Rude is harsh to everyone in the world, but he is harshest to himself.

Perhaps I feel a greater sense of kinship because we have similar aspects. Merche also becomes coldest when looking at herself.

The only difference is that Rude treats himself not with coldness, but with disgust.

He easily belittles himself, treating himself as vile and ugly. I could roughly guess where the root of this came from.

They would not have carefully nurtured him as a slave in the arena, so he must have lived a life where contempt was natural from the time he was a lump of flesh until he became a person.

Merche stared blankly at Rude’s hardened eyes.

Inside him, anxious and uneasy emotions were still boiling.

Just as he did, would Merche see him as ugly, and thus abandon him again? Although she hadn’t heard his inner thoughts, as she looked at him, she felt she could read his mind.

Rude. Merche called him clearly, putting strength in her voice.

“You are not ugly. What is ugly are the people who hurt you like this.”

“…I know that old man deserves to be torn to death.”

That’s not what’s important.

Although it is a problem that his hands, which have become like worn-out trash, have been completely exposed, the most troubling issue is that Genovefa has been mentioned in this conversation.

“I…, I inherited that bastard’s blood.”

Of all things. Half of the blood flowing through his body was Genovefa’s.

That became his worst and undeniable original sin.

I stupidly fell for that bastard’s words and kept you.

Rude recited the endlessly growing list of crimes as if in a daze, framing you with a ridiculous false charge, and stupidly running his mouth to get your beloved younger sibling captured, and you…

In fact, that was true. The reason why, as soon as he became the head of the family, he tried to cut off the lifeline in the most painful way, but in the end couldn’t kill Genovefa with his own hands.

It seemed that only if Merche eliminated Genovefa with her own hands would Rude’s sins also disappear.

Even knowing it was a ridiculous and foolish thought, he still felt that way.

“…Don’t look.”

Rude hastily pulled away his caught hand.

As if not wanting to reveal the skin with evident scars, he roughly spread open his glove and forcefully pushed his hand into the gap.

“I’m an ugly and dirty bastard. As long as I was born with that bastard’s blood, I’m the same kind of bastard.”

“Rude.”

“But…, even so. Because I’m that kind of bastard, I can’t let you go.”

I’ve done everything I could, struggling and trembling to prove it. I didn’t force or threaten you because you said not to, and I tried hard not to do things you dislike.

So, Merche.

“Don’t abandon me.”

In the end, it’s back to square one. The same words, the same situation as when he was barking while holding out that unsightly rag-like laurel wreath.

Merche could abandon him at any time, and she had enough reasons to do so.

That made Rude’s nerves frayed every moment. Always pretending to be calm and arrogant, he kept a sharp eye out, wondering when he would be abandoned. Just like now.

When he was gasping as if all the blood in his body was drying up, a soft voice called him.

Rude. Following that voice filled with affection that made him hang on, he desperately clung to Merche’s gaze.

“You are not ugly. You and Genovefa are different.”

Merche gently but firmly removed the glove from Rude’s hand again.

The waterlogged glove slipped down to the floor along the bedspread where she sat.

“I know you’re trying. If we can walk together like this, I won’t let you go either.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I promise.”

“I still don’t believe it.”

Then what should I do to make you believe? At Merche’s question, Rude brazenly lifted his chin.

“Give me a kiss or something.”

It was half-serious, but since he thought he would be rejected anyway, he made such a bold and shameless request.

However, unexpectedly, Merche didn’t immediately refuse.

No way. It couldn’t be. It was the moment when an expectation like salt that would melt at the touch of water began to rise.

Merche’s two hands lightly touched his shoulders and her body tilted.

“…Are you joking?”

Rude, who had been stiffly frozen, only rubbed the spot where her lips had touched and left after Merche moved away.

It was his forehead. So what just happened wasn’t a kiss, but merely a peck. It’s just a common touch that is often given by someone bestowing a blessing on a knight.

“You call this kind of thing a kiss? What childish nonsense, how is this a kiss.”

“If it’s not a kiss, then what is it?”

Merche looked rather aggrieved at Rude’s irritation.

The Ashtad couple she had seen in her childhood often exchanged such kisses.

Sometimes on the forehead, sometimes on the cheek.

However, the cheek seemed like too intimate a part, so she had chosen the forehead as her own compromise.

“If you’re talking about a different kind of kiss, that’s something only married couples exchange…”

“Ah, forget it. Then something else.”

