Special Honeymoon (2)
The Roshan royal family had prepared a more luxurious banquet than expected.
It seemed like their way of compensating for dragging the couple here on their honeymoon two years after their marriage.
The king and queen put in quite an effort to make the dining atmosphere pleasant.
Considering the difference in national power between the Roshan Kingdom and the Setron Empire, as well as the fact that Aracila and Damian were recent heroes who had captured rebels, it wasn’t hard to understand.
Moreover, Damian was the young head of the Vandermir Ducal House, one of the pillars of the empire, and Aracila was a mage who would become the future Master of the Magic Tower.
“I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to hear that the duke and duchess were coming. In an era like this, where young people neglect their families and countries in favor of play, you two are an exemplary couple—upright and admirable in every way.”
“That’s right. Your reputations are so renowned; I’ve been dying to meet you both.”
The queen, chiming in with the king’s hearty laughter, looked at Aracila seated across from her.
From her doll-like, finely sculpted face to her impeccable posture and etiquette. Despite her glamorous appearance, her polite and gentle demeanor won the queen over completely, filling her with boundless affection as she spoke sweetly.
“I can’t imagine how the duchess’s mother raised such a beautiful and proper daughter. I’m truly envious. Our children still have so much to learn.”
“You’re too kind, Your Majesty the Queen.”
“Oh my, and so modest too!”
The queen, who had been praising Aracila until her lips wore out, suddenly pointed to her daughters quietly eating beside her and raised her voice.
“I really envy the duchess’s mother. My daughters are all so careless and reckless, boyish even, and they’re not as beautiful as the duchess—they’re quite plump. See? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Uh, Mom…”
The second princess of the Roshan Kingdom, Jasmine, blushed. Among her siblings, she had the largest build and the most flesh. Her mother had pointed this out multiple times, making it a complex for her.
When Aracila’s gaze briefly turned toward her, Jasmine’s neck flushed red as well, and she bowed her head.
“The princesses are beautiful and wonderful too.”
“Oh, no need for empty words. I’m worried whether these girls will ever get married at all. Having so many daughters is such a headache, really.”
The queen let out a deep sigh. With no sons, marrying off her daughters was like a mission for her. She had to bring in sons-in-law to continue the royal line.
She grabbed the shoulder of her eldest daughter, Violet, seated right next to her, and said,
“Especially our eldest—she’s reliable, but she’s too lacking in charm and so brusque. If she acted a bit more ladylike, she’d get a good reputation as bride material and marry well.”
Violet’s hand tightened around her utensils. It seemed like she wanted to snap back but was holding it in—or perhaps she had resigned herself.
Aracila, who had been staring at them openly, spoke softly.
“You don’t have to be so tied to marriage, Your Majesty. The princesses’ futures aren’t limited to just that. They could become mages like me, knights like my husband, or even inventors.”
Violet, who had been looking down, glanced up at Aracila. When their eyes met directly, Aracila smiled warmly.
“The princesses have limitless potential, so don’t worry too much.”
“Ah… thank you for saying that.”
The queen, slightly flustered by the unexpected response, covered her mouth with her hand and laughed. Deep down, she had hoped Aracila would sympathize with her concerns and give her daughters some good advice on marriage, so she felt disappointed.
On the other hand, noticing that the princesses’ darkened expressions had softened considerably, Aracila resumed her meal.
For some reason, Violet kept glancing her way, so Aracila offered a light nod with a faint eye smile, causing Violet to visibly fluster and turn her head away.
After that, the conversation flowed ordinarily—without gossiping about anyone or nitpicking. Thanks to that, they were able to conclude the dinner in a not-so-bad atmosphere.
* * *
“Is the Roshan royal family always this sociable?”
Damian, who had been lifting a water glass, turned his head at the question that suddenly came from behind. Aracila, comfortably lying on the queen-sized bed, was staring at him blankly.
The room they were in now was originally the one Damian had used alone, but the single bed had been removed, and it had been newly redecorated for a couple.
It wasn’t as large and spacious as the Vandermir mansion, but it felt cozy in its own way, which Aracila quite liked.
“When I was studying abroad here, they weren’t particularly like that. As usual, they probably adjust their treatment based on one’s status.”
Back then, the royal family had shown no interest in whether Damian came or not. The Vandermir Ducal House hadn’t given any special instructions, and the reason for sending a young son alone all the way here was obvious.
They had neglected the child they assumed had been abandoned by his family, but now that he had grown up and returned as a duke, they felt a pang of conscience and were being extra attentive to the couple.
“It’s a bit off-putting. The princesses aren’t even that old, yet they’re already pressuring them about marriage.”
Aracila’s expression turned displeased.
