“Your Majesty.”

“However, Swan, I intend to allow you to use my name.”

“I….”

“Because you are my wife.”

The fingers that had brushed her cheek brushed away her curly hair. His eyes, staring at her from so close, were hazy. Swan shook her head slowly, her eyebrows furrowed.

“How could I dare to speak Your Majesty’s honourable name…?”

“Atlion.”

Swan closed her mouth. The hazy look in her eyes changed sharply. It was as if she was carefully taking in the contours of his face. Without warning, something soft pressed against her lips. She jerked and grabbed his shoulders. His heated lips crushed and rubbed against hers. Panting, she pushed herself against his chest.

Her wrists lacked the strength to push him away. She trembled briefly, and as she parted her lips to breathe, his hot tongue invaded, as though chastising her hesitation.

“Mm… ah…”

The muffled sound that escaped her was laced with unwilling sensuality. His large hand engulfed hers, firmly holding it, as though refusing to allow any further resistance. Their entwined tongues burned with an almost electric sensation. Her half-closed eyes flickered open, meeting his gaze.

“Haa…”

His eyes, heavy with unrestrained desire, glimmered with a strange, unfamiliar intensity. Swan squeezed her eyes shut and twisted her shoulders, struggling to push him away. He held her lower lip between his teeth, refusing to let go, and gave her tongue a soft bite. That brief sensation sent a sharp jolt through her body, igniting a deep discomfort.

“Ah!”

She raised her fist, hitting his shoulder, and bent her knee, thrashing to break free, but he wouldn’t release her. Suddenly, saliva slid down her throat, causing her to cough. Only then did the man, who had been devouring her with insatiable hunger, pull away and fix his gaze on her.

Swan, half collapsed on the bed, dragged herself backwards and tried to escape. Atlion watched her for a moment in silence before slowly approaching her. Swan hunched her shoulders, her face filled with fear.

“Why are you wearing that look?”

It was exactly the question she wanted to ask. She couldn’t understand what was happening. It was beyond her understanding. All she could do was gasp for breath.

“I asked you why you look like that.”

She couldn’t decipher what he was thinking. His words echoed in her mind, over and over again.

‘Why do you look like this? Why do you look like this? She wanted to ask him sincerely. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you bringing me here?’

“Swan.”

“Why… why are you doing this?” 

“Swan.”

“I want to go home. Please take me to Una.”

Swan tried desperately to hold back her sobs. When she finally managed to part her lips, her voice shook like a sick dog. This time Atlion didn’t let out his usual hollow laugh. He just stared at her. Swan tried to see something – anything – beyond the darkness that lingered in his blue eyes, something other than lust.

“Your Majesty.”

“Your home is here. Your husband is me and your child is mine.”

“Your Majesty.”

Her tear-filled eyes shook violently with heat. His hands clasped her shoulders and he slowly knelt before her. Swan swallowed dryly, fear gripping her as she braced herself for what he might do.

“Isn’t that so?”

“……”

“Am I wrong?”

“I….”

“The man you chose was me.”

“…….”

“Didn’t you ask me to marry you? Didn’t you ask me to be your husband?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I am sorry, I really am. It was my fault, Your Majesty. I’ve regretted it ever since…”

“Swan!”

The spacious bedroom echoed with his shout. Swan’s eyes were wide open as she stared at him. Her tightly sealed lips quivered at the corners. A sudden thought crossed her mind.

“Is this… is this because I left without telling Your Majesty? Is that why you’re doing this?”

His face, twisted with anger, hardened to stone. Only then did it occur to Swan that he might actually be angry. After all, he was Una’s father. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the thought that he might be genuinely angry crossed her mind.

She had assumed that as a royal, not a commoner, he would dislike the child she had borne. When Una was born, his reaction had been lukewarm, and even in the cottage he had remained distant, as if the child were someone else’s. This led her to believe that he found Una bothersome and disgusting.

In truth, Una seemed to sense his feelings as well. Whenever he tried to hold her, she would make a face of discomfort and burst into tears. It was impossible for them to get along. Maybe he just didn’t like children to begin with. Whatever it was, Swan didn’t want Una to have to live under such treatment. To them, no matter what was said, Una would always be nothing more than an illegitimate child.

What if they took her away and Swan never saw her again? To Swan, Una was everything. She was the first family Swan had since her mother died.

