A Midday Tryst (1)
At twenty-one years of age, Seri had yet to marry.
Family circumstances, money troubles, and a host of other complications had conspired to push her past the usual marrying age. Her one real hobby had become slipping out at night with the other maids in the same boat, gathering in secret to gossip about love — how Cornell in the kitchen had arms like carved oak, how Milton the gardener's thighs were no joke (and, astonishingly, a tiny minority even claimed Gordon was their type). In every way that mattered, she was a young woman starved for romance.
And yet, buried under the same grinding daily routine, she would still catch herself sighing — wondering if she, too, might one day find the kind of fantastical love she only ever heard about in stories.
That day was no different from any other quiet afternoon.
The sun still glittered, and thanks to that glare the dust clinging to the windowsill stood out so clearly that she found herself shaking her duster and thinking useless thoughts like, Why does dust pile up every single day?
"...Huh?"
Seri dropped the duster at the sight before her eyes.
Coming down the corridor from far off were two figures anyone would recognize as her employers — the master and mistress of the house, the Evergarden couple.
But the way they looked was so completely unlike their usual selves that it was nothing short of shocking.
The broad shoulders and sharp features were unmistakably Darian's.
Yet he was walking with Freya cradled in his arms as if he were a hero carrying a princess he had just rescued from a demon king, striding home toward the castle.
Darian's face was expressionless. Freya, however, had both hands clamped over her flushed face, steam practically rising from the top of her head as she dangled there in his hold.
When the maids of her age gathered in some dark corner at night, every story imaginable — and several that weren't — came pouring out. Even so, to people of this medieval world, the scene before her was mortifyingly, scandalously intimate.
"Ah— um— g-good day, my lord! My lady!"
Startled by the count couple's absurd and embarrassing appearance, Seri scrambled to collect herself, bent at the waist, and offered a deep bow as Darian approached.
"Ah. Perfect timing."
"Y-yes?"
"I'm about to have a very pleasant time with my wife. So make sure not even an ant sets foot near my room."
"D-darling—!"
"...Yes. Understood, my lord."
"Good. Thanks for the hard work~"
As if the whole thing were a stroke of luck, Darian delivered his order that no one was to approach his chambers, then strode straight past Seri without another glance.
".........What the hell."
Once the sound of his footsteps had faded and she finally straightened up, Seri found a rough curse slipping out before she could stop it.
Tonight.
The topic for their regular secret gathering had just been decided.
Thud— thud—
"D-darling…!"
Thud— thud—
"P-put me down…! I can walk on my own!"
Freya, dangling in Darian's arms, kicked her limp legs and pleaded desperately.
The moment he had caught her asking Felix for contraceptive pills, Darian had scooped her up like a bride being carried off and had been walking in silence ever since, holding her close.
And not just any hold — a full princess carry, striding openly toward the bedroom. Every time she caught a servant's face flushing red, or two of them whispering, or someone offering a considerate smile and discreetly looking away, Freya's face burned so hot she felt it might burst.
"P-people can see us…!"
"I'm carrying my own wife. Who here is going to say a word to me about it?"
"B-but…! I-it's embarrassing…!"
"Is that so? If this is enough to embarrass you, what are you going to do later?"
"Th-that's…! At least when it's just the two of us…"
Freya begged him earnestly out of sheer mortification, but Darian only grinned and refused to slow his pace.
If anything, he seemed to be walking a little more deliberately — clearly savoring her flustered state.
"My husband is a lot more mischievous than he looks, isn't he? Keeping something like this a secret, too. Still, are you hurt? Married couples shouldn't hide things from each other. Right?"
"But… I-I wasn't even going to use them for sure…! I just got them just in case…"
"Really? You weren't even going to use them for sure? Hmm… that hurts in its own way."
"No… that's not…"
"I'm kidding."
Click—
"…*gulp*."
Still cradled in his arms and enduring his sly interrogation, Freya swallowed hard as they arrived at the door to his chambers.
Darian, who hated clutter, kept his room spare: a large bed, a table and chair set out for form's sake, and an assortment of exercise equipment. That was all.
