Chapter 56. Kissing About a Hundred Times
On instinct, Frida immediately wrapped her arms around Daniel’s neck. She’d been carried by him a few times before, so the floating sensation wasn’t as unfamiliar or scary as it used to be.
“D-Daniel?”
Daniel hoisted her up and strode purposefully up the stairs. Muriel, speechless, faded from sight as Daniel quickly ascended, and the servants they passed stumbled out of the way, bowing awkwardly. Not sure where else to look, Frida just clung tighter and buried her face against his neck.
“Daniel, put me down. I can walk.”
“You look tired.”
Daniel’s forehead brushed softly against her brow.
“You have a fever, too.”
His calm, low voice belied the heat in his breath against her skin. When Frida glanced up, she saw his throat working, as if he was trying to keep himself under control. She felt a little tired, but did she really look that bad? She gave him a pout.
“Really? Do I look that sick?”
By the time she asked, Daniel had already reached the third floor and was walking down the hallway. He stopped and gazed down at Frida, her pale lashes drooping tiredly. For a moment, with her white face flickering in and out of the sunlight, he felt like he was dreaming.
“Daniel, over here. Right here.”
Her voice echoed in his memory, floating on a lazy spring breeze, tickling his ears. The way she called his name sounded so new and unfamiliar, he hesitated to answer. Under the clear blue sky, Frida herself seemed dazzling—he couldn’t tell what was light and what was her. It felt like he was teetering on the border between dream and reality. He could see her, hear her, even hold her in his arms, and yet she still felt like an illusion. It made him anxious. What if, when he finally reached out, she vanished like a mirage? If that happened, would he once again see himself, helpless, with empty hands—like the day he’d thrown himself to save Dominic, his mind going blank and the world going dark?
“Daniel?”
A warm touch on his cheek snapped him back to the present. Daniel blinked rapidly, letting in the light. Frida was there, as if giving him some of her own life—her hand on his face, watching him steadily.
I’m right here. Right in front of you.
Her clear violet eyes studied him with concern, and Daniel let out a half-hearted laugh. Who was she to worry about him in that condition?
“Do you even realize how much you’re overexerting yourself?”
As he spoke, Frida’s hand fell from his cheek. She looked away shyly, her cheeks flushed.
“But still, you can’t just do this in front of everyone! People will gossip about the duke and duchess, you know. Please put me down.”
“So it’s fine as long as nobody’s watching?”
“Daniel, that’s not what I meant.”
He wanted to tease her a little longer, but they’d reached her door, so he gently set her down in the hall.
“If you don’t like me doing this, take better care of yourself. I want you to…”
But he still didn’t let go. He slid his arm around her waist and trapped her close, gazing down at her.
“Frida, I want you to stay healthy.”
She squirmed, trying to escape, but only looked away, blushing deeper.
“It’s not that I don’t like it… it’s just embarrassing.”
Again, Daniel’s vision darkened—except now, the world seemed blurred around Frida’s white face, which filled his view. That face looked up at him, smiling shyly, cheeks pinker than ever. When she averted her eyes, he tilted her chin up, bringing himself closer and closer, until he overflowed in her gaze. He pressed his lips gently to hers—soft enough to bruise, but careful and searching. He’d never learned how to kiss a woman, but somehow he knew exactly what to do. His hands tangled in her hair, slid down to cradle her neck, feeling the delicate tremor there. With every rising degree of her body’s warmth and the quickening beat of her pulse, he was reminded that she was real, and with him now. That realization sent a fierce joy rising up inside him.
In a pitch-black room with not a hint of light, all Matilda could hear was her own ragged breathing.
“Matilda.”
Hearing her name suddenly made her jump. Startled, Matilda twisted her wrists behind her back and tried to push herself farther away. Her broken leg throbbed with pain, but the urge to get even a little farther from the voice was stronger.
“There’s no point in resisting. You’ll only make it worse.”
The voice was familiar, but at the same time, completely strange. Could that cold, eerie tone really belong to Dominic? The man who always made everyone laugh with his clever jokes, whose voice sometimes made her heart race—could he really sound like this? She shook her head in disbelief, unable to accept either the changed Dominic or her own predicament.
