A Barbaric Proposal Chapter 85

※Wedding Night (2)※

[Liene] "But I... I haven't... washed up yet."

Her words came in fits and starts, interrupted by the nervous lump in her throat she kept trying to swallow.

Behind her, his fingers were steady as he worked, undoing the intricate pearl fastenings of her gown one by one.

[Black] "It’s fine. You’ll only end up having to wash again later anyway."

[Liene] "Still, I mean... I’ve been outside all day."

[Black] "The skirts are so thick, I doubt a single speck of dust managed to find your skin."

He unraveled two more knots, then leaned in, grazing the tip of his nose against her newly exposed nape.

[Black] "Besides, you smell wonderful. Don't worry about it."

[Liene] "I highly doubt that."

She was certain he was lying. Or was he?

Plagued by a sudden doubt, Liene tilted her head and took a tentative sniff of his wrist.

[Liene] "Oh...?"

A faint, crisp scent of soap clung to him.

[Black] "I washed a short while ago."

That explained it. He was still in his wedding finery, but he’d discarded his cravat, and the top buttons of his shirt were already undone.

[Liene] "That’s not fair. When did you find the time?"

[Black] "Call it desperation. I didn't want to waste a single second more than necessary."

Snap. Click. 

The remaining silk loops gave way beneath his touch.

[Liene] "Ah, wait. Just a moment."

He was moving far too fast. Sensing the cool air hitting her bare back, Liene shifted her feet, trying to find a way to slow him down.

[Liene] "It’s just, um..."

[Black] "Just what?"

[Liene] "I think... I need a moment to prepare myself. Mentally."

[Black] "..."

He took a sharp, shallow breath and immediately held up both hands in a gesture of surrender.

[Black] "If that’s what you need."

[Liene] "Whew..."

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding, her shoulders slumping with relief.

[Liene] "It’s just... I’m still... No, I mean... this is all new to me, and I..."

[Black] "I understand. If you need time to prepare, take it."

[Liene] "Thank you. So, for now, let's just—"

She was about to suggest that she go to the washroom.

[Black] "Let’s start by taking off my clothes first."

[Liene] "What? No! How does that follow?"

[Black] "I’ve been mentally prepared for this for a very long time."

He reached out, guiding her hand until her fingers rested against the fastenings of his shirt.

[Black] "You can go as fast as you like. If the knots are too much trouble, you can rip them off."

[Liene] "I will do no such thing..."

[Black] "Don't want to? Then I’ll do it."

If he were to ask her if she didn't want to see him undressed, there was only one honest answer.

[Liene] "It’s... It’s not that I don't want to."

[Black] "Then do it for me."

[Liene] "..."

I’ve probably played this night out in my head a hundred times. 

Why was the reality of it so much more difficult?

[Liene] "It’s... too bright in here."

She finally settled on an excuse that felt safe.

[Liene] "It’s barely even night yet... and there might still be people lingering outside... and I’m not ready to just start undressing when it’s so... Anyway, it just feels wrong."

The atmosphere wasn't right. Black was ready, but she was still catching her breath. It felt as though she were still standing in the middle of the ceremony.

[Black] "I see."

Fortunately, he was quick. He always seemed to read her heart before she even found the words.

[Black] "I’ll start by putting out the lights."

He didn't move toward the candles immediately, however. Instead, his hand drifted up, cupping her jaw and tilting her face to the perfect angle.

[Liene] "I thought you said... the lights..."

The rest of her sentence was swallowed by his lips.

It was a kiss far softer and slower than any before it, yet it burned with a heat that eclipsed them all. Her lips were slick and sensitized, but her throat felt parched.

By the time she regained her senses, her sleeves had slipped down her shoulders, and her arms were wound tightly around his neck.

[Black] "I feel like I’ve been hit by an arrow all over again."

He whispered the words against her damp lips.

[Liene] "Why...?"

[Black] "This fever... this feeling of losing my mind... It’s exactly like it was back then."

[Liene] "Oh..."

[Black] "If I hadn't been shot that day, I might have managed to remain a perfect gentleman until now."

Black didn't break contact, pulling her along with him as they moved. Before she knew it, they were standing before the first candelabra mounted on the wall.

He pulled back just an inch.

Whoosh.

The first flame died. There were five candelabras in the room.

Usually, they only lit one or two, but tonight, in honor of the wedding night, every single one was ablaze.

Which meant they had four more stops to make.

[Black] "What is it?"

[Liene] "Nothing. I was thinking... you’re doing an excellent job of pretending to be a gentleman."

[Black] "You think I wouldn't have kissed you like this otherwise?"

[Black] "I assumed it would take a very long time before you could tolerate me."

