On Rational Marital Life - Chapter 39

Lewinda’s carriage passed through the main gate. Only then did the tension leave Layla’s shoulders.

“Ow, ow.”

As the tension eased, the pain that had been throbbing in her back surged like a wave. Her heart was still pounding. She had been anxious the whole time—what if things went wrong? What if Lewinda got angry upon realizing she had been deceived?

She had been surprised when Blake hit Jefferson, but in the end, things turned out well. Lewinda hadn’t uttered a single word of protest, which made it clear.

‘I’m sorry, Mother.’

Layla apologized to Lewinda in her heart. When she saw how Lewinda, startled by the thought that their family might suffer because of this incident, tried to appease Blake, she felt a strange emotion.

She felt guilty and sorry for deceiving her—but at the same time, she felt relieved. And then she felt guilty for feeling that way.

Her mother had always been infinitely kind to her younger sister, Lilia. She never once scolded her and bought her anything she wanted.

Thinking that Lilia, as the sister of a future queen, would always be compared to her, Lewinda pitied her. As a result, whenever Lilia wanted something that belonged to Layla, she was told to give it up for her younger sister. Even the birthday presents Layla received had to be willingly handed over.

In contrast, Layla was expected to set an example for others, as she was the future queen. She was strictly prohibited from any extravagance and was not allowed to dress lavishly. Her meals were even regulated to maintain her figure.

To Layla, her mother, Lewinda, was like an unchallengeable queen. Their father had left all household matters to Lewinda and did not interfere.

And yet, now, that same Lewinda had pleaded and clung to Blake.

She had always been such a terrifying person, but seeing her from the outside, she didn’t seem all that formidable.

A mix of discomfort, strange liberation, and exhilaration swirled inside Layla.

Did she have such a wicked side to her? Was that why her mother had been so strict with her?

With these complicated emotions, Layla returned to Jerry’s room. Blake was there as well. Both of them were sitting with sulky expressions. As soon as Layla entered, Jerry jumped up and ran to her.

“Are you okay? Your back must hurt a lot.”

“I’m fine.”

Mature as he was, Jerry was still a child. His small face was full of worry as he looked up at Layla. She hadn’t done much for him, yet his expression was filled with affection for her.

“Jerry, are you alright? Thanks to your help, everything went well. Thank you.”

“You did it for me, didn’t you? Thank you.”

“You’re my son; of course, I have to protect you.”

Layla patted Jerry’s head and then lifted her gaze.

“Thank you, Blake. Because you stepped in, everything worked out.”

Blake looked at Layla with a peculiar expression. But soon, as if shaking off his thoughts, he smirked mischievously like a rogue.

“The nobles of Gramers seem to have quite a few patriots among them. When I brought up the ceasefire and spoke as a delegate of Strover, they immediately backed down. I should have done this sooner.”

“War must never happen again. Both countries have already suffered too many sacrifices.”

“Let’s just say that’s the reason.”

Blake gave a slight nod, gesturing toward her with his chin.

“How’s your back?”

“I’m fine. Ah!”

Before she could even finish her answer, Blake’s large hand brushed over her back, landing precisely on the injured area. Though it didn’t hurt, Layla flinched in surprise.

The impact from shielding Jerry had been strong. Her body instinctively tensed up at the memory of it.

“As if you’re fine.”

Clicking his tongue, Blake grabbed Layla’s arm.

“When it hurts, just say it hurts. If you don’t, people will think you’re really fine and just give you more work. You have to take care of yourself.”

“This is nothing. You’ve seen real injuries in war. This isn’t even a wound.”

“I’m saying this because I know. If you’re unlucky, even a scratch from a nail can kill you. I’ve seen a man get hit in the back and end up paralyzed from the waist down. Turn around.”

It was unexpected.

Since he was a swordsman, she thought he wouldn’t take injuries so seriously.

Blake grabbed Layla’s arm, trying to turn her around and examine her back. However, her dress covered it.

Layla twisted her body away, avoiding his gaze.

“Blake, it doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Stubborn.”

“Ah!”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. In an instant, she was pressed against him.

Through the fabric, she felt his body heat and the strong scent of him.

Layla, who was barely half his size, was completely enveloped in his arms. His fingers slipped through the gap in her clothing, brushing against her skin as they spread the fabric apart.

A cool breeze touched her back. Blake lowered his head beside hers, peering inside her clothes to examine her injury.

Layla’s face turned bright red.

“B-Blake!”

“The bruising is severe. By tomorrow, it’ll be completely black and blue.”

He clicked his tongue near her ear. The wet sound made her ears burn.

Even though they were both fully clothed, she was held so tightly that she could almost hear his heartbeat.

The familiar scent of him made her dizzy, as if the ground beneath her feet was swaying.

Then, Jerry spoke hesitantly beside them.

“U-Um, I have some ointment.”

“It’s not bad enough for ointment. It’ll heal on its own.”

“Ugh!”

‘Jerry is right here!’

Yet Blake continued talking to Jerry as if nothing was unusual, all while keeping Layla in his arms.

She tried to push him away, but instead, he tightened his grip.

“L-Let me go! You’ve already seen my back.”

“No.”

“This is suffocating! Jerry is watching!”

“We’re married. Seeing us being affectionate is good for his education.”

