Blair bit her lip, reflexively suppressing a moan.
In truth, she had no desire to be held by him. He might well be the very person who had killed her, and the weight of the letter on the table made it impossible to push him away. If she didn’t offer her body, he would surely turn his attention back to those papers.
Blair surrendered to his touch, gazing blankly at the sunset light bleeding across the balcony.
Headrin suddenly turned her to face him. He pressed his lips against hers, his voice low and direct.
“What are you thinking about so deeply?”
His eyes, unnervingly deep and close enough to touch, seemed to scour the inside of her mind.
After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke.
“About Sir Caligo.”
The moment the name left her lips, Headrin’s gaze turned frigid. He was piqued that the name of another man escaped the lips he had just tasted—especially in a moment like this.
Blair, seemingly oblivious to his shift in mood, continued, “Is he one of your trusted subordinates?”
“He is a man with whom I have walked the edge of life and death.”
Headrin replied dismissively, swallowing her lips again. Realizing he had no intention of continuing the conversation, she went quiet, yielding her body to him.
Even though he had obtained what he wanted, her compliance chafed. Her attitude—devoid of emotion, as if she were merely nursing a crying child—galled him.
Yet, he was a man ruled by his instincts; he had no heart to reject the temptation.
Headrin lifted her slender, pale body and carried her toward the bed. Her clothes fell away in layers as they moved. Once he laid her down, he held her with a hunger that defied his usual patience.
“Ah….”
Blair’s body remained stiff, unable to fully relax. Her thin arms wrapped around his back, and even as she gasped for breath, finding his intensity overwhelming, she responded in her own clumsy way.
That gesture, and the eyes that held only him, were devastatingly beautiful.
Headrin covered her mouth with his, sharing his breath as she panted—though in the end, it only resulted in him stealing hers away.
Before long, the room was filled with the evening glow and their ragged breathing. The sudden chime of the grandfather clock shattered the quiet.
*Ding— Dong—*
Five in the afternoon.
Dazed, Blair snapped back to reality and shoved against his chest. Headrin did not stop; he had no reason to.
Blair struggled, her voice desperate.
“The… the medicine. It’s time for my medicine.”
“……Medicine? Ah.”
Blair took her contraceptive at this hour every day. She was often too exhausted to remember it after he tormented her until dawn, and her daily schedule kept her occupied. The night was even more difficult, as once they began, she rarely retained her senses until the early hours.
She had settled on this ambiguous hour to ensure she wouldn’t forget.
“If I don’t take it now, I might….”
Blair reached for the nightstand, where the medicine bottle sat. Seeing this, Headrin’s eyes turned icy. He hated that desperate, reaching hand.
Was the only thing in her head the success of this contract marriage? Did she not consider any other possibility, not even for a second?
Even while she was tangled with him, did she really have the capacity for such calculations?
*When I have made you this crazy for me.*
The fact that there was room in her mind for thoughts other than himself annoyed him immensely.
“You seem to have the leisure to think of other things.”
The moment her hand touched the bottle, Headrin moved.
“Ah!”
The impact caused her to sway, and the bottle clattered to the floor. Headrin forced her gaze back to his and whispered,
“You don’t need to take it for just one day.”
“N-no, I can’t.”
Her face turned deathly pale. That look triggered a sadistic urge within him, fueling his irritation. He silenced her lips with his own, rendering resistance impossible.
Blair swallowed a cry, but Headrin would not let it pass. He growled, his voice scraping against his throat.
“Make a sound.”
Driven by his persistence, she finally gasped, losing the battle she had never been equipped to win.
Headrin pulled her deeper into his embrace. She was warm and soft, smelling sweet and tasting sweeter still. Burying himself in her arms—a swamp from which he could not escape—everything else blurred into insignificance.
Yet, despite his fulfillment, he felt an agonizing anxiety that she might vanish, like grains of sand slipping through a fist. That was why he tormented her with such intensity; the more she wept and reacted to him, the more he felt the reality that she truly belonged to him.
When their breath finally broke, Headrin restrained his heat, waiting for her trembling to cease before slowly withdrawing.
As her ragged breathing steadied, focus returned to her hazy eyes. Her tear-filled gaze was sharp with resentment.
She pushed against his chest as he tried to hold her again. Even though her strength should have been negligible, he unexpectedly stepped back.
Blair sat up to retrieve the bottle from the carpet, but her legs gave out and she slumped back down.
As if nothing else mattered, she swallowed the pills, even dry-swallowing the ones she usually struggled to take without water. A sigh of relief escaped her.
She must not conceive. There was a high probability the child would not be Aziel’s.
*Aziel….*
Aziel was her driving force. If she could not meet that lovely child again, this second life she had gained like a miracle would be worthless.
The thought that she had nearly jeopardized that child because of him made her blood run cold.
Headrin, who had watched her slump on the carpet, lifted her up. She did not shake him off, but the resentment in her eyes was unmistakable.
Headrin sighed.
“If by any chance you do conceive, I will take responsibility, so—”
“……No, that won’t happen.”
Her voice trembled, but once she composed herself, her tone was unwavering.
“We will divorce. As per the contract.”
* * *
After his bath, Headrin entered the bedroom with a tray of simple breakfast provided by a maid.
Blair lay with her back to him. Her small frame looked even more fragile buried in the duvet. She was pretending to sleep, but Headrin wasn’t dull enough to be fooled.
He gazed at her with cold, dark eyes.
She had been like this since last night. She would yield her body when he held her, but that was all. She didn’t resist, but he knew. He knew she was merely enduring, waiting for the night to end. It was the only resistance she had left.
He placed the tray on the nightstand and reached for her, but she slipped out of his arms.
“……I’ll eat in a while.”
“Why?”
“My stomach is upset. I want to rest.”
Headrin’s lips twisted. Now, a hunger strike.
He set the tray directly in front of her. Her brow furrowed in annoyance.
“I don’t want to eat—”
Headrin cupped her cheek and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted the sweetness of the strawberry from the pancake, passing it between their joined lips.
Startled, Blair swallowed the fruit before she realized what had happened. Headrin pulled away, wiping the juice from her lips with his thumb.
Her eyes were wide with surprise, already beginning to fill with fresh resentment. He found even that look beautiful—a testament to how she was cursed with such a damnably pretty face.
Headrin placed a fork in her hand.
“Eat. Before I feed you the whole thing.”
It was phrased as a suggestion, but the threat was clear. She knew he didn’t mean it in any ordinary sense.
Blair looked between the food and the man, then dropped the fork.
A suffocating silence filled the room. She looked him straight in the eye.
“……I hate it.”
“…….”
“I really, truly hate you…….”
The emotions she had been suppressing poured out at last. Her eyes were brimming, yet she refused to shed a single tear. Her hands, gripping the duvet white-knuckled, trembled violently.
Headrin stared at her with icy blue eyes, then turned and left the room.