The eldest princess would come of age next year, and the second and third were still in their early to mid-teens. They weren’t old enough or late enough to warrant such excessive worry.
“I don’t want to get close to them.”
“I already politely declined the next dinner invitation anyway. Above all, I have no desire to engage in diplomacy while on our honeymoon.”
“Good job, Damian.”
Aracila pulled her hand out from under the blanket and gave a thumbs-up. Her face looked slightly sleepy, so Damian chuckled and said,
“You must be tired, so get some rest, my lady.”
“Okay.”
Aracila pulled the blanket up to her chest and seemed about to close her eyes, but then she slightly lifted her head to look at Damian.
She stared intently at him as he drank water, wearing a loosely tied robe with his hand on his waist, and slowly moved her lips.
“Damian, I have a question.”
“Yes.”
“Are we consummating our marriage tonight?”
Damian, who had been casually finishing the remaining water, spat it out right then. Choking on the unexpected question, he coughed violently, his entire face turning bright red.
“—Cough, cough!”
“Are you okay?”
Startled, Aracila sat up abruptly. Damian, barely calming down, gestured for her not to come closer.
Wiping the water from his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at Aracila with eyes shaking wildly.
“W-why suddenly ask something like that…”
“Why? Usually, couples consummate before or after their honeymoon. But we didn’t do it before coming here.”
“Well, that’s true, but…”
Perhaps because they hadn’t followed the standard path of a couple, their physical intimacy hadn’t progressed that quickly. It hadn’t been long since they could kiss and embrace without embarrassment.
At first, even kissing alone in private made their hearts pound wildly, leading to fake coughs and deep breaths—it was chaos. Even as full-grown adults, they couldn’t help the trembling and excitement.
So when Aracila suddenly brought up consummation, Damian felt sweat pouring out as if it were midsummer, his mind in disarray.
Unable to stay still, he ran his fingers through his hair, and Aracila, watching him steadily, blurted out,
“If you’re pursuing platonic love, just tell me. I’ll go along with it.”
“No, it’s not that.”
Damian, who had answered instinctively, covered his face with his palm in embarrassment. Aracila tilted her head.
“Then what? Ah, are you worried because it’s your first time and you might not do well?”
“…”
As Damian remained silent, unable to confirm or deny, Aracila rummaged under her pillow and pulled something out.
“Don’t worry. I brought a education book just in case. Let’s study it together.”
“…Aren’t you embarrassed, my lady?”
“About what? education isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
Aracila confidently held out the book. Damian sighed, pressing his forehead. How could someone be so adorably eccentric?
He suddenly recalled the first night they had fully shared a room. When his wife lay beside him—her body small, her touching skin soft, and her scent pleasant—he had frozen stiff.
‘Damian.’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I hold your hand?’
In response to her cautious request, Damian gently took her warm, slender hand in his, holding it with care. A dense, suffocating atmosphere enveloped the two of them, making it hard to breathe.
It was a situation where anything could happen without seeming out of place. In the moment he briefly pondered whether to kiss her next, Aracila spoke up.
“Do you trust me? I’ll really just hold your hand and sleep.”
“Pardon? Ah…”
She didn’t have to do that, but Aracila truly did just hold his hand and fall asleep. Normally, unless something special was happening, she was the type who fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillow.
After a few days passed like that, simply lying in bed together no longer sufficed to create a plausible atmosphere.
Damian didn’t want to push things recklessly, so he waited for the right moment, but then Aracila suddenly dropped a bombshell.
Watching Damian rub the back of his flushed neck, Aracila pondered something deeply before raising both hands high and lying back down on the bed.
“Okay, fine. For today, at least, come and lie down without worry. I won’t do anything.”
“…Is that the sort of line a wife usually says?”
“Who cares who says it? I’ll even give you an arm pillow, so hurry up and come here.”
So, was that also something a typical wife would say?
Aracila stretched out her incredibly thin arm and patted the bed firmly. Damian let out a wry chuckle as he approached the bed.
“I’ll be the one to give you the arm pillow.”
“Well then, I won’t refuse—”
As Damian lay down beside her and extended his arm, Aracila quickly rested her head on it. She shifted a few times until she found the most comfortable position.
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Damian gazed down tenderly at his wife, who fit perfectly in his embrace, and pressed a kiss to her round forehead. Aracila, her eyes crinkling in delight, whispered.
“Good night.”
“…Sweet dreams.”
The moment they exchanged their goodnight kiss, Aracila fell asleep without a hint of hesitation. Damian’s gaze upon her was complicated.
She really does whatever she wants—building the mood or shattering it entirely. That’s my wife for you.
Did he really need to read that book, or what?
In the end, that night, Damian didn’t sleep a wink. The word “wedding night” refused to leave his mind.
