The Newlyweds and the Villainess
I drifted out of an aching dream.
Beneath a canopy of starlight, a warm avenue of orange lantern light stretched into the distance. Tilting my gaze upward, I saw a majestic palace looming against the night sky, and upon the terrace extending from its grand banquet hall leaned a woman who seemed draped in all the world's authority, looking utterly languid. She cast a fleeting glance toward me as I wandered below. I returned her gaze, only to quickly avert my eyes. I could not say why, but I felt an unshakable certainty that I knew her well—even though her face was overlaid with a haze of static that obscured everything.
Just as I was about to slip away, a man stepped out onto the terrace beside her. A man and a woman sharing a secluded terrace could only mean a secret rendezvous. Lingering any longer felt uncomfortably like peeping on their tryst, so I hurried my pace to spare myself the embarrassment.
I realized almost immediately that I had made a terrible mistake.
A burst of raised voices shattered the quiet, followed by a silhouette trembling with violent force. Then, a streak of crimson plunged through the air. Belatedly grasping what was happening, I sprinted forward with everything I had. If I failed, the grand banquet would be painted in a woman's blood.
With the rushing wind whipping against my skin, I threw myself forward and caught her just in time. Amidst the blur of her features, the only distinct sight was a pair of ruby eyes that locked squarely with mine. They were vacant, devoid of any human emotion—so numb that it was impossible to believe she had just stared death in the face. But the moment her lips parted to speak, the world distorted into a haze, and my vision flickered out. The dream world collapsed.
When I opened my eyes in reality, the guest greeting me was the dazzling morning sun. It was fierce enough to have shattered the dream's final moments. I stretched with a wide yawn and gave my review of the night's sleep.
"What a bizarre dream."
Even to my own ears, it sounded ridiculous.
Seven in the morning was a bit early for the children to be awake. Yurian was the earliest riser among them, but even he wouldn't stir for another half hour. Tina and Glenn usually didn't get up until eight. That made this the ideal time to slip into the kitchen and prepare breakfast.
Time to fill their bellies again today, I resolved as I pushed open the kitchen door—only to freeze in utter shock.
"Gasp...!"
Someone was already there. And what was more, someone who had no business being here at all.
"Lady Luminel...?" I called out cautiously.
"Elpisia."
"Pardon?"
As I blurted the foolish question, she corrected me without missing a beat.
"Call me Elpisia. Surely you haven't forgotten the nature of our relationship already?"
"I know, ah... Miss Elpisia."
"Try again."
"...Elpisia."
"Good. Harte."
With a haughty flick of her head, Elpisia turned back to her task. Given her intense concentration, I felt guilty interrupting, but the sheer bizarreness of the scene forced the words from my throat.
"Elpisia... what on earth are you doing?"
"Your honorifics are excessive. If you are only going to speak in awkward formalities, you may as well speak plainly."
"Well, that's a bit..."
"Rule number one: uphold your spousal duties." As I hesitated under the sheer weight of the situation, Elpisia coolly reminded me of our pact. "What sort of married couple tiptoes around each other like strangers?"
"Are you... truly all right with that?"
"Do not flatter yourself. This is strictly for the sake of the contract. There is no reason to feel burdened."
"If you say so... all right."
A thorough, uncompromising woman. That was my impression of Elpisia so far, which made the question burning in my chest all the more urgent.
"Elpisia, more to the point, may I ask what you're doing...?"
"Are you still half-asleep? As you can plainly see, I am cooking."
"...At this hour?"
I had come at this hour to prepare the children's meal, but Elpisia had clearly been working away long before I even stepped foot in here. It was far too early.
Elpisia shot me a sidelong glance.
"Haah. Because this is the hour you wake up, obviously."
"And... why does that matter?"
"What do you mean, 'why'? What is strange about a wife preparing breakfast for her husband?"
"What?"
"Hurry and wash your hands, then sit and wait. It's almost finished."
As if under a spell, I obeyed her instructions and sat down at the dining table, staring intently at her impassive face as she finished the cooking.
"Do... do ducal ladies usually cook? Er, I mean, do you cook?"
"...I didn't."
A past-tense answer. Did she have some painful history? Fearing I might tread on a sensitive personal matter, I didn't dare press further.
Amidst that awkward silence, Elpisia set a plate down before me on the table.
It was a meat sauté. Thickly cut beef seared with a master's harmony of high and low heat, finished with fresh lemon juice and fragrant herbs that cut the gaminess and elevated the succulent texture. It looked simple on the surface, but the dish spoke of formidable culinary technique.
It's completely to my taste.
It was obviously pure coincidence, yet it felt uncanny, as though our minds were connected. Slicing into the meat and lifting a bite to my mouth, I could not hold back a silent gasp.
Whoa...!
It was genuinely so delicious that it took an effort of will not to shout in delight. Every burst of savory roasted meat and bright citrus sent my appetite surging higher.
"Is it to your liking?" Elpisia asked with cool nobility. Her expression was like carved stone, as though she had no interest in anyone else's evaluation.
Caught completely off guard by the sudden inquiry mid-chew, I ended up choking on my food.
"Cough!"
"Good grief. Here."
Thunk.
Elpisia swiftly placed a glass of water right before me. Even while scowling, her actions were unfailingly kind. Confronted with such a strange contradiction, cold sweat broke out across my brow.
"Th-thank you, Elpisia."
