What does that mean? Ophelia frowned.

“Why are you suddenly getting angry?”

“Suddenly, you say?”

While verbally asking in disbelief, Idren inwardly agreed with those words.

Ophelia might be right. All of this could have been sudden for her.

After all, he knew nothing of Ophelia’s circumstances.

Yet those uncomprehending eyes struck him so painfully that something welled up inside him.

I don’t want to hear anything about your circumstances. Such a childish and foolish feeling arose from somewhere.

I’m not curious about your story at all.

You never considered my circumstances either.

His vision blurred. Idren just hoped he wouldn’t cry. Crying here would be the height of disgrace.

That’s when Ophelia slapped his chest.

Surprised by the clear physical contact, Idren’s eyes widened. It didn’t hurt, but being hit by Ophelia for the first time was startling.

“Now…”

“Be thankful I didn’t hit your face.”

Those words carried the intent that she might slap his cheek too if pushed, making Idren flinch involuntarily.

That’s when Ophelia asked in a raised voice.

“What exactly is the problem?”

Problem? Is she now trying to find fault with me?

Idren frowned sharply at the inconsistent words. But before he could refute, Ophelia snapped in a high-pitched voice.

“I came all the way from Reden just for you! Simply because I wanted to marry you!”

Though it was a direct statement that couldn’t be misunderstood, strangely it was hard to believe.

Did Ophelia just say she wants to marry me? It was even harder to believe because it was exactly the opposite of the dream he had.

That’s when Ophelia muttered, seemingly unable to contain her anger.

“…And this is how you act?”

The cool informal speech sent chills down his spine.

Idren backed away slightly. Ophelia glared up at him.

“You ask why I was there?”

Then Ophelia jabbed his chest with her finger. She scolded him fiercely.

“Because of you! Because I didn’t want to hear you being cursed at!”

Because you keep doing foolish, foolish things. So…

Without finishing her words, Ophelia covered her face with both hands. She felt like sighing.

Meanwhile, her stupid husband just stood there blinking, not making any excuses – or perhaps unable to – as if that was enough.

Seems even he knows he has nothing to say. Ophelia twisted her lips.

She too could think.

The reason Idren killed Taaeran. The reason he recklessly cleaned up Edegrun. The reason he brought Siana into the castle. The reason he brought Dahel to Edegrun.

At first glance, the center of those seemingly erratic actions was one thing.

Herself.

Though she already knew this fact, thinking about it again made her rising anger subside somewhat.

Ophelia pulled on the man’s collar that she had been grasping.

He was as hard and heavy as a stone, so she was the one pulled instead.

Anyway, ending up with her cheek against his chest, Ophelia listened to the sound coming from within.

The heart she knew well was beating rapidly, as if it had been waiting only for this moment.

Ophelia chuckled at that naked affection.

“You still like me, don’t you?”

Idren paused at those words.

Ophelia realized her words had stabbed his heart. The pain lingering in his flinching body was vivid.

This shouldn’t be, but that pain felt oddly pleasant.

Because it meant her words were true after all.

Really, if I become strange, it’s all because of you.

Thinking that Idren would have cried out in injustice if he had heard, Ophelia murmured.

“I like you too.”

So now, we just need to get along well.

Then Ophelia carefully detached from him. It was to check his face, which must have turned bright red.

That’s when his sharp eyes began to moisten.

Idren blinked with a dazed expression. As if he wasn’t trying to cry, but was flustered that this was happening.

“W-wait…”

He pushed her away and began to back up.

Realizing he was trying to escape, Ophelia firmly grasped his clothes.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

And Ophelia dragged the man who had brought her to the bedroom all the way to the bed.

Placing him right beside the bed, Ophelia pushed him onto it.

Idren was quite flustered and didn’t even try to stand his ground, just sitting down.

Standing before the man who was supporting himself with both hands on the bed and looking up at her, Ophelia gazed down at him.

Though big in stature, he was trembling and looking up at her, unable to do anything – it was pitiful, frustrating, and pathetic, yet…

Lovable.

Thinking that far, Ophelia suddenly realized.

