Special Honeymoon (1)
Sunlight slipped through the half-open curtains, casting a soft glow across the room.
Aracila stirred, rolling onto her side as her eyes fluttered open.
It was a touch earlier than her usual waking hour.
Her vision, still hazy with the remnants of sleep, sharpened instantly at the sight of a face that never failed to jolt her awake.
Silver hair glinting in the light, delicate eyes, a sharp nose, and lips set in a refined line—Damian lay there, still as a statue carved by a master’s hand.
The gentle morning rays of spring bathed his striking features in a radiant warmth. Aracila gazed quietly at his chiseled profile.
After tearing up their marriage contract and choosing to become husband and wife in earnest, they had merged their bedrooms. No longer did Damian resign himself to the discomfort of the study’s sofa; when night fell, he joined her in bed.
Yet, having both grown accustomed to sleeping alone for so long, they needed a period of adjustment.
Like now, for instance, when the first thing they saw upon waking was each other’s face.
He’s as handsome as ever, Aracila thought, a quiet admiration rising within her.
Weeks had passed since they began sharing a bed, yet the sight of him still drew a soft gasp of wonder. As if he’d overheard her unspoken thought, Damian, who had been sleeping soundly, suddenly turned toward her. His face, as if crafted with divine care, came into even closer view.
Slowly, his eyelids lifted. Caught staring, Aracila met his gaze with a bright smile and a warm greeting.
“Good morning, Damian. Sleep well?”
“And you, my lady?”
“Oh, my eyes are quite happy this morning.”
Damian let out a soft chuckle, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of Aracila’s hair behind her ear. Propping himself up on one elbow, he leaned in, brushing a light kiss across her cheek and then her lips.
“Time to get up,” he said.
“Alright.”
As Aracila stretched out her arms, Damian gently helped her sit up, his large hand steadying her back before sliding down slowly and slipping away.
The warmth of his touch lingered through her thin nightgown, sending a faint tickle through her.
She had once believed she’d never find meaning in sharing her life with another, but now, watching her husband’s retreating figure as he headed toward the bathroom, she realized how wrong she’d been.
There was something unexpectedly wonderful about being two instead of one.
Even the distance that still lingered between them—yet to be fully bridged—felt like a promise. She stretched slowly, savoring the thought.
It was a good morning.
After sharing a farewell kiss with Damian by the carriage, Aracila headed to the Magic Tower for work.
She powered through her morning tasks and, come lunchtime, met up with Paula for a meal outside.
As they chatted about trivial things, Paula slid a white envelope across the table just as dessert arrived.
“I’m getting married this fall, Aracila. Took longer than I expected, didn’t it?”
Aracila, caught off guard, examined the wedding invitation with a surprised expression.
Paula gave a faint smile. She had been engaged far earlier than Aracila, but her fiancé’s circumstances had delayed their plans.
Now, with the date finally set, she had come to personally deliver the invitation to her closest friend.
“Congratulations, Paula! I hope you’ll be so happy together. I’ll be there, no matter what.”
“Thanks, Aracila. I’m aiming to have a marriage as sweet as yours and Damian’s.”
After a whirlwind of challenges, Aracila and Damian had settled into a stable rhythm as a couple.
Paula, who had witnessed their struggles up close, beamed with a pride that felt almost personal.
“Mind if I pick the brain of a marriage veteran?” Paula asked.
“Of course! You can ask me anything, no hesitation.”
Aracila puffed out her chest, her eyes blazing with determination to help her friend.
Paula, sipping her tea with a smile, suddenly perked up as a thought struck her.
“Oh, by the way, where did you go for your honeymoon? I need to start planning mine, and I’m stumped.”
“…Huh? Oh, well, we were so busy back then that we didn’t actually go on one…”
Aracila’s response was tinged with sheepishness, her earlier confidence fading.
“Right, I forgot! Sorry about that,” Paula said, her brows drooping apologetically.
Aracila waved it off with a reassuring gesture and sliced into the cake served for dessert.
Their conversation drifted to other topics, lively and warm, until a brief lull settled in. Paula hesitated, then spoke cautiously.
“But don’t you feel a bit disappointed about not going on a honeymoon? I’m already buzzing with excitement just thinking about where to go and for how long.”
“Hmm, I haven’t really thought about it much.”
“You should consider it now, Aracila. Those kinds of things become cherished memories.”
“Maybe you’re right…”
Aracila’s expression turned pensive. Memories. Come to think of it, she and Damian hadn’t built many joyful ones together. After all, it hadn’t been long since they’d truly opened their hearts to each other and became a real couple.
Maybe a honeymoon wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
With that thought, Aracila sought out Damian the moment she returned home from work.
As luck would have it, she ran into him right at the entrance, his lips brushing her cheek in greeting.