Swan blinked. But she didn’t hate Atlion. Una was a child they had made together, at a time when he remembered nothing. She understood his indifference. She had decided to accept that he didn’t love the child. So she’d assumed he wouldn’t care if she left with Una.

But on second thought, Atlion was still the child’s father. At the very least, she should have informed him before taking Una away. Hesitantly, Swan opened her mouth to speak.

“I am sorry for taking Una without permission. I didn’t mean to cause Your Majesty any more trouble. I’ve caused too much trouble already… I thought you didn’t like Una. I thought it would be better to bring her up well first and then let you get to know her.”

“So you ran away?”

“Yes. You may not believe me, but… although I feel sorry for Your Majesty, I also… I also…”

The hands gripping her shoulders began to tighten. Swan swallowed her groan, trying to think of a way to ask for forgiveness. She didn’t know what she could say to make him let her go. Suddenly, her skirt was pulled up.

“Ack! Ah!”

Startled, Swan fell forward onto the bed, struggling as a hand crept towards her most private area. She flailed her legs in resistance, but the invading hand only moved more boldly, brushing along her l*bia before fumbling towards her opening.

“Ah! Hic… ah…!”

A terrified Swan raised her hands and grabbed the wrist of the man who had lifted her skirt. Atlion, his hand now in her panties, looked down at her intently. Swan stared back, frozen.

His features were sharp – the chiseled lines of his face, the piercing blue eyes that burned like fire. There was a sombre gravity and detachment to his mature expression, his contours imbued with a darker, more commanding aura. Yet… the chill when their eyes met. The madness that lurked beneath his seemingly calm demeanour, a force that no tenderness could hide, was undeniable. This was not the lazy desire she once knew; it was something else entirely.

Everything about him was unfamiliar, vividly so. He parted her l*bia, searching for an opening, his lips curling slightly at the corners. As his fingers circled the smooth entrance, Swan let out a scream.

“Ah! No, stop! Please, ahh!”

His previously cold gaze deepened, growing heavier with intensity. Trembling, Swan stared at him as his fingers pressed inside, increasing in number. It was clear he had no intention of stopping. She couldn’t understand – she really didn’t know why he was doing this.

“Why… why are you doing this, Your Majesty? I…”

“And I, Swan! Tell me, why are you rejecting me?”

“And I, swan! I don’t understand why you reject me. Isn’t it natural for your husband to claim you? Do you need to cry when your husband lifts your skirt?”

Swan, her face flushed, froze as she stared at his lips.

‘Husband.’

He had called himself her husband.

‘Your husband.’

She blinked, tears streaming freely from the corners of her eyes.

“I don’t love you.”

Yes, she had heard those words before.

He had said them out loud, in front of the woman who was almost his fiancée. Swan had believed them to be his true feelings – an honest heart with no reason or need to hide. She had never dared to ask, but even without words she had felt the answer.

This couldn’t be right. It didn’t make sense. Swan shook her head.

“We are married.”

“Ah… haah…”

The paused fingers dug deeper, brushing against her inner walls again. Shamefully, her legs parted further, her opening clenching and pulling at his fingers. A tingling sensation coursed through her cl*t. Swan stared helplessly at her br*ast, which rose and fell heavily. His other hand had undone the loose fabric covering her br*asts, exposing them.

The plain, modest undergarments she wore were exposed under his hand. A wave of humiliation washed over her, causing her to bite her lip. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling.

She’d felt the same when she’d realised he wasn’t just any knight, but the son of an emperor. When she’d realised she’d dared to wish for such a man as her husband. It had made her feel unbearably lonely. And now the same feeling came back – a deep inadequacy, as if she were a pitiful woman standing before a man raised in noble splendour. It wasn’t far from the truth.

Yes, Swan was a pitiful woman, that much was true. But still… still…

‘It wasn’t like that with Theo…’

Swan turned her head slightly, her thoughts drifting to Theo. Perhaps it was the shift in her gaze that displeased him, or perhaps Atlion sensed her attention wandering elsewhere. His hand, which had been carefully undoing the fabric covering her br*ast, suddenly gripped it roughly.

“Where are your eyes?”

His harsh whisper matched the stern expression on his face. The demanding tone of his question snapped Swan back to reality and she began to struggle against him again, trying to push him away. His eyes wild with rage, he tore open the neckline of her dress, exposing her full br*ast.

“Your Majesty!”