Sleeping so soundly in his arms, yet earlier she’d been talking about divorce—he could hardly believe it.

Would she keep saying that from now on?

That d*mn divorce talk.

Every time she brought up that cursed word, he wanted to seal those small lips shut. He wanted to steal away all her breath so she couldn’t say anything.

…Just like now.

Astaire quietly looked down at the sleeping Daphne. Right now, he felt an intense urge to kiss her.

An impulse even he couldn’t understand.

Not that there was anything to understand.

Daphne was more than pretty enough and attractive as a woman.

And men naturally desire beautiful women.

Yes, a man’s desire for a woman.

That was probably all it was.

Defining the wildly beating heart he felt when looking at Daphne this way made him feel lighter.

Come to think of it, what couldn’t he do?

This woman was already his.

So Astaire didn’t hold back the feelings rising within him for her. He grabbed her face and kissed her lips.

“…Mmph!”

The moment soft flesh pressed against him, Daphne’s eyes flew open.

Her arms and legs still felt heavy, like they were submerged in water.

But suddenly something covering her pulled her entire body up to the surface.

Before she could properly grasp the situation, Astaire grabbed her face and back, half-lifting her up. The tongue’s insertion became slightly deeper and hotter.

“Right now, what are you doing?”

Daphne barely pulled her lips away and whispered.

Astaire still looked at his wife with eyes blazing like the sunset.

The moment she faced her own reflection trapped in his eyes, Daphne’s breath caught.

She didn’t know why, but it felt ominous.

She had a strong premonition that she needed to escape from inside his eyes quickly.

But the space they were in now was an enclosed carriage.

A space with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Daphne ultimately had to helplessly accept his kisses pouring down like a waterfall.

Thud!

The more the carriage jolted, the more firmly Astaire held Daphne. Like he was trying to prevent her from escaping his embrace.

Ironically, Daphne felt stability in Astaire’s embrace amid the carriage’s shaking.

Enough to think it would be okay to keep leaning on him like this.

This won’t do.

Daphne bit her lip and steeled her resolve. She pushed against Astaire’s chest with all her strength.

Ironically, Astaire immediately pulled away with just one push.

Like he was saying with his body—if you dislike me that much, I won’t do it.

That attitude actually made Daphne feel unpleasant. That patronizing attitude, like “I’ll bestow this upon you since you want it,” was extremely irritating.

She’d once found that arrogance attractive, but not anymore.

That leisurely attitude, like he had the whole world beneath his feet, now felt uncomfortable. It felt like a tight snare gripping her ankles.

She wanted to leave this man now.

“Now I can’t even let my wife out.”

Astaire smiled coldly. The sight was like the smile of an ice sculpture perfectly crafted by a god.

Yes. A sculpture that sent chills down your spine just looking at it.

It was hard to believe he’d been kissing her hotter than fire just moments ago.

“I need to check if another man touched my wife.”

What he’d said at the ballroom was no empty threat.

The Duke Daphne knew wasn’t someone who spoke carelessly.

Screech, thud.

The carriage that had been running continuously finally stopped at the ducal estate.

“Wait…!”

Daphne spoke urgently, watching Astaire grab her wrist and hurry his steps.

Regardless, Astaire was leading her up the stairs with an utterly calm and cold expression.

His steps were quick, but he didn’t give the impression of being rushed at all.

But Daphne knew.

That if you cracked open that hard shell, there was a burning obsession hot enough to melt everything.

Daphne was afraid to look inside that man.

“Wh-where are we going…!”

“Can’t you tell by looking?”

Of course she knew.

That’s why she was asking. The place Astaire was leading her to now was the bedroom.

Daphne struggled desperately to break free. But the more she did, the stronger the grip on her wrist became.

She was now half-resigned as she was dragged along by him. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Open your eyes.”

When she opened them again, seemingly under a spell at his words, Daphne realized she’d arrived at the place she’d expected.

The marital bedroom.

It was called a marital bedroom, but in reality, it wasn’t a space where the two slept side by side.

That space only fulfilled its purpose on “that day” for the conditions specified in the contract.

Astaire had been really strange lately.

Especially since she’d declared divorce.

Previously, he hadn’t cared what she did, but now his gaze followed her every action.

But far from being pleased, the attention she’d never received before only suffocated her.

This man and she had never properly faced each other. They’d always been looking in opposite directions.

“Why, why are you doing this, Your Grace!”

“You’re talking like I’m about to do something terrible. Aren’t you?”

