ETCHY 00

Prologue 00

Never go up to the third floor after the sun sets.

This was an unwritten rule for the employees of the Grand Duke Peter’s household, who ruled over the winter city of Ewald. Even during night patrols, this was no exception.

There was one reason.

The third floor housed the bedchamber of the Grand Duke and Duchess. But no one knew why that should be grounds for a ban on entry.

“Ugh, it’s cold…”

A maid who had lost her way in the vast mansion looked around with a troubled expression. On one side of the pitch-black corridor, the lamp she carried flickered like a firefly.

The one walking through the grand mansion’s hallway with a glowing lamp was a new maid who had just entered the Peter household.

The Grand Duke’s mansion was so quiet that one could almost hear the sound of snow falling. Because the winter days were short, darkness had already settled deep within the mansion, even though not much time had passed since dinner.

Creak, creak…

The maid, who had been carefully surveying her surroundings, held her breath at an unidentified sound. A faint noise was coming from somewhere.

It sounded like a rocking chair scraping against the floor, or perhaps furniture squeaking.

Creak, creak, squeak. Creak.

The sound, coming at regular intervals, was more than strange—it was eerie.

“Eek!”

The maid, who had been heading toward the direction of the sound, suddenly turned pale and changed course. Then, as if she had heard nothing, she hurried toward the stairs.

If anyone found out she had come up here, she would be dismissed without even a letter of recommendation. Being let go right after being hired was even more terrifying than a midnight ghost story.

So the maid wanted to get away from the third floor as quickly as possible. The lamp in her hand clattered along with her hurried steps.

Along with the sound of the rattling lamp, the maid’s presence gradually faded away.

Even after she left the corridor, the sound of creak, creak continued to echo on the third floor.

A persistent and tenacious sound.

When the swaying bed stopped, the sweltering heat that had filled the bedchamber gave way to a chilly atmosphere.

Unaware that she had just provided fodder for the maid’s ghost stories, Crescentia got out of bed. She draped the robe from the headboard over her bare body and moved her trembling legs.

“Are you trying to run away?”

Crescentia, who had been walking toward the door, paused at the deep voice that came from behind. It was a heavy, resonant voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Stay the night.”

Turning her head, Crescentia’s gaze fell upon the man lying on his side, his body wrapped in sheets.

Through his sweat-dampened black hair, golden eyes gleamed vividly.

Erich von Peter, the Grand Duke—said to be the most beautiful man in the Artur Empire. A powerful figure second in line to the throne, coveted by all, and the guardian of imperial reform.

And Crescentia’s husband.

“The night is long, isn’t it?”

Erich, speaking slowly as if savoring the afterglow of pleasure, sat up. The sheet covering his body slid down, revealing broad shoulders, a firm chest, and well-defined abdominal muscles.

The thick muscles of his upper body, which had been pressing down on Crescentia just moments ago, slowly relaxed.

“The bed hasn’t even cooled yet.”

The man’s golden eyes, as if tempting her, glinted like those of a predator stalking its prey. But Crescentia merely gazed at her husband with an expressionless face.

“Disappointed?”

At the quiet question, Erich raised an eyebrow. His face was a masterpiece of sculptural beauty, formed of bold lines. It was indeed a countenance worthy of the empire’s praise.

But to Crescentia, his wife, this perfect man was a being more dreadful and repulsive than any monster.

Just being in the same space as Erich was a torment to her. The fact that he desired her only made her skin crawl.

“If you’re really that disappointed, take another woman. What about Lady Philippina? I’m sure she’d come running to you right now.”

“…What?”

Erich’s composed expression cracked at Crescentia’s suggestion. She stared fixedly at her husband and continued.

“We agreed to do it once a day during my fertile period. I’m done, but if you’re not, you should finish with another woman. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“But I do.”

“…”

“I don’t want another woman. I want you.”

“Your acting skills are as good as ever. You almost sound like you really love me.”

At her muttered words, spoken as if tossed aside, Erich’s lips pressed tightly together. Crescentia let out a wry laugh at the man’s firmly closed, full lips.

“Don’t worry. I know it’s all an act.”

As if I would ever be deluded.

Erich von Peter does not love his wife. Crescentia knew this very well.

