“Frederic?”

Margie jumped up from the rocking chair and ran out through the door.

“How are you here so fast! Did you actually trade your legs for wings?”

She threw herself against his chest.

“Ah. The letter arrived later than I expected.”

Frederic murmured, catching sight of the letter in her hand, then buried his nose deep into her neck.

“Hah. I’ve been wanting to breathe you in.”

He moved along her skin, drawing in her scent from every angle, then inhaled deeply and let the breath out in a long, satisfied exhale.

“But…… I thought I made a request. That you wouldn’t wash.”

Frederic stopped the kiss he had been pressing against her and creased his brow slightly.

“I love the smell of your skin. Especially without soap, just the way you are when you’ve been sweating.”

The familiar lemon-scented oil had caught his attention and irritated him.

“You have no idea how much that particular scent of yours excites me……”

“Just a moment……!”

“Coming at me like this after a warning like that.”

“Hnn!”

“I’ll just have to make you sweat all over again……”

“W, wait, Frederic!”

Just as Frederic moved to lift her into his arms, Margie pulled back and pushed hard against his chest.

“Margie?”

His body was burning, wound so tight he felt he might snap if he didn’t have her immediately. He assumed Margie was in a similar state of emergency, but……

“Not today. Absolutely not.”

She was pushing him away with eyes that were calm to the point of being cold.

“Not today. Absolutely……?”

For a moment he thought he had misheard.

“That’s right. Absolutely not.”

Margie looked straight up at him, and her voice was steadier than he had ever heard it.

“……Why?”

Don’t you love me anymore?

Frederic couldn’t bring himself to say it. He bit down on his lower lip. Several strands of golden hair that had been neatly in place moments ago drifted across his forehead.

“Because, Frederic.”

Ah. Using your face against me is cheating, darling……

Margie caught herself staring at those tear-edged green eyes and swallowed the words back down.

“Dr. O’Brien said I need to be careful at this stage. He told me couples should abstain in the early period.”

She leaned close to his ear and whispered as quietly as she could, as though afraid someone might overhear.

“……Early period of what?”

Frederic’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at her.

“Could it be…… what I think it is?”

“Yes, Frederic. Exactly what you think.”

“You can’t mean it.”

His eyes, narrowed a moment ago, were growing wider.

“I’m pregnant, Frederic.”

“……!”

Frederic reached toward her stomach, then snatched his hand back. His fingertips were trembling, and his vision swam.

“You can touch it. You won’t feel anything yet.”

Margie took his right hand and guided it carefully onto her belly. Just as she said, it was flat as always, with no trace of anything new.

“About six weeks, they said.”

Margie whispered again.

Six weeks. He couldn’t quite grasp what that meant.

The naval training before discharge had been four weeks. Before that, the two of us spent two weeks together at the villa in the duchy…… Then our baby……

“Until the doctor tells us we’ve reached a safe point, unfortunately.”

Margie paused, then smiled and wrapped both arms around Frederic’s broad waist.

“We’ll have to hold hands and sleep.”

In that moment, their eyes met directly.

She had often compared her husband Frederic Graham’s appearance to literature.

He’s like an ancient novel with extraordinarily beautiful writing, a difficult theme, and twist upon twist. Dazzling to anyone who looks, but nearly impossible to interpret. A myth of a man.

But right now……

“……Holding hands and sleeping with my wife. That is the most disappointing thing I have ever heard in my life.”

Frederic slid his fingers deep into her hair, pressed his lips to her forehead, and murmured quietly.

He’s a poem. Full of metaphor and symbol.

That was how Margie remembered this moment, looking up at her husband.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Two years later.

A special advertising page in the quarterly magazine 〈This Autumn, Oslande〉.

[Happy First Birthday to the Young Duke of Graham!]

And the special article commemorating the magazine’s founding anniversary.

[The coexistence of progress and tradition. The one who brought down the walls of the class system was not a rising bourgeois, but a nobleman of the established royal aristocracy.

Special interview subject for the 100th anniversary edition: Frederic Graham, young master of the Graham ducal family and representative of new materials steel company ‘ForgePrime Alloy Works’]

“Oh? Is that magazine out of stock?”

