed her chin at the salad plate.

“I want salad too.”

“Okay.”

She bit into the forkful of salad he brought to her mouth, pouting a little. As she chewed, Eric sliced a sausage for himself. Delilah pointed again with her chin, and Eric, reading her cues perfectly, fed her what she wanted. It was a strange, but lovely, peaceful breakfast.

The plates that had filled the table were now empty. Most had gone into Eric’s mouth, but Delilah was full, too. Eric ate much more than she’d expected.

“You really eat a lot.”

“It takes energy to use your brain.”

“Hmmm…”

Whether Delilah found it fascinating or not, Eric finished his meal neatly and began clearing the table. Delilah was still bundled up in the blanket, and Eric quickly stacked the dishes on the trolley before she could do anything. After tidying up, he lifted Delilah again.

“Aren’t I heavy?”

“You’re…”

“Don’t say I’m small.”

“…You’re light.”

Eric set Delilah down on the bed and put his hand on the thin blanket wrapped around her. Delilah suddenly remembered she was n*ked under the blanket, unlike Eric, who was dressed in a shirt, pants, and a robe.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Eric tilted his head and paused, while Delilah clung tightly to the edge of the blanket.

“I’m still tired…”

Eric tilted his head a bit more, his hand hovering in the sunlight.

‘Is this not it…?’ She thought he was going to pull the blanket off, but looking up at Eric’s face, she saw no sign of excitement. Instead, Delilah’s cheeks flushed red.

“…Ah.”

Eric’s low voice finally came out. The quiet sound in the room tickled Delilah’s chest. She almost wanted to bury herself under the blanket again.