The moment she heard the familiar voice, Isabel felt a wave of relief wash over her. It was Sarah—the maid who had come with her from the baron’s estate.

“I’ve attended you since you were at your family home, my lady. You’ll feel more at ease with me.”

“Very well. If you need anything, please call for us at once.”

Sarah, Isabel’s personal maid, stepped forward and the other maids at the Grand Ducal Residence stepped back without protest.

The sound of several pairs of footsteps faded into the distance, followed by the soft click of the door closing. It was only once they had left completely that Isabel sensed someone step closer to her.

“I’ll remove it now.”

No sooner had the words left her lips than Sarah moved her hands to her head. Slowly and carefully, she lifted the veil away.

Isabel opened her eyes. Revealed were pale, translucent, ash-grey eyes.

Eyes that saw nothing. Eyes that no longer served their purpose.

Supported by Sarah’s arm, Isabel stepped into the bath. The water, which was filled to the brim, rippled outwards and spilled gently over the edge and onto the floor.

As her body sank into the warmth, the exhaustion she had been holding in all day began to dissipate. She had risen before dawn and endured the entire ceremony without eating properly. Now, wrapped in warmth, her limbs grew heavy with drowsiness.

For a brief moment, Isabel closed her eyes.

It felt so soothing that she could have drifted off to sleep right then and there.

Behind her, Sarah gently loosened her carefully braided hair. Fine, platinum-blonde strands unraveled and floated softly on the surface of the bathwater.

A faint clatter sounded nearby, followed by a thick, heady fragrance that quickly filled the air. The scent was so strong that it stung her nose. Isabel frowned slightly and opened her eyes.

Sarah glanced at her briefly and spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.

“Even if the fragrance is strong, please endure it. The baron ordered that we prepare thoroughly.”

When the baron’s command was mentioned, Isabel gently bit her lower lip.

Baron Logan had made it clear that she had to bear Damian’s child. In fact, he had threatened her, warning that if she caused any trouble on their first night together, he would not overlook it. His obsession with securing an heir for Damian was impossible to ignore.

No one understood his reasons better than Isabel, but this did nothing to ease her hesitation.

She felt a faint, tender affection for Damian. Yet that was a separate matter entirely.

What troubled her now was how she could possibly keep her eyes hidden while sharing a room with him all night.

Was there truly no way to endure their first night together without revealing them?

Unable to find an answer, she unconsciously lifted her fingers to her mouth and began biting her nails — a habit that surfaced whenever she was emotionally troubled.

“You’ll ruin your nails.”

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

At Sarah’s sharp reminder, Isabel hurriedly lowered her hand.

She used to soothe her anxiety by touching her mother’s ring, a cherished heirloom, but after losing it by mistake, she started tormenting her nails instead. She hadn’t even realized she had this habit until Sarah, who used to trim and care for her nails, pointed it out one day.

“Sarah… must we… do it tonight?”

After much hesitation, Isabel spoke carefully, gauging Sarah’s reaction. It didn’t matter that it was the baron’s order — it felt impossible right now. Hiding her face was far more important to Isabel than having a child.

Sarah immediately understood and nearly dropped the towel she had been using to dry her hair.

“What are you saying? Have you forgotten what the Baron told you? You must bear His Grace’s child as soon as possible. If not tonight, who knows when the next opportunity will come?”

“B-But I’m not supposed to show my face.”

Sarah, who had been preparing to lecture her on her duties as a grand duchess, fell silent. After a moment of deep thought, she rose from her seat.

“Then let’s do this.”

Before Isabel could ask what she meant, complete darkness descended.

Although she could no longer see, she could still distinguish light from shadow. She knew at once that Sarah must have extinguished every lamp in the bedroom.

“Sarah?”

Why had she turned out the lights?

Isabel called her name, but there was no answer at first. Had she left? The moment this thought crossed her mind, she felt a hand grip her shoulder.

She flinched violently.

“S-Sarah?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Pressing her palm against her racing heart, Isabel felt the frantic pounding slowly steady.

“Why did you put out the lights…?”

“If the bedroom is dark, he won’t be able to see your face clearly.”

“Ah…”

A soft exhale slipped through her lips. The solution was so simple. While she had been agonizing over it alone, Sarah had resolved the issue instantly.

“But just in case, keep your face covered with your arm as much as possible.”

Sarah took something out of her pocket.

“Here. Open your mouth.”

As instructed, Isabel parted her lips. Something hard touched them. Not knowing what it was, she accepted what Sarah offered her.

A small, round object dropped into her mouth. It seemed to be a sweet.

“It will help you relax.”

The sweet that Sarah had given her was laced with a mild sedative. The Baron had personally provided the sedative to Sarah, fearing that Isabel would become anxious during her first experience.

“I’ll take my leave now. Don’t make any mistakes.”

Even after Sarah had left, Isabel remained alone in the vast bedroom.

In the heavy silence, so complete that not even the faintest breath disturbed it, she waited for Damian. She waited and waited. Yet no matter how much time passed, he did not come.

Perhaps now that they were truly married, a blind wife was no longer so desirable. She could not blame him for that. No matter how steadfast a person’s love might appear, the human heart is never entirely predictable.

Besides, she had made several small mistakes during the ceremony. Maybe he had been displeased.