Jerry awkwardly glanced around and then decided to excuse himself.

“I-I’ll go back to my room.”

“You—ugh!”

Layla lifted her heel and bit Blake’s ear.

On their first night, she had realized that no matter how hard she hit him, his body wouldn’t even budge. So, she went for a weaker spot.

“Mm.”

A low groan escaped him. His body stiffened even more.

Layla’s face turned scarlet.

She could feel Blake’s reaction—his body pressing against her lower abdomen, a solid presence that made her entire body heat up.

His voice rumbled as he muttered,

“This is a bad time.”

“H-How could you even think that in broad daylight…?”

“You were the one who seduced me first.”

“Ugh!”

“Ah!”

Layla stomped hard on Blake’s foot.

Though it was only a mild pain, he exaggerated his reaction, pretending to be hurt as he finally released her.

With her face flushed up to her neck, Layla bolted out of the room.

“I’m going to check the storage!”

“…That means she wants me to follow, doesn’t it?”

There was no real reason for her to announce her destination otherwise.

Jerry looked up at Blake in silence, as if wondering if he really believed that.

Layla, being diligent as always, had simply spoken out of habit. But Blake had conveniently interpreted it in a way that suited him.

Blake then asked casually,

“Did you get hit a lot on your calves?”

“This kind of injury is nothing.”

It didn’t matter whether the child was his by blood or not.

Blake, too, had spent his childhood running along the seashore, catching fish, digging for clams, fighting with village kids, and sometimes even getting beaten up by delinquents.

After his parents’ sudden death, he had seen firsthand how children like Jerry, who grew up in rough conditions, survived.

Neither of them were particularly bothered by a few beatings from adults.

“How are you getting along?”

“…Not bad.”

“Then that’s enough.”

Jerry’s expression as he answered wasn’t bad.

He didn’t chatter needlessly, but when asked, he gave a response.

Blake looked down at the small head before him. Shadows cast over his eyes.

“He’s my son, of course I have to protect him.”

Layla’s voice echoed in his mind, along with the image of her expression.

The soft curve of her lips, the gentle smile in her eyes—it was like the warm sunshine of a spring day.

A face full of kindness and tenderness, radiating sincere affection. She truly looked like a mother.

‘Even though she killed her own child.’

A cold wind sliced through his heart.

She was kind to the child she had adopted, yet she had been ruthless to the one she had carried herself.

Was this warmth just a mask? Or would she one day hate the child so much that she would choose to die with him?

A bitter smirk tugged at Blake’s lips as he turned to leave the room.

“Where are you going?”

“My wife is seducing me. I should follow her.”

His words were lighthearted, but his face was as cold and grim as a mercenary heading off to kill someone.

Jerry, sensing something unsettling, quickly spoke up.

“She’s a good person.”

“She’s my lovely wife.”

“Please be good to her.”

“Aren’t I already treating her well?”

Blake replied with a nonchalant smile, but Jerry didn’t respond.

Instead, he simply stared at him, as if he could see right through him.

The moment Blake stepped out of the room, his smile vanished.

* * *

“Damn it, that barbarian bastard! Ouch, ouch.”

Jefferson stomped his foot while pressing a wet towel against his chin. But the vibration made the pain in his jaw even worse, so he quickly stopped.

He had no idea how he managed to get home after being thrown out by Lewinda. He had been so terrified that someone might chase after him that he had rushed back, trembling. It wasn’t until nightfall that he finally calmed down.

Looking in the mirror, his face was a mess.

After taking a punch from Blake, several of his teeth had been knocked out, and the inside of his mouth was torn. Then, Lewinda had slapped him multiple times, making his face swell up like a yeast-filled loaf of bread.

“Would a war really start over something like this? Reporting it to the royal family would only lead to my ruin. It’s not like they’d give me any wealth, so to hell with the family—I hope it collapses!”

Jefferson threw on his coat and pulled some banknotes from the drawer, stuffing them into his pocket.

The sun had set, but the nearby pub would still be open at this hour.

“I’ll spread the word about what a filthy and dangerous bastard he is! I’ll tell everyone that he holds depraved orgies every night, stripping down servant girls and partying with his mercenary lackeys. And that criminal woman? I’ll say she’s in on it, doing unspeakable things with that barbarian. I’ll make sure they can never show their faces in public again!”

Imagining himself spreading these rumors at the pub, he opened the door—only to find a guest standing there.

The man was well-dressed, but his massive, muscular body strained against his buttons as if they might burst at any moment. He had a cloth draped over his face, with only holes cut out for his eyes.

“W-Who are you?”

“Divine punishment! You have sinned, now receive your judgment!”

The voice had the awkward accent of a foreigner.

Before Jefferson could react, the man swiftly punched him in the face and then bolted.

He had been hit in the same spot again.

“Argh! Wh-What the hell?!”

That night, he never made it to the pub.

After that, similar incidents started happening once or twice a week. Sometimes on the street, sometimes while he was sleeping at home.

One time, the attacker scolded him as he hit him, saying, “Ugh, now I can’t even train properly because of this!”

Another time, the attack came with a solemn warning: “The Lord is always watching you.”

Terrified of when the next beating would come, Jefferson fled the capital in the dead of night.