Ilenia had changed.

Delphius was certain of it; his wife was no longer the same person.

But if anyone had asked him how, he wouldn’t have known how to answer. The words would catch in his throat.

She looked the same as always. And yet she didn’t. This strange feeling lingered whenever he looked at her now.

His gaze lingered on Ilenia. It wasn’t because she had started tying up her golden hair, which she used to wear loose, nor because her smile had become slightly more open. It wasn’t anything so obvious.

It was something else — something subtle, something he couldn’t quite name. But he was certain that things had changed.

Perhaps it was because he had replaced all her attendants.

Ultimately, he had not dismissed Meg entirely.

Instead, he demoted her from head maid to ordinary attendant. Compared to being dismissed without even a letter of recommendation, this was an act of mercy — one for which she should be grateful.

Nevertheless, the urge to dismiss her completely still lingered within him. Yet he had held back — for Ilenia’s sake.

Rather than letting Meg be cast out, Ilenia had risked her own life in her place.

“I won’t waste my time on pointless lessons in etiquette. I won’t go to the Hildebalt estate or to nameless gatherings anymore. So please, just don’t dismiss Madam Meg.”

Delphius thought it was a fair deal — hardly an unreasonable condition. Consequently, Meg was stripped of her title as head maid, though she was allowed to stay in the Lukehardt household.

However, Delphius was not a man to do things by halves.

With cold precision, he made sure that Meg and Ilenia would never cross paths again. Meg was not merely transferred to a different role as a chambermaid; she was demoted further to the position of laundress, responsible for fetching and carrying water. The well lay at the far northern edge of the estate, while Ilenia’s quarters were in the southern wing. The distance was deliberate.

Delphius appointed a new head maid in her place and surrounded Ilenia with several attendants, ensuring she would not feel any sense of loss.

And yet… could that alone explain the change in her?

It didn’t feel like enough.

Even that morning, Ilenia had been seen smiling easily among the new maids. Perhaps having younger attendants around was the right choice — she laughed more freely now than she ever had when Meg stood at her side.

As she strolled through the gardens, the chatter of the maids accompanying her brightened her mood. Watching her now, it was clear that her change hadn’t come from longing for Meg.

Without realizing it, Delphius slowly unclenched the fist he had held tightly at his side.

Nor did Ilenia’s demeanor reveal anything about what had happened in his office that day. She carried herself as though nothing had happened, as though he had never raised his voice at her.

It had been unlike him — rash and driven by emotion. He knew he had gone too far and acted in a way unworthy of himself. He had even considered apologizing.

But how could he when Ilenia was acting as though nothing had happened?

That was the first reason.

Whenever she looked at him, her gaze was so consistently gentle that he — a man who had never cared for beauty — found himself struck by it.

It left him at a loss for words.

Not even the simplest admission — ‘I was too harsh’ — ever left his lips. Weeks had already passed. By now, the memory must have faded and softened, perhaps even disappeared entirely from her mind.

It was only natural that his urge to speak of it began to fade as well.

And yet, the most decisive shift was this: Almost without realizing it, he reached out and took hold of Ilenia’s head. The moment his hand came to rest there, the small, repetitive motion she had been making stopped abruptly.

“…Why did you stop, Delphius?”

Her head rested between his parted thighs. At the same time, the object she had been holding in her mouth slipped free and twitched faintly in her hand.

Looking back on their wedding night, it was almost impossible to believe that she was the same woman. The young, composed woman who had once accused him of indecency for touching her had disappeared. What remained was someone shaped entirely by his influence.

Shaped by his preferences alone. A side of Ilenia that no one else would ever see.

His only complaint was that her fragile body often succumbed to sleep before he was finished. But even that had begun to change.

The greatest difference — the one that convinced him she had truly changed — was that all her hesitation towards intimacy had vanished.

In fact, she seemed to welcome it.

Just like now.

Delphius reached out and brushed his hand lightly against the cheek he had just kissed. It almost felt as though his warmth still lingered there.

“No reason. I was only wondering what made you bold enough to show yourself like this.”

“My curiosity has always been strong—you knew that well enough already, didn’t you?”

“You did show a particular… persistence.”

He replied with a low chuckle, stroking her hair.

Whatever had caused this change, he viewed it positively. Accepting it with a faint sense of satisfaction, he idly played with the soft strands of hair at the nape of her neck, his hand drifting downwards.

When his fingers brushed the delicate spot where her hair met her skin, Ilenia lowered her head once more. The warmth of her breath made him flinch, and he tightened his grip on her hair slightly.

She no longer needed guidance. She had learned, in her own way, how to respond to him. Although his size still limited what she could do, she compensated with her hands, moving carefully and steadily.

The rhythm was simple — nothing more than a gentle rise and fall — but compared to the timid way she had once dared only to touch him, the difference was undeniable.

The way she focused so intently — almost innocently — made the sight unexpectedly endearing. Her small frame bent over him, her expression hidden, yet she was wholly absorbed in what she was doing.

Delphius found himself watching her, unable to look away.

A darker impulse stirred within him — the urge to push further and test her limits — but he held it back, watching as she continued, unaware of the thoughts running through his mind.

His hand tightened at the back of her neck, guiding her ever so slightly, while she remained devoted to the task before her.

“Hhh…”

Saliva ran down his p*nis from her parted lips; she could not swallow it fast enough. Delphius clenched his jaw as her trembling hands stroked him clumsily, moving over him in wet, messy motions.

Her mouth was as tight and hot as her body — sticky, yielding and maddening. Even the slightest touch of her soft tongue was enough to bring on a fast and hard release.

“D*mn…”

A sharp shudder tore through him, rising to the crown of his head and spreading down his body. The way she accepted everything he gave her, without any resistance, was enough to unsettle him.

Was there something she wanted?

She had always become more yielding when she wanted something in return. Perhaps this was no different.

Whatever it was, he felt he would grant it without hesitation. Anything she asked for.

His hand moved to grip the soft curve of her br*ast, his fingers tightening suddenly and intensely. At the unexpected touch, her body tensed and his reaction made him curse under his breath as the sensation surged too quickly and strongly.

D*mn it!

The rush came on so abruptly that he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. She was so slight and delicate. No wonder it felt as though he might lose control far sooner than intended.

“Ilenia. That’s enough.”

“…”

“Ilenia.”

Instead of obeying, she pushed him deeper still. A guttural curse broke from him, and he shoved roughly at her shoulder.

The moment her teeth grazed his tip, his mind went white. At last, all he had held back poured out of him.

“Ah…”

His release spattered across her face and chest, streaking her in a mess of thick, pearly fl*id. Drops slid down the bridge of her nose, dripped from her chin.

“Are you all right?”

He had never meant to finish on her face. Panic sharpened his voice as he reached for her.

“It didn’t get in my eyes.”

She murmured, carefully blinking. Yet even her lashes bore small pearly beads of him.

Another silent curse left his throat as he wiped her face with his hand, guilt and desire tangled in one.

Seeing her face covered in his release made him stir hard again, yet tending to her took priority over indulging the ache already swelling below.

“I’ll wipe you clean.”

He turned to reach for a cloth, but stopped when her hand closed firmly around his wrist.

“…No. Don’t go.”

And then—

As she slowly lifted her fingers, slick with his seed, to her lips, Delphius felt the last thread of his restraint snap apart.