Deceived 46

Chapter 46

***

The sound of water echoing through the bathroom was clear. Steam carrying the scent of flowers rose near the ceiling, and the bathwater, clouded by dissolved perfume, held a warm glow. Blair watched the ripples form as she immersed herself in it. Ever since entering the bathroom, she had been lost in deep thought.

She couldn't believe she'd gotten married today, nor could she believe that, despite agreeing not to touch each other, their wedding night was imminent. But what felt most unreal was the Duchess's tirade she'd overheard after sneaking away from the reception.

The ugly words pouring out through that elegant voice, the curses hurled at Edmund, were deeply shocking. Even her father, the most terrifying and strict man in the world to Blair, had never used such language. And Edmund seemed like someone utterly accustomed to those vile insults.

"So accustomed you've grown numb to them. "

How much suffering must one endure to become numb to venomous curses like "Go to hell!" or "You should have died with your mother"?

She would have collapsed on the spot, yet Edmund remained utterly unshaken, as if he'd endured such situations hundreds of times before. That calm face was the most shocking thing of all.

Had Edmund truly become numb? Or was this perhaps the scar left behind after years of having one's spirit gnawed away? To endure and survive in Eldenvale, he must have cultivated the habit of making himself insensitive.

Blair could easily imagine the countless wounds hidden beneath that dry, emotionless demeanor. And her heart ached sharply.

She thought she understood why Edmund prioritized the contract. Why he had declared faith fickle, unlike hers. How lightly it must have sounded to ask someone like that, 

'Can I trust you?'

Blair sighed and slowly pulled her knees up to hug them. The maid, who had been gently wiping her shoulders with a soft sponge from behind, glanced at her complexion.

"Is the water temperature suitable?"

"...Ah, yes. It's fine."

Fragrant bathwater flowed over her scalp. Two rounds of soapy lather scrubbed her hair, and rosewater prepared in a basin drenched her body like a final embrace. The maid, who undoubtedly believed Blair was spending her wedding night, seemed genuinely intent on assisting with the bath.

Her lashes, laden with droplets, fluttered once. The agreement she had made with Edmund was, in essence, a secret shared only between them. Even after witnessing the Duchess's wickedness, Blair's desire to build trust with him remained unchanged. It didn't take long for the clouded look in her eyes to harden into resolve.

If trust was needed, why demand it from Edmund? She could give it herself. The most effective way to open the heart of someone armored in coldness was the steady seepage of warmth. It might not work in the Borsa social scene, but Blair still believed it was the only right way.

And a man like Edmund, more than anyone, needed trust.

‘When he returns to the bedroom, I must confess honestly.’

That Isabelle had summoned her the night before the wedding with a meaningful statement, that she had secretly followed him to the reception today, and had inadvertently overheard a confidential conversation. So she must offer a sincere apology.

She resolved this as she slipped on her bathrobe. Blair’s expression in the mirror revealed a surprisingly firm resolve.

***

Without hesitation, the sound of footsteps echoed steadily down the hallway. As he headed toward the marital bedroom, Edmund reflected on his final exchange with the Duke moments earlier.

“I refuse the observation ceremony.”

To try reviving that vulgar custom abolished a century ago? To cross the threshold and watch the couple copulate with their own eyes? He must be out of his mind. It was so revolting it made him want to vomit.

"You insolent fool! With your father gravely ill, upholding the Duke's lineage is paramount. How dare you defy me? Are you refusing to prove you are husband and wife?"

But Duke Liberte doubted his son's sincerity about consummating the marriage. That was precisely the problem.

"I will provide ample proof."

If even the Duke demanded proof, Edmund knew better than anyone that even if he got through today unscathed, he couldn't avoid it forever. He had to find an acceptable compromise.

"Have the priest and attendants stand in the hallway, not the bedroom. I believe proof will be sufficient without them needing to witness the consummation of our marriage."

"......"

"Would this be acceptable as a compromise?"

Duke Liberte, who had maintained his silence, nodded. Isabelle, seemingly dissatisfied, tried to add something, but since the Duke, the final decision-maker, had agreed, the conversation ended there. Now, how Blair would accept this was the beginning of another problem.

He considered sending her out as a bride for the sake of the title succession a good decision in many ways. She was a woman with whom there would be no emotional entanglement, no physical union.

Even the simple ceremony they held with her had been sufficiently explained within the family. To quell the scandal arising from the broken engagement, rushing the ceremony was advantageous and seen as a rational decision for the sake of an heir.

Yet he couldn't deny that increasingly troublesome matters were piling up.

"...What a mess."

A hollow laugh escaped Edmund's lips as he stepped into the hallway leading to the marital bedchamber. Before he knew it, a priest in snow-white vestments and seven attendants stood lined up before the bedroom door, their expressions solemn beyond measure.

How fast they were. The attendants, each wearing large hoods, were all young men, green as grass. Had they heard about the observation ceremony and rushed over like excited dogs? He tightened his grip on the reins, his cynical footsteps heavy.

Blair would already be in the bedroom. He had personally escorted her there. Should she count herself lucky not to see those shameless men lined up outside the bedroom? 

In any case, he had to inform Blair about the observation ceremony and get his story straight. Even though he'd succeeded in driving them out into the hallway, he still needed 'proof'. Blocking the observation ceremony was one thing, but proving it with sound was practically nothing.

Edmund stopped in front of the witnesses.

No big deal. Was it really no big deal? For that woman, so perfectly demure?

The priest and attendants stood facing forward with faces more solemn than ever. Edmund scanned each face before pulling the doorknob.

The woman was nowhere to be seen, likely still in the bathroom. Edmund stood there, pressing his weary brow, then rummaged in his trouser pocket for a cigarette and lighter. He took a cigarette, lit it carelessly, and walked to the window.

"Haa..."

He exhaled smoke and a sigh together into the dim landscape beyond the open window. Underestimating his father's obsession with succession had been his fatal mistake. He had assumed the path to inheriting the duke's title would be straightforward, since there was no other heir apparent. But that also meant his father's fixation would inevitably become his own burden.

"Edmund?"

It was then that a clear voice reached him from behind.

"...Weren't you supposed to be washing in the other bathroom?"

Blair, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, tilted her head in confusion. Her cheeks were flushed pink from her recent bath. She was puzzled that he had left the bedroom and returned still dressed the same.

Edmund glanced at the maid who had followed Blair out. She was busily draping a robe over Blair’s body, still clad only in a chemise.

“I was going to.”

“But…?”

“Something came up.”

Now it was Blair who fell silent. Edmund signaled to the maid with a glance.

"If you're done, you may leave."

"Yes, young master."

The young maid bowed hastily. Edmund gave one last look at Blair, still standing before the bathroom door, then stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette and strode purposefully over to fling open the bedroom door himself. He had deliberately opened it wide, clinging to a last shred of hope, but Blair didn't move a step. From her angle, the hallway remained completely hidden.

The maid slipped quietly out of the bedroom. The sound of her gasping in surprise at the sight of the men lined up beyond the doorway reached him, but Blair, standing far away, didn't even notice. For some reason, the gaze fixed on him seemed lost in complex thoughts, leaving her no spare attention for her surroundings.

Given the situation, there was nothing else to do. Edmund firmly bolted the bedroom door shut, ensuring no one could enter. Only then did he sense Blair's tension suddenly tighten.