"Do not mention it. I am merely fulfilling my duty." And without fail, she added the finishing blow: "Because of the contract."
"Ah, haha..."
Truthfully, even if she neglected the contract entirely, I had never intended to hold her to account. As long as she brought no harm to the children, that was more than enough. Yet Elpisia threw herself into married life far beyond any expectation. Surprisingly, she possessed a fierce sense of responsibility.
"Still, with you treating me so well, it almost feels like a dream that you grabbed me by the hair and threw a tantrum not so long ago."
"Kh...!?"
It had only been a lighthearted joke meant to melt the frosty air, but Elpisia's face instantly bloomed with bright crimson. Her eyes shook as though hit by a localized tremor, and I could practically feel the nervous vibration of her legs from across the table.
"You...!" she raised her voice. "Forget that this instant! I was merely terrified that my proposal would be rejected!"
"Hey now, telling the victim to just forget it is a bit cruel, don't you think?"
"Ugh... That is not my usual personality. Bear that in mind, at the very least! No, engrave it into your memory!"
"Well... all right."
Indeed, for the cold and ruthless Elpisia to grab a man by the hair upon their very first meeting was absurd under ordinary circumstances. It made no sense unless it had been an impulsive fit of shock and panic.
"It certainly hurt back then, but... thank you, Elpisia."
"What is this all of a sudden?"
"I never cared much about contracts. Honestly, you're the precious young lady of a ducal house, and I'm merely a commoner. I assumed that once the wedding vows were signed, you might turn on a dime, and I couldn't really complain if you did."
"My, how delightful to hear you took me for a scoundrel devoid of honor and good faith."
"I'm sorry about that. It's just... I finally feel sure now."
"Sure?"
As Elpisia tilted her head in confusion, I finally offered her a warm, relaxed smile.
"I think we might actually make a decent couple. Even if there's no love between us, we can still respect each other... just like this morning."
Upholding our duties as husband and wife. With just that single promise, we could solve many of the difficulties ahead. Helping one another when things were hard and sharing goodwill, we could become an ordinary family.
Upon hearing my thoughts, Elpisia shot to her feet.
"...Haah."
"Elpisia?"
"I will be going upstairs."
"...Did I get ahead of myself? Did I upset you?"
"Not particularly." She planted one foot outside the kitchen doorway and tossed her parting words over her shoulder. "Fill the basin with water to make washing easier. I will finish the dishes before lunchtime."
"W-wait, Elpisia!"
Click!
Elpisia swiftly shut the kitchen door. The muffled rhythm of her brisk footsteps retreated down the hallway.
"I was going to say... I'd do the dishes..." I murmured to the empty room.
What had struck a nerve so badly that her mood did a complete about-face? Having only recently met, she was a difficult woman to read. I wanted to understand the person named Elpisia as soon as possible. Because even if our union had begun as a contract, we were already family.
"...Still, this really is delicious."
Elpisia's cooking was easily the best sautéed beef I had ever tasted in my life. Almost as if she had spent years studying my personal preferences...
Returning to her bedchamber in brisk strides, Elpisia threw herself face-first onto the mattress. She yanked the duvet over her head and curled into a tight ball like a shrimp.
Hot. It was suffocatingly hot. Yet she refused to bare her face to the world. What if someone barged through the door as a prank?
A face dyed scarlet, like fresh pomegranate juice splattered across porcelain, was something she could never let another soul see.
"Hnghh..."
Harte was straightforward to the point of foolishness. Past, present, or future, the man never changed in the slightest. After living for that long, one would expect a person to stray off the beaten path at least a few times, yet...
"You still loved it... just as you used to."
Sautéed beef. The very dish Harte had once told her he favored most. To pry a genuine compliment of pure delight from a man whose undiscerning palate shoveled down anything without hesitation—she couldn't begin to tally the endless hours it had taken to reach this moment.
Elpisia gazed down at her fingers.
They're clean now...
In the past, her hands had known no rest. Blistering every day, slick with ointment and hidden inside gloves, she had been scolded incessantly to quit such madness. Starting so late in life, she was dreadfully clumsy, and progress had been agonizingly slow. Naturally so—cooking was never a refinement deemed suitable for high nobility. Nobles were people who hired chefs, nothing more. Being completely inept was only to be expected.
And so she had practiced. Tirelessly. Unfazed by the burns and cuts, she had proudly shown him her clumsy efforts. Because he was a man who cherished rough, honest devotion far more than shimmering treasures. That was why she had wanted to present him with the fruits of her own labor.
"Honestly... I am still so hopelessly inept."
She was supposed to keep him at arm's length. Maintain a detached, businesslike demeanor as complete strangers... Yet whenever she looked at Harte's face, the tension in her expression melted away against her will. Just a few gentle words made her dimples threaten to show, a sensation that felt perilously close to ruin.
And what was worse...
Those words kept echoing in her ears, which was why she had fled the kitchen in the first place.
A couple... married...
Hearing it directly from his lips had been almost more than she could endure. And in the midst of it all, shameless as she was, her heart still clung to that idea, until at last, a secret longing she dared not utter in the light of day slipped past her lips.
"...Darling."
Flap!
A sudden kick of her feet sent the duvet thrashing. Elpisia immediately buried her face in the pillow, rubbing her burning cheeks against the linen until she wore herself out.
Her malfunctioning heart showed no sign of quieting down.
Not for a very, very long time.