Shaking his head vigorously, Rude made another request.

“I’ll kiss you, so you allow it.”

“……”

“I’ll do it moderately. Really, I’m not lying.”

The shameless attitude as if demanding something he should have received originally was startling, but the contradictory politeness of not barging in and waiting for permission was unexpected.

Perhaps because of this, Merche couldn’t easily suppress the affirmative words that kept trying to rise.

The fact that he didn’t force or push his way arbitrarily. For that reason alone, Merche’s heart, which had been like an iron fortress, melted like snow under the sun.

“Alright. But…”

She was about to say that it should stop at a moderate level as he had said.

If only Rude hadn’t devoured her lips without giving her a chance to breathe as soon as she said it was okay.

It was a considerably shocking and unfamiliar experience for Merche.

The breath of another person, which she had never thought would mingle with hers, rushed into her mouth.

As her lips were swallowed in the middle of speaking, she had to accept Rude’s breath exploring her mouth without even the minimum defense.

At some point, unnoticed hands embraced her nape and waist, while he gently held Merche’s lips.

Although his desperate heart and impulse were clear, he didn’t dig in too roughly, seeming to try to maintain a moderate level in his own way.

However, because Rude wouldn’t let her go at all, her breathing became rapid, though not severely.

Inevitably, Merche held his two cheeks as if cradling them and created a gap for a moment.

“Why, are you not satisfied with what I’m doing?”

Rude asked obliquely with those slanted eyes of his.

What should I answer? To this shameless and arrogant man. Frustratingly, no suitable words to retort came to mind.

While gazing deeply into those wine-colored eyes soaked in sticky greed and calming her excited breathing little by little, it was only for a moment.

As Rude tried to close the distance, unable to hold back, Merche cupped his cheeks once again.

“Wait.”

“…What kind of idiot interrupts in the middle of kissing. And Lady Merche, you said you’d allow me to kiss you. You should keep your promises, like the noble you’ve learned to be.”

“That’s a welcome remark. I’m trying to act as I’ve learned as a noble.”

“I guess nobles learn how to kiss too?”

Merche didn’t deny it. In fact, she had indeed learned in detail about various intimate acts that should be shared between married couples.

Perhaps Rude, being a grown adult, wasn’t touched by Elizabeth or Genovefa, but usually, children of noble families received intimate education from around the age of ten.

So instead of answering, Merche approached first this time and held Rude’s lips.

Thanks to Rude, who created a gap between his lips as if he had been waiting, she could easily explore inside.

The kiss initiated by Merche flowed relatively softly, yet fluidly like water.

Not as breathtakingly intense as before, yet strangely explicit. It was a truly noble kiss where the meeting lips and exchanged breaths harmonized.

With a soft sound, Rude pressed his lips against her white, soft cheek.

Even while planting feather-light kisses, his eyes, brimming with desire, never dimmed.

“…Are you sleepy?”

But no matter how blinded by desire, he couldn’t ignore those drowsy eyes tinged with sleepiness.

When Merche hesitated and then nodded frankly, he stepped back, suppressing his desire with all his might.

He couldn’t bear to see her fall asleep while kissing.

“Don’t have any unnecessary dreams. Dream about me.”

Delivering his heartfelt greetings, Rude briefly kissed Merche’s closed eyes.

Merche, lying on the bed, quickly fell asleep and began to make trivial breathing sounds like a young animal.

Rude stood for a long time, tensing his body, watching the sleeping Merche.

He shook his head as if irritated, and called one servant to stand before him.

“Fill the bath with water. Make it so cold that even a dead man would jump up in surprise.”

It would be even better if you float some ice. The servant summoned by Rude nodded in response to these picky instructions and ran off to prepare.

…Damn it. I’m dying with my blood drying up. The lewd aftermath that the noble young lady would never know about is solely his responsibility.

Rude, who had repeatedly rubbed his face with his hands, sighed and moved his steps towards the bathroom.

Rena Aquila entered the palace at the call of her lord.

The prince with a delicate appearance who had become her new lord was quite talented.

Just by looking at how he had taken over the largest palace after the king’s among the numerous buildings in the royal palace, one could see that the royal family also recognized him as a powerful next candidate for the throne.

When Rena finally set foot inside the huge palace after crossing the long, long corridor, she hesitated and stopped in her tracks.