I Refuse This Life, Your Highness!

Only two people had the right to enter the bridal chamber: myself and the Grand Duke. Startled, I rose to my feet.

“The Grand Duke wouldn’t come to the bridal chamber. He didn’t show up last time!”

I couldn’t believe the situation, and I turned my head so quickly that my veil fluttered out of place. But sure enough, there he was—Grand Duke of Isser, dressed in ceremonial attire that marked him as my husband, his face also veiled.

“Did you see a ghost?”

“…”

I was thinking the same thing—wasn’t he the ghost here?

But asking, “What brings you here?” would be ridiculous. He had every right to be here, after all. He was neither late nor improperly dressed.

Standing there now, he was the perfect image of my husband.

“Sit down, Grand Duchess.”

“…Ah.”

I hesitated briefly at the title but slowly sat down, pulling the chair closer.

The Grand Duke poured wine into two thick glasses, diluting each with a touch of water.

“Do you prefer your wine strong?”

He asked as he handed me a glass. I didn’t have a particular preference, but I missed the chance to reply and quietly accepted the drink. The Grand Duke raised his glass slightly in a silent toast before downing it in one go.

I followed suit, emptying my glass quickly. A crimson droplet clung to the rim before pooling at the bottom.

And just like that, the first shared drink of our marriage passed without incident.

An awkward silence settled between us. Hidden behind our veils, we could barely see each other. The Grand Duke rested his chin on his hand, staring at me.

The silence grew unbearable. I had to say something. Anything. My mouth moved before my thoughts could catch up.

“Please grant me a divorce, Your Grace.”

“…”

The Grand Duke seemed to falter slightly, his posture shifting as if caught off guard. Realizing what I had blurted out, I bit my tongue in regret. I had planned to lay the groundwork over the next two years, persuading him slowly, step by step. Instead, I had impulsively asked for a divorce on our wedding night. Even if he accused me of treason, I’d have no defense.

“Not exactly the most romantic thing to hear on the first night of marriage.”

Romantic? That word sounded utterly foreign coming from his mouth. Of all the people I knew, the Grand Duke was the least suited to words like romantic or sentimental.

Well… maybe it was different with Reia.

“May I ask why?”

“I believe… there is someone more suited to Your Grace than I am.”

“It was His Majesty who chose you to be my bride.”

“That may be true, but…”

Hadn’t he already brought along someone who was a better match?

The Grand Duke poured himself another glass, this time without adding water. The sharp scent of wine filled the air.

“A divorce, huh?”

With a firm motion, he set the glass down on the table, the sound resonating in the room.

“It’s not impossible.”

“…Truly?”

I couldn’t hide the suspicion in my eyes as I looked at him.

“Yes. But on one condition.”

“Yes, of course.”

A condition seemed far more plausible—and convincing—than him agreeing outright. I was willing to meet any condition within my abilities. Nodding eagerly, I fixed my gaze on him, waiting.

For a moment, I thought I saw the faintest smile curve his lips beneath the veil.

Was it just my imagination? I tilted my head in confusion, but then his next words struck like a bolt from the blue.

“For the next three months, you will share my bed.”

What?

Frozen in shock, I blurted out, a beat too late:

“Excuse me?!”

“Why is that surprising? It’s perfectly natural for a married couple to share a bed.”

“I—well, it’s just—”

Had the Grand Duke lost his mind?

Was this some strange side effect of time rewinding? Otherwise, why on earth would he say something like that to me?

“With me?”

“Who else? The Emperor?”

“Disgusting.”

“I agree.”

His dry humor sent a shiver down my spine, and I rubbed my arms instinctively. The Grand Duke himself looked uncomfortable with his own joke. Regardless of his looks or other attributes, the Emperor had always unsettled me. It seemed the Grand Duke felt similarly, though for obvious reasons.

But still…

Sharing a bed? The word could only mean one thing.

The Grand Duke and me? Together?

Was that even allowed? Even if we were married…

What if a child were to result? No, I—no, that was absolutely unthinkable.

“Strange,” he said suddenly.

“Excuse me?!”

“Even through the veil, your thoughts are written all over your face.”

“…”

An awkward silence stretched between us, but eventually, I was the first to speak.

“Your Grace…”

I only called out to him because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. The Grand Duke finally responded.

“I mean it literally. All I’m asking is that we share a bed and sleep.”

“…Why?”

Why on earth was this necessary?

“As I said before, isn’t it perfectly natural for a married couple to share a bed?”

“It’s not strange, but…”

You didn’t do this before. Not on our first night or any night after. And we aren’t exactly a normal couple.

As confusion swirled within me, the Grand Duke poured himself another glass of wine. This time, he filled the glass to the brim and drained it in one gulp. Without pause, he poured and drank another.

“I’ll take that as agreement. Now, Grand Duchess,” he said, his tone calm yet commanding, “would you remove your husband’s veil?”