Click—
Still held against him, she was carried inside. Behind them the wide-open door swung shut, and the lock slid home with a solid sound.
"Now it's just the two of us."
".........."
"Stay here a moment."
He set Freya down on the bed, crossed to the window, and drew the curtains. In an instant the room sank into dim shadow.
Hiss—
"How's this? Pretty atmospheric, right?"
From the pitch dark a bright flame bloomed as he lit a candle and set it on the bedside table, then shrugged as he asked.
"Uh… um… ah…"
But Freya's mind was still spinning in circles. Her usual sharp tongue had deserted her; all she could manage was stammering.
Rustle—
"Ah…!"
In that moment, Darian moved first.
He stripped the clothes from his upper body one piece at a time and tossed them carelessly to the floor, as if they were a nuisance. The body that appeared before Freya's eyes was solid muscle: defined abs, broad shoulders, a thick neck, a sharply cut jaw, and the faint scar near his left eye that only underscored his wildness.
The hair he usually kept neatly swept to the side was mussed now; when he roughly pushed it back and it fell loose around his face, Freya found herself staring before she could stop.
"What. Handsome?"
"Yes….. n-no! I mean… that is…! You're always handsome, so…"
I'm a man… is it all right for a wife who used to be a man to find another man this attractive…? I was a man originally…
She had lived forty full years as a man. Even if he was her husband, was it really okay to feel this drawn to him? Was something wrong with her sense of desire?
"My husband is always cute, too."
"Cu…?! Cute?!"
"Not just because you became a woman. I think you were always a cute person."
"N-no… I— I mean… that's…"
Those worries melted away at a single smiling compliment from Darian.
"Hoo…"
Thud—
Having thrown off his shirt, Darian sat in the center of the bed. Acutely aware of him, Freya quietly shifted herself toward the edge.
"..........."
"............"
A long silence followed.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
Awkwardness and excitement crashed together. Her heart hammered so loudly it felt ready to burst out of her mouth.
"Are you just going to sit there?"
"Hic?!"
The sudden question from the man watching her made Freya hiccup and flinch.
"Come here."
"..........."
At his gesture she dropped her gaze, rose carefully from her spot, and came to sit beside him.
"Cute. My husband."
"Ah…"
He tipped her chin up with his fingers and studied her bright-red face. Freya's lips parted slightly without her noticing.
Sway—
As if he couldn't stand how adorable she was, Darian leaned in until his lips were right in front of her nose.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
Her heart was pounding hard enough to explode. Her arms and legs trembled; her eyes darted wildly, unable to settle anywhere. In the end Freya squeezed them shut on instinct.
Mm—
And then their lips met again for the first time in a long while.
"Mmph?!"
Before she could even register the warm, slightly rough texture of his mouth, Freya's eyes flew open — his tongue had already slipped inside.
As if to make plain just how long he had been holding back, Darian's tongue moved without restraint, thoroughly exploring her mouth.
She couldn't keep up with the deep, insistent kiss as he coiled around her stiff tongue, and panic flickered through her — but he had no intention of letting her go. His arm locked around her waist, pulling her flush against him as the kiss continued.
With no room to breathe under the relentless pressure, her head went hazy and her forehead burned hot.
Chup— chuk— haah… hah…! chup…
Tongues tangled; he would pull back just long enough to let her gasp, then claim her mouth again. Freya could only try to follow.
Startled by how aggressive he was, she reflexively tried to push him away — but she was already held too tightly to escape. Her strength gave out. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned into him instead.
Body pressed to body, her chest rubbed against the solid wall of his torso, and her head spun.
"Hah…! Cough…! Cough…!"
A kiss that had felt like one second stretched into a full minute finally ended. When Darian eased back, a thin strand still connected their lips.
"Th-that was a little too intense all of a sudd—"
"Take it off."
"Eh? Tha………"
The kiss over, Freya had been about to lodge a half-hearted complaint against the man still clinging to her — only for Darian's blunt order to strip to leave her speechless.
"Yeees…♡"
By then both her cheeks were already dyed a deep, vivid red.