Ah, I really am in deep.

But if this is an illness, it might be good to just live with it.

Coming to that clean and simple conclusion, Ophelia reached for his cheek.

It seemed a bit shameless to suddenly switch to caressing after raising her hand just before, but it didn’t matter.

Stroking his handsome cheek that was worth touching, she asked.

“Do you remember what you said yesterday?”

“What…”

“What you said to me.”

Ophelia hadn’t forgotten the words Idren had spoken while crying pitifully yesterday.

Remembering the other’s tears was one of the virtues of being a good spouse.

Ophelia said to the man looking up at her with eyes that would be unique in all the world.

“You asked me to love you, didn’t you?”

And she spoke before he could waste the opportunity with unnecessary excuses.

“I love you.”

“What did you just…”

Despite finally confessing, Idren stammered with a pale face.

He always wanted to hear it, but now that she said it, he seemed scared.

Ophelia told the man once more, even his annoying behavior starting to seem cute – again, she really was in deep.

“I love you.”

Then Ophelia placed one knee between the man’s spread legs and leaned forward.

Idren inhaled sharply but didn’t retreat.

Tilting her head to kiss his tear-stained, wounded cheek, Ophelia thought.

Did you also feel this heartache and yearning?

Though he was cute and lovable, right now Idren looked most of all pitiful.

It was natural, with his face thinner than usual and constant hesitation.

And Ophelia knew why he was like this.

Until now, she had been a cold sea before him.

Ophelia knew how coldly she had treated this man.

And that such behavior would have severely wounded the pride of any person.

Yet despite that, he couldn’t give up on her.

And that she only started to notice him after gaining the leisure to look around.

She knew all of this was terribly selfish.

But what could be done? She was born this kind of person, and Idren loved her as she was.

Ophelia still didn’t know why he loved her, but she had no intention of losing that.

Because now she wanted to give and receive love from him.

Ophelia gently stroked his cheek again, which she had wanted to touch all along.

“I love you. I should have said it earlier.”

To the man who had finally thrown a spark into the cold sea, hoping all this wasn’t too late.

That’s when golden eyes began to shed tears.

Idren glared at her as he cried. No, it wasn’t glaring, but seemed that way because he was straining his eyes to hide his emotions.

Ophelia caught the man’s hands as he tried to roughly wipe his eyes, and wiped away the moisture for him instead.

Idren, who had been acting like a cornered wildcat all along, quietly accepted her touch.

As she wiped his tears and examined his features, Ophelia sighed.

“What happened to your face?”

Idren’s face was too haggard to be from just one day of illness.

Though still beautiful since his eyes, nose, and mouth hadn’t run away, it was a face that clearly showed he had been through hardship.

“If you don’t want to look, I…”

“Don’t say such spiteful things.”

And Ophelia kissed his cheek again. Idren quietly accepted it without further complaint.

Ophelia gently rubbed his slightly pale and rough, yet still beautifully shaped lips with her index finger.

She thought perhaps she could kiss them too.

But just as she was about to lower her head, Idren turned his face slightly.

“Th-the illness might spread.”

He seemed concerned about having a fever.

“I don’t mind.”

And Ophelia kissed him again.

When she lightly bit his lower lip, the man finally raised his hands to her face.

She wanted to laugh at his contradictory attitude of not pushing her away despite saying the illness might spread.

As she caressed his slightly rough cheek, Ophelia moved her hand to his round ear.

Whether from fever or embarrassment, his skin felt hot to the touch.

As black hair slipped through her fingers, her breath grew heated as if the warmth was transferring.

Feeling pity for his flushed face, Ophelia stroked his stubbly cheek once more. That’s when a hand came to rest on her stomach.

The hand gently rubbing around her navel slowly moved to her waist and then up her spine.

Though her clothes were quite thick, the hand found the dip in her back precisely, fumbled with the buttons, then carefully withdrew.

Around then, Ophelia paused as she traced his jawline, which had grown sharper than usual, feeling the gentle movement.

She thought he would read the mood on his own, but it seemed he needed verbal permission to feel at ease.