[Liene] "Well..."

Wasn't it the same for me? 

She had never imagined a day would come when she could love this man so completely.

[Black] "So, I suppose I should be grateful for that arrow. However..."

He nipped at her lower lip, a soft, grazing pressure that made her toes curl, before leading her toward the second candelabra.

[Black] "I don't think it would have mattered in the end. I wouldn't have been able to wait, even if I’d tried."

[Liene] "Why not?"

[Black] "Just look at me. You’ll see why."

Whoosh.

The second flame went out.

In the deepening shadows, Black took her hand and placed it back on his shirt.

[Black] "Undo it."

She never realized how suggestive a simple request could sound.

Liene swallowed hard, her fingers beginning to move.

Darkness was a powerful ally; the more the room faded into shadow, the sweeter his kisses became, and the more uninhibited he grew.

Tug. Pull.

The shirt came undone with surprising speed this time. Her hands were trembling, but the darkness hid her nerves. The garment slid from his shoulders, pooling at his feet.

[Black] "Good girl."

His chest was bare now, and he held her face tenderly, peppering her skin with lingering kisses.

Whoosh.

The third flame died.

They moved toward the next light, their breaths mingling in a frantic, desperate rhythm.

By the time the fifth and final candle flickered out, there was no clothing left to speak of.

Black swept Liene up into his arms and carried her toward the bed.

---

Liene didn't manage to open her eyes until well past noon the following day.

[Liene] "..."

It was a surreal sensation.

The room was bathed in the red glow of a setting sun. On either side of the bed, Madam Flambard and Madam Henton sat in chairs like two sentinels guarding a precious relic.

A nearby table was cluttered with water pitchers, towels, and various light snacks, making her feel like a patient who had been suffering from a long, grueling illness.

[Liene] "Madams...? What’s going on?"

[Flambard] "Ah, Your Highness. You’re finally awake?"

[Liene] "Yes. Am I sick? Why are you both keeping watch?"

[Henton] "You are indeed 'sick.' Stay right where you are. First, have some water. Your voice is completely hoarse."

[Liene] "It... it is?"

Now that it was pointed out, her throat did feel rather raw.

Why does my throat hurt? Did I catch a cold?

Madam Henton silently poured a glass of water and held it out. Liene reached for it without thinking, but to her horror, her fingertips were shaking uncontrollably.

[Liene] "Wait, why is this happening?"

[Flambard] "Good heavens, Your Highness!"

Madam Flambard lunged forward, catching Liene’s hand and gently lowering it. As if they’d rehearsed the move, Madam Henton brought the glass directly to Liene’s lips.

[Henton] "Drink."

[Liene] "I can do it myself, Madam."

[Henton] "Nonsense. You’ll only end up breaking a perfectly good glass. Just drink."

[Liene] "But..."

The two women looked so resolute that Liene gave in, gulping down the water. It stung as it went down.

[Flambard] "It’s clear you won't be making it to the bathroom. I’ll wet some towels; you’ll have to wash here in bed."

Without missing a beat, Madam Flambard dunked a cloth into a basin and wrung it out. She looked ready to scrub Liene’s face herself.

[Liene] "Madams, please. What is this sudden fuss?"

[Henton] "She is right. Don't even think about getting up. Just stay put."

[Liene] "It’s just a sore throat. The water helped. I’m fine, really. You can put the towel away."

Liene tried to push Madam Flambard’s hand aside.

But something was very wrong. Her arms felt like lead. The woman she thought she could easily nudge stayed firmly in place.

[Flambard] "Stop it, Your Highness. I told you to stay still. I imagine even a slight twitch of your waist is painful right now."

[Liene] "It’s not. I’m just groggy because I slept too late. Please, move. I want to get up."

[Henton] "Just lie back."

Madam Henton chimed in, but Liene—still not grasping the situation—threw back the covers herself.

As she tried to haul herself upright, tears suddenly pricked her eyes.

[Liene] "Ugh...!"

She collapsed back onto the pillows instantly.

A wave of soreness crashed over her as if she’d been trampled by a horse.

Her lower back was the worst, but her thighs and hips felt as though they were one giant bruise. Her limbs were trembling with exhaustion.

Sitting up felt like an impossible feat, let alone walking.

Liene looked at them, her expression crumbling into a pout.

[Liene] "What’s wrong with me?"

[Flambard] "You survived your wedding night, Your Highness. A very... thorough wedding night."

[Liene] "What...?"

As the realization hit, her face turned a shade of red that rivaled a ripe apple.

Oh. Right.

The wedding was yesterday, and last night...

[Liene] "Is it... I mean... is it normally... like this?"

