My Vengeful Former Lover - Chapter 23

Chapter 23

She was flustered by his sudden request.

“Lucy?”

“Didn’t you use to call me that sometimes?”

Of course, she did. She had used that name whenever she wanted to tease him because she liked it when he felt bothered by being called with a girly nickname. It was just that, she had only called him like that for only a small number of times.

“I liked it, you know? When you called me ‘Lucy’.” He said as he rubbed her ankles with a handkerchief filled with ice cubes. “It’s unique from my usual nickname, Luce. Other than that, most people would just call me either using my real or my formal name.”

Deatrice was puzzled.

Was he asking to be called that only in public or was he really asking for her to call him like that in the future?

As she narrowed her gaze and tried to read his true intentions, he grinned and re-positioned her ankle. She groaned and grabbed his shoulders with the sound of her bones snapping back in place. He pulled down his cuffs.

A few drops of water fell on the ground from his fingertips.

Lucius grabbed her hand and kissed her cheek, then he straightened his spine and slowly backed away.

“Lucy…”

She suddenly remembered what she said to him when she used that nickname.

“I want to get married in spring, just like how my mom got married in our greenhouse at that time. Could you… do that for me?”

Six years have passed, and a lot has changed but that wish of hers remained. And today, it came true. This time of the year was spring, and their wedding was held exactly in the Louisen’s family’s greenhouse.

Originally, their marriage was supposed to be held in the groom’s mansion, but Lucius suggested that the wedding be held in theirs instead as the renovations on his property would take a long time and probably wouldn’t be ready any time soon. He had just recently obtained it, after all.

However, Deatrice wondered if he had remembered her request that time, or if everything was simply a coincidence.

“Don’t overthink it.” She muttered to herself.

He wouldn’t do that.

By this time, she naturally knew that his doting actions towards her were all just for show. His true feelings towards her would most probably resemble the bitter cold of the winter and the scathing heat of the desert.

But even though they’ve been pretending for a while now, sometimes, she couldn’t help but feel confused.

Does he really not have a single drop of affection for her?

Seeing Lucius’ profile from afar, talking to someone, she murmured an answer to her own thoughts.

“Maybe… there’s a little bit left?” But even she could recognize that her own voice was laced with hesitation and uncertainty.

Whenever he acted so sweetly towards her, it would sometimes overlap with the image of him from six years ago. And the reactions she would have from his touch… like him casually grabbing her and kissing her on the cheek or forehead, she would feel the strange trembling of her lips.

I don’t know if it’s because I still have feelings for him, or if it’s simply because I can’t interact with him without remembering the beautiful memories of our past that would inescapably fill me with regret…

She quietly stared at his back.

The party lasted from evening until past midnight, but Deatrice withdrew at around nine o’clock and the few that remained there had many rounds of drinking. To enjoy the night or to forget their own woes, Deatrice didn’t know and she had no inclination to do so.

After bathing in perfumed water, a couple of maids massaged her body with special oils to squeeze out the tension in her muscles. After experiencing comfort and relief, Deatrice’s body turned sluggish, and she surrendered herself to the hands of the skilled maids.

But after wiping her body with a towel, the thin slip the maids brought in made her realize why they had painstakingly kneaded every fiber of her body until it turned into a soft persimmon.

That’s right.

When you get married, you have to spend your first night together with your new spouse.

The tension that the servants wrung out of her with much difficulty, quickly returned to her and caused her back to stiffen.

She didn’t know why she was just realizing all of this just now. She shouldn’t be all that surprised, considering she was the one who had decorated the room they would use tonight. Perhaps, it was because she was too stressed about other matters that she had no energy to spare for this one.

If her husband had been a man Deatrice didn’t have a complicated past with, she would have endured. But knowing that it was Lucius made the situation even harder for her.

He would take her clothes off, and then do… whatever he’s been taught to do…

The path leading to their room was long.

Or perhaps it had only felt long because she was walking as slowly as she could. Deatrice opened her cloak slightly to feel cool night air against her skin.

Rosaline opened her mouth, unable to handle seeing the endlessly slowing pace of her mistress.

“Don’t worry, miss. Sir Elliot is a tender person.”

But her words didn’t help at all. Because she knew that those who called him that were ignorant of the harshness behind his charming facade.

One wouldn’t even be able to call him friendly if they knew how aggressive he could be.

There’s also the fact that he had survived a brutal war…