“I don’t know! I really don’t know! I don’t even know who the Dowager Empress is, I swear. Why are you doing this to me, Dominic?”
Dragged here and locked up without warning, Matilda had no idea how long she’d been trapped, or why. All she knew was terror. And then Dominic’s question: When did you start working with the Dowager Empress? The Dowager Empress? The Emperor’s mother? Matilda, who had only ever been a maid, had only heard of her in rumors.
“How could I possibly know someone so important? I swear, I don’t know anything.”
She’d cried so much her blindfold was never dry. At first, she was just scared, but now, mostly, she felt hurt. How could Dominic do this to her, after all the years they’d spent together?
“Please believe me, Dominic. We’ve all lived like a family, haven’t we? Why would I ever betray you?”
Dominic grabbed her arms and hauled her upright.
“Aagh!”
Pain exploded through her injured leg as he dragged her.
“Matilda.”
His voice sounded even colder.
“I don’t enjoy seeing you suffer. But you’re mistaken about something.”
Dominic moved in close, his breath brushing her blindfold.
“My only family is my father and Daniel. You… you’re nothing.”
His words were inhuman, but his breath was still warm.
“Let’s just get this over with. Please.”
Even that plea was cold.
The kiss that started at her door continued into the bedroom, then onto the bed. Daniel never let Frida go, his lips never leaving hers. Only when Frida started gasping for breath did he move, letting his lips wander down to her neck, her shoulder, the hollow between her collarbones. Only then did she become aware of the dust clinging to his body from his visit to the fields and the mercenaries’ quarters. She pushed at his broad shoulders, breathless.
“Uh, Daniel…”
“Yes?”
At once, his lips found the softest part of her skin. He really was too shameless about this sort of thing. Frida thumped his shoulder, embarrassed.
“I… I want to wash up first. Let’s do this after we bathe. I feel dirty.”
A deep chuckle rumbled from Daniel’s chest. He lifted his head, meeting her eyes with a gentle smile.
“After we wash, what do you want to do?”
“What?”
He grinned, mischievous as a boy.
“After we get clean—what will we do then?”
His eyes even seemed to turn a little red at the word “clean.”
“Well… isn’t it obvious?” Frida’s already flushed face went even redder as she stammered. “Uh, a wife’s duty?”
Daniel’s smile widened. Watching him laugh was worth the embarrassment, but getting out of this situation was more urgent.
“The Hawkborn family nanny always said to bathe thoroughly before a wife’s duty.”
At that, Daniel’s lips twitched, then a laugh finally broke free.
His low, rumbling laugh was so pleasant to hear. Still, he seemed awfully composed, as if he’d done this a hundred times before. Frida, in contrast, was lost.
“Stop laughing! Unlike you, I don’t know much about this stuff—everything I know comes from the nanny.”
As she turned away in a huff, Daniel pressed a kiss to her cheek, his smile still lingering.
“What else did the nanny tell you? If I don’t want to disappoint you as a husband, I should probably know.”
“What?”
Frida stared at him, confused.
“Unfortunately, there’s nobody around me to give advice about normal married life. So, we bathe first. What comes after?”
What was this—was he teasing her, or was he actually just as clueless? How old was he again? Twenty-five at the wedding, so twenty-eight now. Three years lost to separation, but… had he never been with anyone before? The nanny had insisted Daniel would know what to do, and when the time came, just to go along with it. As if reading her mind, Daniel traced her frown with his thumb, gentle.
“I thought I’d told you—I have no intention of ever taking a mistress.”
Did that mean… truly, honestly, she was the only woman he’d ever had?
“But since it’s not our duty tonight, you don’t have to worry.”
His hand slid from her brow, brushing her hair behind her ear.
“We’ll wait until you’re completely ready for that.”
“Ready? Wh-what does that mean?”
Her voice came out shaky and uncertain, even to her own ears.
“I mean when you’re ready to really accept me.”
“And when will that be?”
The sooner, the better. Daniel’s smile curled as he softly traced the shape of her lips.
“Let’s see. Maybe after we’ve kissed… oh, about a hundred times.”