“Welcome home, my lady.”
“Glad you’re back. I have something to talk about, Damian.”
Aracila didn’t pull away as his strong arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her half into his embrace.
She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Damian, who had been carefully studying his wife’s face after not seeing her all day, looked momentarily puzzled.
“What is it?”
“Let’s go on a honeymoon.”
The unexpected suggestion made Damian’s eyes widen slightly. Finding her resolute, almost solemn expression oddly endearing, he let out a soft chuckle and nodded readily.
If Aracila wanted something, he’d walk through the fires of hell itself to make it happen.
“It’s a bit sudden, but I’m in. I’ll select a few destinations and put together a plan. You just need to choose.”
“Sounds good.”
Aracila flashed a satisfied smile, rising onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
Smack, smack. The flurry of quick, playful kisses they exchanged drew warm, amused glances from the staff around them.
A few days later, Damian presented her with a proposal listing five potential destinations. Aracila chose the Kingdom of Roshan.
It was the country where a young Damian had been sent to study abroad, almost as if exiled. Located in the northwest of the empire, Roshan was renowned for its stunning coastline, drawing crowds of tourists in the summer.
Once the destination was decided, everything moved swiftly. Aracila formally requested summer leave from the Magic Tower and made preparations. Having cleared her tasks well in advance, no one stood in her way.
“Hey, guys, I’m taking some time off. Try not to bicker too much while I’m gone, alright?”
“Sure thing, boss. Where are you headed?” Sally asked, craning her neck with curiosity.
Aracila packed her bag, answering casually. “Honeymoon in Roshan. I’ll grab some souvenirs for you all on the way back.”
“Wow, thank you! Have an amazing honeymoon!”
“Will do. See you after the break.”
Aracila gave a bright smile and waved. Sally and Rudy returned her farewell, though they quickly fell back into their usual squabbling.
They’re so close, aren’t they? Aracila thought, humming to herself as she walked away.
Damian entrusted the Red Hawk Knights to Isaac and set out. With only a small retinue of attendants, the couple boarded an airship bound for Roshan.
Thump, thump, thump.
A pleasant excitement pulsed through Aracila’s chest. Standing by the window, she gazed down at the sprawling landscape below. Damian slipped an arm around her shoulders, standing close beside her.
“I’m feeling rather excited,” he said softly.
“You too? Maybe it’s because this is our first trip together, but I’m really looking forward to it.”
“I hope we come back with unforgettable memories, just the two of us.”
Aracila nodded with a warm smile, leaning her head against his chest. The closer they got to their destination, the more her anticipation grew.
When they finally set foot in the Kingdom of Roshan, a salty sea breeze greeted them, whipping strongly from the coast. Damian caught Aracila’s hat before it could fly away.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, marveling at the vibrant, colorful buildings—large and small—set against the emerald sea.
While Aracila eagerly drank in the unfamiliar sights of the kingdom, Damian, less captivated by the scenery, focused on her. Her sparkling, childlike excitement brought an involuntary smile to his face.
Soon, they boarded a carriage to the estate where they’d stay for the duration of their trip—a place Damian had used during his study abroad years.
He had hoped to secure a new residence, but Aracila had insisted on this one.
“Why buy another house when we can use the one you already have? It’s not like we’ll be coming here often.”
“But it’s small, and the exterior isn’t particularly charming. Are you sure it’s alright?”
“It’s more than alright. The fact that you once lived there makes it meaningful enough for me.”
Her radiant smile had left him no choice but to arrange for the estate to be thoroughly cleaned and spruced up in advance.
Upon arriving and unpacking, however, their first act wasn’t to rest in the neatly prepared rooms.
The King and Queen of Roshan, having heard of their visit, sent an invitation to a dinner at the palace.
After a brief rest, Aracila and Damian changed and headed to the royal castle.
“Welcome, welcome!”
The king, a warm and hearty man, greeted them with open friendliness. The couple returned polite smiles and bowed.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty. I am Damian Vandemir.”
“I’m Aracila Vandemir. Thank you for inviting us.”
Of course, it was a polite lie. They had hoped for a carefree honeymoon, but the royal couple, eager to forge ties with the new ducal pair, had seized the opportunity.
“My, what a stunning couple! You two are perfect together!” the slender queen said with a cheerful laugh, her voice warm with admiration.
Behind her stood three young women, hands clasped demurely—the princesses of Roshan.
The queen pulled forward the tallest, who appeared to be the eldest, taking her hand.
“This is my eldest daughter, Violet. Her dream is to become a refined and exemplary bride, just like the duchess.”
“Is that so?”
Aracila, who had never aspired to be such a bride herself, simply smiled and nodded politely.
Curiously, it was Violet who, for a fleeting moment, betrayed a glint of defiance in her eyes.