“…”

I was at a loss for words. I hadn’t agreed to anything! What had he just said?

Has the Grand Duke truly gone mad?

No, perhaps it was me who had lost my mind. Was my brain interpreting the situation wrong? Surely, this couldn’t actually be happening.

“Hurry now. The night won’t wait forever.”

“Your Grace,” I called out, my voice tinged with frustration. He merely tilted his head slightly, as if to ask what the problem was.

Resigned, I rose from my seat. The sensation of the silk floor beneath my feet felt entirely different than when I had entered alone earlier. My hands, trembling ever so slightly, reached for his veil.

“There’s no need to be nervous, Grand Duchess.”

Easy for you to say. If you were in my shoes, you’d be trembling too. Not only had I gone through this wedding a second time, but the man who had been the bane of my past life was now standing before me, casually calling himself my husband and asking me to lift his veil.

Fine. Let’s get this over with.

Taking hold of the veil with both hands, I swept it back in one swift motion. The Grand Duke blinked for a moment, then slowly opened his eyes.

“…”

Seeing his face for the first time up close, I was momentarily stunned.

So this is what he looks like.

I had never truly seen his face before—not like this. His smooth forehead, sharp nose, firm lips, piercing eyes, and sculpted cheekbones were undeniable proof of his beauty. The rumors describing him as a man of unparalleled looks were no exaggeration.

My hands fell away as I fully removed the veil. The motion caused his short, neatly trimmed hair—befitting a soldier—to sway slightly.

His expression, however, was unreadable, his face utterly devoid of emotion.

The tone of his earlier words, almost playful, seemed at odds with the stoic man standing before me. I stared at him in silence, unsure of what to make of the moment.

Then, he stood.

As the towering Grand Duke rose to his full height, I instinctively shrank back. Lamia grew slowly, continuing to develop even after their twenties. At twenty, I was still small and delicate, practically childlike in stature.

The Grand Duke, however, was imposing—a giant even among knights. Next to him, I felt like a cicada clinging to the trunk of a massive tree.

His hand moved toward me slowly.

Oddly, his movements seemed careful, almost as if he were being considerate. Perhaps at this stage in our relationship, such formalities were still to be expected.

Gradually, my view cleared as he lifted my veil. The Grand Duke’s handsome features became even sharper, his eyes locking onto mine.

“…”

He laid the veil aside, but not before gazing at me the way I had just gazed at him—studying me in silence. His stare lingered uncomfortably long.

“Your Grace?”

Unable to endure the tension, I broke the silence. He snapped out of his daze, clutching my veil tightly. Though it seemed he was about to set it down on the table, he kept it in his grasp.

The Grand Duke refilled his glass and drank deeply once more.

Is he that thirsty?

When he tilted the pitcher for a second pour, the wine ran out halfway, leaving his glass only half-full.

The Grand Duke took a sip from his half-filled glass, seemingly unfazed. Surely, he wasn’t some secret alcoholic, was he?

In my past life, not only had he skipped our wedding night, but we had rarely shared a meal together. I wouldn’t know.

“Shall I call for more wine?”

“No need.”

He declined curtly, his golden eyes glancing briefly in my direction.

In the dim candlelight, his eyes caught the light, their golden hue taking on a strange, almost otherworldly brilliance.

For a moment, I found myself lost in those eyes, unable to look away. The Grand Duke didn’t avert his gaze either.

What felt like an eternity passed before he finally spoke.

“I’ll come to your room later.”

It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the earlier conversation about sharing a bed. My face instantly flushed red.

Raising a brow at my reaction, the Grand Duke turned sharply and strode toward the door.

I thought he was leaving, and relief washed over me. But instead, he opened the door and called out into the hallway.

“Bring more wine.”

Didn’t he just refuse when I asked earlier?

A short while later, he returned, carrying another pitcher himself rather than letting a servant enter the room.

“Would you like some?”

“…Yes.”

When the Grand Duke moved to dilute my wine with water, I shook my head. I wasn’t particularly weak to alcohol, and while the wine was strong, I couldn’t bear to face this situation entirely sober.

The two of us shared several more drinks, quickly draining the wine. Despite the tension and confusion, I remained maddeningly sober.

“Should I ask for another bottle?”

“Only if you want it. I’ve had enough…”

“Y-Your Grace!”

“What is it?”

What is it?! The Grand Duke had suddenly started undressing!

Unperturbed, he removed the intricate ceremonial attire, swapping it for the simple bedclothes hanging near the bed.

From the moment he began loosening his collar, I had turned my head away. My heart pounded wildly, as though I’d just witnessed something I absolutely shouldn’t have seen.

A few moments later, now dressed in lighter robes, he approached me with heavy, deliberate steps. My hands trembled with tension.

“Your Grace…”

As I instinctively stepped back, expressing faint resistance, he spoke calmly.

“You can’t remove that dress on your own. Let me help.”