Chapter-01
Oscar’s lips curved into what seemed a polite smile, but in the depths of his wintry eyes, anger burned so fiercely it could almost be seen. He looked down on Liddel from above.
“It seems I’ve spoiled your pleasant little secret meeting. My wife must be terribly disappointed.”
“Y–You’re mistaken, my lord…! I wasn’t—”
“Don’t play innocent!”
His voice rose sharply as he slammed Liddel against the wall.
Thud! The dull sound echoed, and pain shot through her back so sharply that her breath caught.
Even as her face twisted in pain, her husband seemed not to care in the slightest. His fingers dug cruelly into her shoulders, gripping so hard that it hurt—unyielding, punishing.
Liddel was far too small and fragile to break free from the strength of a man trained as a knight.
“It… it hurts…! Please, stop, I beg you…!”
Her tearful pleas came again and again before at last the force on her shoulders loosened slightly—only for his hand to seize her chin roughly instead.
His eyes were those of a beast still intent on cornering its wounded prey.
No matter how coldly Oscar had treated her before, Liddel had never been afraid of him—until now.
Now, she was truly afraid.
She wanted to run—anywhere, as long as it was away from him.
For someone who had lived a life of gentle luxury, this was the first time she had ever known pain that could rightly be called violence.
“What did you tell Duke Cressen when you begged for his help? That you wanted him to rescue you from your cruel husband?”
“No, never…! I swear I would never say such a thing!”
No matter how she denied it, Oscar wouldn’t listen—he didn’t even try to.
“Unlike me—a mere earl with no great standing or fortune—Duke Cressen carries royal blood and serves as the crown prince’s right hand. I suppose to a former princess like you, he must seem a far more desirable match.”
“That’s not true! I… I had no idea my brother even thought such things!”
It was the longest conversation she had ever shared with her husband.
She had dreamed of this moment—of looking into Oscar’s eyes and speaking more than just a morning greeting.
But that it would be this kind of conversation—how cruelly ironic.
Liddel’s tearful words were met with a derisive laugh. Oscar brushed back his hair, his mouth twisting in disdain as he looked down at her.
“For someone so ignorant, you certainly looked pleased to be in his arms. Clinging to him, calling him ‘brother,’ while he called you ‘Lill,’ so very affectionately.”
“Th–That’s because…! He is my cousin! He’s treated me like a little sister since we were children—”
“Whose wife are you!?”
The air itself trembled with the force of his shout, freezing her heart solid.
The voice alone was enough to make her flinch—half expecting a blow to follow.
It didn’t, but Oscar’s anger boiled too fiercely to be spent by words alone.
“You are my wife—the wife of the Earl of Ashen! And yet you behave as if you were still a thoughtless child, letting other men call you by such intimate names… Have you no pride, no awareness of your station as a countess, or as a knight’s wife!?”
“I… I’m so sorry… I didn’t… I never thought—”
He was right.
As his wife, she should have carried herself with dignity.
She could no longer afford to treat other men, especially not men of standing, with the same casual warmth as before her marriage.
She had thought she understood that—but she hadn’t, not truly. Not until he said it now.
As Liddel turned pale with remorse, Oscar pressed on mercilessly.
“Of course not. You, a princess, could have had your pick of noble husbands. Yet you were married off to a penniless, bastard-born wretch from a barely known family. How could you possibly take pride in being that man’s wife?”
Liddel shook her head again and again.
No—that wasn’t true. It had never mattered to her whether he was rich or noble.
Even hearing now that he was an illegitimate child was a surprise; gossip she had never paid attention to.
She had admired Oscar not for his rank or wealth, but because, when she was ill, he had helped her without hesitation, without complaint, without a trace of annoyance.
That small kindness had been a treasure to her—a gem she had carried in her heart ever since.
But to him, that same moment had been nothing more than a pebble by the roadside.
When they met again after their marriage had been arranged, she had thanked him for that day.
His only response had been:
“I do not remember.”
“My lord… I truly was happy to marry you… It was my own wish—to become your wife.”
Pale and trembling, Liddel forced the words out.
No matter what he thought, she had chosen him of her own will.
She had to make him understand that—had to.
But her fragile courage was crushed, effortlessly, by the one person she wanted most to believe her.
“You don’t have to lie. I know well enough that becoming my wife is nothing but a stain on your glittering life.”
No matter how many times she cried no, Oscar refused to hear.
At last she could say nothing at all—only weep, silently, endlessly.
Her throat felt clogged, her chest heavy—
and in her mind echoed the sneering voices that had once mocked her:
Of course—the useless, dull-witted princess. Too foolish even to defend herself.
As she wept in silence, Oscar gave a low, mirthless laugh.
Before she could even think what it meant, his arms were around her again.
Her feet left the floor; her body swayed. Instinctively she clutched at his chest for balance, feeling the crisp fabric of his freshly pressed shirt.
Only then did she realize—he had lifted her.
Before she could speak, before she could even protest, he threw her down onto something soft.
The impact made her gasp, and the sound of the bed creaked loudly in her ears.
When she opened her eyes, she saw his cold gaze above her—and behind him, the familiar canopy of their bed.
The realization hit her all at once, and she twisted to escape—but his hand pinned her wrist to the sheets before she could move.
“Whether you wish it or not, as my wife you will perform your duty.”
A strangled sound caught in her throat—whether it reached him or not, she couldn’t tell.
His face loomed closer, his breath mingling with hers, his smile cruel and thin.
“I’ll give you your most important task as a wife—bear me an heir.”
“Wh–What…?”
“I’ve refrained until now, but if you’re going to welcome another man while I’m away, that would be troublesome, wouldn’t it?”
What… what is he saying…?
Her mind reeled. The words didn’t make sense—they wouldn’t fit.
Oscar didn’t wait for her answer. In truth, he had never intended to.
His smile vanished completely, and with eyes colder than steel, he spoke again—each word a blade that carved into her heart.
“I have no intention of raising a cuckoo’s chick. Whether it’s Duke Cressen’s or anyone else’s—I’ll have none of it. You will bear the child of Arling—my blood, and mine alone. That is your most important duty.”
Her scream was swallowed by his kiss, and until morning came, no one heard a single sound from her chamber.
