Chapter 1 – Meeting

Everyone must have dreams about love. Some may wish for a comfortable and cozy relationship like that of friends, while others may yearn for a fiery and passionate connection.  

If Richel had to choose, it would be the latter. A love like fire. How wonderful that would be.  

However, Richel was aware of reality. Although her family was a poor barony, a noble was still a noble. Arranged marriages were a natural order of things. She wasn’t particularly greedy for wealth; all she wished for was a decent person.  

One day, her parents brought a stranger from the capital.  

“This is the man who will become your husband.”  

“What…?”  

“The Emperor himself arranged this match.”  

Richel stared at the unfamiliar man with a bewildered expression.  

“My name is Callisto.”  

He had jet-black hair like the night sky and piercing blue eyes. His sturdy yet elegant physique was paired with a face so flawless it seemed as though it had been dipped in honey. His slightly disheveled appearance suited him more than a neat outfit, evoking an image of someone who might casually sport traces of alcohol and lipstick while smiling decadently.  

Standing before such a beautiful man, Richel instinctively shrank back. His expression, as he looked at her, was frighteningly stern.  

A beautiful but intimidating man. That was Richel’s first impression of her husband, Callisto.  

He was a man she couldn’t understand. From the very beginning, his behavior was peculiar. He would come to visit Richel regularly, whether it was day or night, riding on horseback just to see her. And that was all—he would simply look at her. Quietly. With an expression that was terrifyingly serious.  

When they went on nominal dates before the wedding, Richel felt as if she were walking with a wooden doll. His expressions and gestures were so stiff that Richel found herself becoming equally awkward.  

He must hate me….  

Richel’s father was a baron. Not a duke, not a marquis—just one of the many lesser nobles. In contrast, Callisto was wealthy. The jewels and accessories he brought as gifts during his visits were so extravagant that even Richel, who lacked an eye for such things, could tell they were incredibly valuable.  

For someone like him to be forced into marriage with a lowly noblewoman….  

Naturally, Richel braced herself. She imagined sharing silent meals, drinking tea, and taking walks with the stern-faced man, wondering when he would finally suggest ending their meetings. Even as the wedding preparations progressed, that thought lingered in her mind.  

Until the day of the wedding, when Callisto kissed her as part of their vows.  

It was on their wedding night that Richel realized Callisto, whom she had feared, was unexpectedly kind.  

Sitting in the bridal chamber, Richel was tense. She still couldn’t believe that the man she barely knew had become her husband, and now he was about to take her first time.  

Perhaps sensing her unease, Callisto remained still. The two of them shared the room in silence for a long time.  

It wasn’t until Richel’s heart felt like it might burst that he finally moved. Approaching her with his usual stern expression, Callisto gently touched her face and lowered his head.  

Contrary to his intimidating demeanor, his lips were unexpectedly soft. The hands holding her face were incredibly tender. His warm tongue brushed against her parted lips as if seeking permission, moving slowly and carefully. Blushing, Richel opened her mouth.  

A firm hand wrapped around her back as his tongue entered, accompanied by a deep sigh. Their bodies leaned against each other. Trapping her in his arms, he asked,  

“May I… call your name?”  

When Richel nodded, Callisto’s eyes flickered with emotion.  

“Richel.”  

“…….”  

“Richel….”  

His broad back lowered as their tongues intertwined and bare skin was revealed.  

Callisto was considerate as he embraced her. Though Richel whimpered and trembled at the size of him, and though he occasionally muttered curses she didn’t understand while thrusting deeply, he remained gentle. He kissed her tear-streaked face repeatedly. Although he was clearly overwhelmed with passion—breaking the bed’s headboard in the process—he still treated her with care.  

Maybe he’s not such a bad person after all. Perhaps he’s just a bit shy.  

It would be nice if he smiled a little more….  

***

As their married life continued, Richel grew increasingly despondent.  

In the month they had lived together, she could count on one hand the number of times she had seen her husband’s face. Whatever work he was involved in kept him so busy that he frequently left home, sometimes for as long as two weeks. Even when he returned, he would immediately wash up and shut himself in his study to work.  

Whenever Richel mustered the courage to approach him first, he would respond, but it was rare for him to initiate conversation.  

“Can’t you sleep?”  

These rare moments usually occurred when Richel lingered near his study door. Somehow aware of her presence, Callisto would open the door, drape a robe over her shoulders, and escort her to bed.  

“Please rest.”  

After kissing her forehead and tucking the blanket up to her neck, he would return to his study to work through the night.  

She didn’t expect much. It was an arranged marriage, after all—passionate love was out of the question. She would have been content with a relationship that was at least comfortable, like that of friends.  

But Callisto drew a clear line. The fact that she still didn’t know what he did for a living was proof of that. She didn’t know his title, his occupation, or why he was so busy. Though he brought back extravagant gifts after his trips, he never explained anything. She was curious but didn’t dare ask, fearing his disapproval.  

Perhaps he was forced into this marriage by the Emperor or some other unavoidable circumstance.  

That might be it.  

The thought made Richel’s heart ache.  

***

Richel sighed as she touched her teacup.  

A month and a half had passed since her marriage, but nothing had changed. Feeling as though she might fall into depression, she decided to attend a small tea party hosted by a certain Madame.  

Although she only vaguely recognized the other attendees, it didn’t matter. After all, the most awkward person in her life right now was her husband.  

Sipping her tea quietly as she gazed at the garden, Richel felt a bit of relief in the refreshing light of nature.  

“Would you like to visit a special place?”  

When one of the ladies suggested it, Richel followed without much thought.  

She never imagined it would lead to trouble.