Prologue
The strange wedding came to an end.
Ahan and Yeoreul became husband and wife.
Ahan had told her to come to his room.
With anxious uncertainty knotting in her chest, Yeoreul knocked softly before opening the door. Guided only by the dim light inside, she stepped into the bedroom.
“Are you there?”
Settling onto the edge of the bed, Ahan asked quietly.
Drawn by his steady gaze, Yeoreul walked over.
Sitting at the foot of the bed, Ahan effortlessly pulled her into the space between his legs.
His hand slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, and her underwear was slowly lowered. Startled, Yeoreul instinctively caught his wrist.
She lifted her eyes to meet his face.
He held her gaze without wavering.
There was something strangely captivating about him—a uniquely masculine air that was both decadent and refined. His features were sharp, cold, and strikingly deep.
“Relax.”
His voice was calm and unhurried.
“Sit comfortably.”
His expression remained perfectly composed, as though everything unfolding before them had been decided long ago.
They had gone through the wedding ceremony, so spending their first night together like any other married couple seemed, to him, only natural.
That was what made it so strange.
This was a political marriage—a union without love.
Why, then…?
Even as confusion spread across Yeoreul’s face, Ahan showed no sign of hesitation. He simply continued what he had started.
“I won’t hurt you.”
Wrapping an arm gently around her waist from behind, Ahan lowered his head and captured the lips that trembled with uneven breaths.
Time lost its meaning.
Whenever it seemed they had reached the end, another beginning followed.
As though he knew nothing of stopping, Ahan continued to hold her close.
It was almost unnatural.
No matter how many times he embraced her, it was as if he were trying desperately to fill an emptiness that refused to disappear.
At first, Yeoreul had known only pain.
Gradually, however, her body began to grow accustomed to his.
With effort, she forced her eyes open.
Through her blurred vision, she saw the pleasure reflected in Ahan’s eyes.
His slightly parted lips and unfamiliar expression made him seem like an entirely different person.
How many women had he been with before?
Ahan exhaled a slow, heated breath.
The practiced ease of his movements suggested a familiarity that had settled into his very body. Even if the number were beyond counting, she felt she would not have been surprised.
Unlike his tireless motions, his eyes remained quiet and composed.
Watching them, Yeoreul felt excitement rise within her, only to be followed by an inexplicable sadness.
And yet…
She was happy.
At least he was capable of wanting her.
The thought crossed her mind, absurd as it was.
This was the bond they had formed as husband and wife.
What would it have been like…
…if it had been a bond formed as lovers instead?
Yeoreul kissed Ahan once more.
Their lips met, and their breaths mingled.
Every so often, his kiss softened, as though quietly checking on her, carrying a tenderness that made them feel, if only for a moment, like two people deeply in love.
She would sink into melancholy over the uncertainty of their relationship.
Then, as though those feelings had never existed, her heart would once again be swept away by the excitement he stirred within her.
At the end of a sweltering summer, drenched in sweat, the two of them lost themselves in each other as the night carried on.