“Because it seems like you will…!”

“D*mn it.”

Astaire muttered a low curse, seemingly finding Daphne frustrating.

“Why can’t I do terrible things to you?”

The moment the soft mattress touched her back, she stood on tiptoe. Chills ran from her head to her toes down her spine.

Daphne grabbed the Duke’s arm desperately.

“Isn’t this what we came together for?”

Then the Duke brought his face close to hers. He whispered, exhaling hot breath.

“We’re married.”

Strangely, the moment she heard his whisper, the strength left her hand gripping the Duke’s arm.

She had so much to say…

But the words wouldn’t come out. Like something was blocking her throat, no sound came out even when she opened her mouth.

“Mmph…!”

Did he misunderstand her involuntarily parted lips?

The Duke kissed her hotly.

The moment their soft lips touched, a tongue with rough texture entered and wrapped around her flesh. The man’s tongue warmly traced over all her teeth and flesh.

The kiss didn’t last long.

“How is it? Do you hate it?”

When she trembled in his embrace, Astaire immediately pulled his lips away and whispered.

If she disliked it, he’d stop right away.

That fact tormented Daphne even more.

“I hate—”

“Then did you like it when you did it with another man?”

His absurd accusation took her breath away again.

Not knowing how to respond, she stayed still, and his hand quietly circled around her clothing.

“I guess I need to check. Whether someone undid this.”

“N-no. Your Grace!”

“That d*mn ‘Your Grace’!”

Astaire spoke through gritted teeth, seemingly barely containing his rising anger. His hand boldly touched the lace hem.

The moment the delicate string easily came undone in his hand, the cool air in the room brushed her skin.

Daphne’s head spun in a way hard to describe. She squeezed her eyes shut and shouted.

“Nothing really happened!”

Her eyes grew hot. She felt something hot flow down her cheek. She didn’t need to touch it to know what it was.

It soon entered her mouth, and she tasted saltiness on her tongue. Daphne didn’t bother holding back her flowing tears.

This man makes me miserable.

Even the love she’d tried to sort out—he looked down at it with his characteristic arrogant, lofty expression and ruthlessly crushed it with his shining boot.

Now she hated this man.

She disliked this man.

She loathed him.

“…I hate you.”

Daphne spat out the words through gritted teeth, just like Astaire had done. Invisible bloodstains seemed to drip from the end of her words.

She was that desperate.

Now she would desperately hate this man.

She looked up at the man without averting her gaze. This time it was the woman’s turn to trap the man.

Astaire’s face reflected in her blue eyes that had lost their light. In that moment, the man wore a dazed expression without realizing it.

Daphne didn’t miss that moment when strength left his body. She pushed his arm away with all her might and bolted up from the bed.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t come near me!”

Surely her face was hideously covered in tears right now. But Daphne had no thought of wiping her face.

She hastily straightened her clothes, shouted at Astaire, and quickly left the bedroom.

She didn’t remember what she was thinking as she climbed the stairs.

She never once looked back to see if he was following her.

Bang!

Only after hearing the door close did Daphne finally collapse behind it.

All the strength drained from her body at once. It was hard to even stand properly on her two legs.

She was tired now.

Even of running away.

She didn’t try to wipe the tears that kept flowing even then.

* * *

Even after Daphne left, Astaire couldn’t leave the marital bedroom for a while.

Marital bedroom.

Was this place really a bedroom for a married couple?

He looked around the desolate space that couldn’t fulfill its original purpose and sighed emptily.

He raised his hand and thoroughly mussed his neatly arranged blond hair. But it didn’t relieve his frustration.

To be clear, he hadn’t intended to force Daphne to do something she didn’t want.

The word “force” didn’t even apply between them in the first place.

According to the contract, “Party B” was to cooperate in “Party A’s” efforts to produce an heir.

Astaire didn’t want to admit it until the end.

That the moment he saw Daphne and Second Prince Phaios standing close together whispering, he’d completely lost his reason.

That because of it, he kept committing absurd acts.

That ultimately, because of that, he’d inflicted an indelible wound on his wife’s heart.

He was sick of only seeing his wife’s back now.

Daphne was trying to run away from him somehow.

But why?

Astaire clenched his fist tightly.

He turned his steps toward her personal bedroom upstairs.

Creeeeak—

The sound of the hinges moving slowly was eerie.

Daphne was nowhere to be seen, unusually.

Where had she gone to sleep this time?