As she considered the possibility that Damian might not come at all, the tension slowly drained from her body. Her head began to droop. Drowsiness overtook her with startling speed. The effects of the sweets that Sarah had given her could not be ignored.

Although she told herself that she should stay awake in case he was delayed, her body had already sunk diagonally across the bed. Her eyelids fluttered weakly before finally closing, and sleep claimed her completely.

Then—

She felt someone gently stroking her hair.

The deep waters of sleep began to recede, and her consciousness slowly rose to the surface.

“……”

Her long lashes lifted.

‘Who is it?’

As she shifted slightly, the hand that had been stroking her hair withdrew. A voice, as gentle as the touch itself, flowed softly along the curve of her ear.

“Are you awake?”

‘Damian?’

Still disoriented, she blinked blankly before her eyes widened in sudden clarity. She bolted upright.

When did he arrive? How much time had passed?

As she hurried to climb down from the bed, her head began to throb. Her body swayed. Whether from standing all day or from the sweets Sarah had given her, she could not gather strength in her legs.

“Careful.”

Damian’s strong arm wrapped around her slender waist.

“Th-Thank you…”

Her voice was barely audible as she murmured her thanks. She tried to slip out of his embrace, but the arm around her waist remained firm.

Not knowing how to respond, she shifted her gaze helplessly, only to feel his cool, dry lips brush against the nape of her neck.

She froze immediately, goosebumps rising along her skin. Sensing her stiffness, Damian gently stroked her tense back in a soothing motion.

Leaning closer until their bodies nearly touched, he filled her senses with the crisp, cool scent of his cologne, like winter air. Her heart began to pound wildly. Fearing he might hear it, she tried to pull away, but he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Slowly, he guided her back onto the bed.

Bending down, he pressed his lips to her pale skin before kissing her. His hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of her chemise.

Her skin was soft and warm from her recent bath.

In the dimly lit bedroom, faintly illuminated by moonlight filtering through the curtains, he positioned himself between her legs. When he moved his hand lower, her slender thigh rested in his grasp.

His brow tightened slightly.

‘She needs to be fed properly. I’ll have the chef prepare nourishing meals for her.’

With that in mind, Damian lowered his upper body once more.

“Ah!”

He pressed his lips to Isabel’s delicately exposed collarbone and sucked gently, leaving behind a lingering mark—an understated display of possession.

“Mm—”

Isabel’s body trembled. For a moment, she wondered whether the sweet Sarah had given her contained something other than sedatives, because she was responding helplessly to his every touch.

Burying his face in her soft skin, Damian exhaled hotly. They had used the same bath fragrance, yet Isabel carried a sweetness that surpassed his own. An urge surged within him—to bite, to claim, to consume.

Would she taste as tender and sweet as she seemed?

He dragged his tongue slowly across his lower lip, restraining himself. Just as he leaned in to press a kiss along the contour of her eyes—

“W-Wait…!”

The moment his lips brushed her cheek, Isabel’s body stiffened visibly. Her slender arms pushed against him, forcing him back.

Damian froze.

The heat clouding his mind cooled at once.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out Isabel’s faint outline. Had he accidentally touched her injured eye? She was covering her face with her arm.

“Isabel, are you all right?”

Even when he asked her a question, she was desperate to hide her face. When she didn’t reply, he became uneasy.

Reaching towards the bedside table, he picked up a matchbox. He had already forgotten Sarah’s earlier explanation that Isabel had turned off the lights because she didn’t want to reveal the scars on her face.

At the sharp scratch of a match being struck, Isabel realized what he was about to do. She hurriedly tried to stop him.

“D-Don’t—don’t light it!”

“I only need to see if you’re hurt.”

With a soft hiss, the tip of the match flared to life. Pale smoke curled into the darkness, and a faint glow illuminated the space.

Isabel cried out in alarm.

“N-No!”

“Isabel?”

Holding the lit match away from her, Damian looked down at her anxiously. She had turned her head aside, her face hidden behind both arms.

“Please—don’t… don’t turn on the light. Please…”

Her voice trembled, already thick with tears, as she pleaded not to show her face.

After a brief hesitation, Damian extinguished the flame. Darkness swallowed the bed once more. The faint scent of sulfur lingered in the air.

“Isabel, lower your arms.”

Careful not to startle her, he gently reached for her wrists. But she trembled visibly and resisted him.

“She avoids showing her face to others because of the scars.”

It was only then that he remembered Sarah’s words. It had been his mistake. Damian’s brow drew tight.

Calming her down was more important.

He withdrew completely from her and stepped down from the bed. Then he lowered the canopy that had been tied back, letting it fall around the bed to shield her from view.

“I’ve lowered the canopy. I won’t touch you again, so please don’t worry.”

Only when the mattress shifted and she heard the faint rustle beside her did Isabel slowly lower her arms. Still unable to see anything but darkness, she fumbled for the blanket and pulled it over her head.

Beyond the canopy, she heard Damian’s voice.

“Shall I call the physician?”

“It’s—it’s fine. I’m not hurt. I was just… startled. I don’t think I’m… ready yet. I’m s-sorry.”

“There’s no need for you to apologize, Isabel. I should have been more considerate. It was my mistake. I’m sorry. You should rest now.”

Knowing that she would only feel at ease if he left, Damian quietly rose and left the room.

His heart felt heavy and unsettled.