She’d heard the first time could be painful. But she hadn't realized "painful" meant her entire body failing her.

[Flambard] "No. I’ve had a wedding night of my own, and I can assure you, I’ve never seen a bride in your state."

Madam Henton nodded vigorously in agreement.

[Henton] "Never. Not once."

[Liene] "Is it just me? Am I unusually fragile?"

Is it because I waited so long? No... people said it hurts more if you're younger.

And besides... that part doesn't even hurt that much. It’s my back. And my thighs. And my calves.

[Flambard] "Fragile? Hardly."

[Liene] "Maybe I overexerted myself during the wedding preparations..."

As Liene tilted her head, trying to find a logical excuse, Madam Flambard’s face went stone-cold serious.

[Flambard] "This is not your fault, Your Highness."

[Liene] "It’s not? Then whose is it?"

[Flambard] "Your husband’s, obviously."

[Liene] "Pardon?"

If Madam Flambard was blunt, Madam Henton was a surgical strike.

[Henton] "It means you two had a very spirited celebration. Even for a grueling wedding night, I have never seen a bride unable to even open her eyes for half a day, groaning in her sleep. Good heavens, the scandal."

[Liene] "..."

If she hadn't added "the scandal," Liene’s cheeks might have been slightly less scorched.

It was spirited... yes, but... how do the Madams know all this?

[Liene] "It could just be a cold. The ceremony was so long..."

Madam Flambard remained unyielding.

[Flambard] "We helped with the preparations, too, and we aren't bedridden. You were the first one to go to sleep, after all! My, my. The stamina of that man."

Why must she say things like 'My, my'?

[Flambard] "Regardless, you won't be walking for a while, so just rest. Are you hungry?"

[Liene] "I... I think I am."

[Flambard] "I should think so. Mercy, the appetite you must have worked up."

[Henton] "I’ll go fetch some warm food."

Madam Henton rose to her feet. Even as she walked out the door, she whispered a "My, my" under her breath.

[Liene] "...Could you please stop saying 'My, my' and 'Mercy'?"

Liene mumbled the request from beneath the safety of her duvet.

[Flambard] "I can’t help it! Honestly. The sheer... well. My goodness. To think."

[Liene] "Madam..."

Perhaps sensing that Liene was about to spontaneously combust under the covers, Madam Flambard waved a hand dismissively.

[Flambard] "Fine, fine. I’ll stop. It’s just that you look so happy, Your Highness, that I can’t help acting like a silly old gossip."

[Liene] "How can I look happy when I can't even stand up because of the pain?"

[Flambard] "Oh, it’s a happy pain. I guarantee you, no bride who has been as thoroughly loved as you—"

[Liene] "Madam! Please!"

Liene finally couldn't take it anymore and yanked the covers down.

She was already overheated from the feverish blush, and the Madam’s teasing was making the bed feel like an oven.

[Flambard] "Get well soon, Your Highness. Though I’m not sure 'well' is the right word in this case."

The woman’s face softened with genuine affection as she smoothed Liene’s hair.

[Flambard] "If you had seen how frantic your husband was this morning when you wouldn't wake up, you’d understand why I’m like this. Lord Tiwakan is currently pining away in a state of absolute dejection. Madam Henton and I gave him a proper scolding for being so reckless with you."

[Liene] "Oh... so that’s why he isn't here?"

[Flambard] "I told him to stay away. I told him the Princess needs her rest."

Liene let out a tiny, soft laugh.

[Liene] "It’s a bit funny, picturing him looking 'dejected.' You were terrified of him when we first met."

[Flambard] "Well, if he weren't your husband, I’d likely still be shaking in my boots."

Having finished with her hair, the Madam patted the back of Liene’s hand.

[Flambard] "When you were with Sir Kleinfelter, I thought no one in the world could cherish you more than I did. But now... I think I might have been wrong."

Warmth flooded Liene’s chest, far more soothing than the water had been.

She’s right. I am happy.

[Liene] "If you say so, then it must be true."

[Flambard] "It is. I suspect that man would hunt down a polar bear with his bare hands if he thought it would make you feel better."

The image was so plausible that it made Liene slightly dizzy.

[Liene] "Maybe we shouldn't tell him that. He might actually do it."

[Flambard] "He wouldn't just try; he’d actually bring it back. Come to think of it... Good heavens. My, my."

[Liene] "Madam! Enough!"

Madam Henton returned with the food, and hearing the tail end of the conversation, she added another chorus of "My, my," much to Liene’s embarrassment.

However, after eating her fill, she began to feel much better.

By the time the moon rose, she found she could finally manage a few steps on her own.

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