“If you mean This Autumn, Oslande, it sold out long ago.”

[……Duke Graham, whose scientific aptitude far exceeded that of most noblemen from an early age, began taking an interest in the design and function of ship decks while working directly with naval vessels during his military service……]

“Good grief! Is there any bookshop that still has copies?”

“I doubt it. You’d be hard pressed to find one anywhere right now. Unless you’re willing to pay a considerable premium to a scalper.”

[……Applying alloy steel previously used only in ship hulls to automobile engines and crankshafts, he improved vehicle wear resistance and heat tolerance, which, alongside the full-scale mass production of gasoline-powered vehicles, allowed ‘ForgePrime Alloy Works’ to emerge as the kingdom’s leading steel company……]

The bookshop owner had been watching the customer leave empty-handed. Only after the man disappeared completely from view did he carefully open the last remaining copy of 〈This Autumn, Oslande〉.

[Q: You and Sir Ian Flynn now stand side by side as the first and second wealthiest people in Oslande. What are your thoughts?

A: I think I need to work harder.

Q: Did your father-in-law provide any support in growing ‘ForgePrime Alloy Works,’ which holds the patent on the new materials?

A: Of course he did. Without Sir Flynn’s investment in the early days of the business, developing the new materials would have been very difficult.

Q: ‘Would have been difficult’ suggests a confidence that you would have managed it eventually even without Sir Flynn’s bold investment. Is that correct?

A: I won’t deny it.

Q: Oh…… moments like this do reveal the aristocrat in you.

A: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Q: There’s been a rumor circulating that the reason Your Grace became so focused on money is your wife, Duchess Graham. Is there any truth to that?

A: The premise is wrong. It wasn’t an obsession with money. It was an understanding of how important money is in a capitalist market. And none of it is ‘because of’ my wife. It is ‘thanks to’ my wife. If this subtly aggressive line of questioning continues, I’d say it runs quite contrary to what I understood the purpose of this interview to be, and I see no reason to continue extending courtesy. Let’s call the whole thing off.

(He did in fact rise firmly from the table, and the interview only continued after the journalists present apologized for their discourtesy.)

Q: Could you explain what you mean by ‘thanks to your wife’ in a little more detail?

A: My wife is a truly lovely person. I want to give her everything she could ever want. But as everyone knows, I was penniless in the early days of our marriage, a man with nothing but appearances to his name. The pride of a poor man. Could there be a worse husband? That is why I had no choice but to build financial security, for her sake.

Q: Forgive me, but am I understanding correctly that you decided to earn money so that Duchess Graham could shop freely?

A: You’ve understood perfectly.

Q: Oh?

A: Her eye for quality is extraordinary. She selects only the finest things. I had no desire to make her a person who compromises with reality for the sake of a few coins. That is why I earn money.

Q: Ah, I see…… (A brief collective sigh from the press team.)

A: She is worth every bit of it. If you were to meet her yourself, you would understand immediately. The loveliest living creature in existence, the only woman who made me want to be alive, and at the same time……

(Throughout the interview the duke responded in brief, clipped answers, but when it came to his wife, Duchess Graham, he went on at extraordinary length. Our reporter had to interrupt several times before the praise finally paused, though we found ourselves entirely persuaded by his eloquence. And when Duchess Graham herself appeared at the studio near the end of the interview, her loveliness was something to behold! She radiated a genuinely vibrant beauty, and possessed every charm sufficient to have captured the heart of Duke Frederic Graham……)

The full account of Duke Graham’s devoted husband side that could not fit in this issue, along with further details on the patent business of ‘ForgePrime Alloy Works,’ will continue in next issue’s special feature. Look forward to the next 〈This Autumn, Oslande〉!]

“Come on. They call it a special interview and it just ends here?”

[Appendix: Exclusive scoop on the spinoff plans for the shocking sensation 〈The Grand Ducal Household’s Lewd Wedding Night〉! The long-awaited story of Agnus and Bianca’s next generation, plus a written interview with author ‘Suzanne Automne,’ available immediately in the appendix.]

〈Whatever My Wife Asks of Me fin.〉