Her husband had made it clear just how ridiculous it was to speak of love in a marriage shackled with clauses upon clauses of contractual stipulations.

“Let’s stop here for today. Keep it brief—that’s your motto, isn’t it?”

Crescentia glared at Erich and clutched the collar of her robe. Once a day. Spreading her legs for him was more than enough.

There was a time when she had longed for intimacy with Erich. But over the two years since their marriage, Crescentia had changed.

Thanks to Erich.

For taking her roughly, for ignoring her pleas, for disregarding her gaze—it was all thanks to him.

Thanks to him, Crescentia had awakened from her naive and innocent illusions about marriage.

Crescentia, princess of Regina, had been taught from childhood that a married couple are companions who walk through life together. The royal tutors had said that even if the marriage was one of political convenience, they must respect and honor each other.

But the husband she had met after crossing the wide sea of Carola was colder than the ocean depths. As if he had never seduced her. As if, now that the wedding was over, there was no further need.

Crescentia was devastated by her husband’s sudden change in attitude after their marriage. She threw away her pride as a princess and yearned for him, desperate for even a single glance from him.

What was so good about this trash of a man?

Trash.

Yes, he was trash.

Erich had personally turned Crescentia’s life into hell, and then refused to grant her a divorce, trapping her with no way out.

“Tia, you…”

Erich, who had fallen silent for a long while at a loss for words, opened his mouth heavily. At the pet name that suddenly pierced her eardrums, Crescentia’s eyes flew wide open.

Tia?

“Don’t call me that.”

Crescentia ground out the words. Her voice trembled with deep-seated anger.

“Who is Tia?”

At Crescentia’s rejection-filled statement, Erich’s face hardened.

The Tia who had once yearned for his affection was no more. The pitiable, naive princess had withered away under Erich’s indifference and coldness. What remained was only Crescentia, who loathed him.

“Drop the clumsy seduction. Even the whores at the tavern would be better than you.”

Crescentia spoke in a voice colder than the dawn air. Even when compared to a prostitute—the lowest of the low—the empire’s Grand Duke did not get angry.

Well, of course he wouldn’t. If he were human, if he had any conscience at all.

“Come back to bed? Because the bed hasn’t cooled? Do you know what I’ve endured all that disgusting business for? So I can spread my legs for you again?”

Pregnancy.

Solely to become pregnant. To bear the heir of the Peter house.

For that single purpose, she endured this torture-like ordeal today as well. The marital bed with Erich held no meaning beyond that for Crescentia.

“…The delicately raised princess has certainly learned to speak quite sharply.”

Despite the barrage of accusations, Erich only smiled bitterly. Crescentia’s shoulders flinched momentarily as she desperately faced him.

But Erich, not noticing her reaction, brushed back his sweat-dampened hair and spoke with self-deprecation.

“I’ll do as Her Highness the Princess wishes. I need only sow my seed in you like a stud horse, but I dared to be greedy beyond that—so of course you’d be angry.”

Erich wrapped the sheet loosely around his waist and got out of bed. The large man’s feet pressed heavily into the rug.

“I should have seen my wife off quietly and looked forward to tomorrow night. Shouldn’t I?”

As he strode closer, the man’s shadow engulfed Crescentia. He trapped her between the door and his body, smiling bitterly.

“How shall I hold you tomorrow? Just tell me, my lady. I’ll do whatever you wish.”

The man’s large hand pressed firmly against Crescentia’s flat belly. Erich spoke slowly to his pale-faced wife.

“Shall I thrust deep enough to reach right here? You don’t need to say it—I can tell from your reactions. Every time I hit this spot, you always…”

*SMACK!*

A sharp slapping sound spread through the room, and Erich’s face turned to the side. Crescentia clutched her stinging, burning hand and gritted her teeth.

“You are the worst. I regret ever having loved you, even for a moment.”

“So you’re trying to leave me?”

Erich, who had been stroking his cheek where Crescentia’s hand had landed, spoke bitterly.

“So that’s it. You’re going to bear my child and then leave me, is that it?”

Erich, speaking with sorrow and resentment, grasped the hand that had struck his cheek. Despite his earnest touch, Crescentia was unwavering, looking at Erich with eyes full of contempt.

With the very same gaze he had looked at her with, two years ago, when they had first been bound together.