Standard Contract Guidelines for a Fraudulent Marriage - Chapter 50

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 50

Adelia’s quickening words came to an abrupt halt. In their place, ragged breathing filled the silence.

“Adelia, I’m truly sorry. Whatever misunderstanding today caused you to think… yes, I see it now. But my relationship with Claria isn’t what you imagine it to be. Not at all.”
“But…”
“Claria doesn’t care for me. Do you understand?”

Adelia’s brow furrowed as if she hadn’t heard him correctly.

Loarston loosened his grip on her wrist slightly, then shifted his fingers to encircle the back of her hand instead.

“What she wants is to subdue me. To hold me in the palm of her hand. She speaks of loving me, but I know better—it isn’t love. I have no intention of surrendering to her, nor of spending my life as a shadow catering to her whims. I won’t…”

Loarston’s words faltered.

Adelia’s eyebrows rose slightly.

She couldn’t begin to guess what he’d been about to say.

But Loarston was equally at a loss.

He was flustered. His eyes drifted silently, adrift.

The words rose to the very edge of his lips: that he wanted to be with her, if it were possible.

Even though he couldn’t explain why he harbored such a thought.

Even though he couldn’t articulate what drew him to want to be beside her…

Only the desire to keep her near consumed his mind entirely.

‘Don’t be selfish.’

Loarston steadied himself and exhaled a troubled sigh.

Adelia spoke.

“What were you… about to say?”
“Ah…”

Loarston looked at her, then at the ceiling, then turned his gaze away entirely, managing an awkward smile.

“Nothing. Just what I said. I’m neither Claria’s plaything nor her puppet. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”

When Adelia nodded in acceptance, Loarston felt relieved.

He was glad she hadn’t sensed what he’d truly meant to say.

He didn’t want to trouble her further tonight. He didn’t want to shock her.

“Why does she behave that way?”
“Hmm?”

With a dejected expression, Adelia swung her legs gently beneath the chair.

“If you love someone… if you care for them that deeply… you should treasure them. I don’t understand why she acts so selfishly.”

Loarston let out a soft, derisive laugh.

“Don’t try to understand her.”
“I’m the sort of person who wants to understand everything.”
“Science students always are.”
“Humanities students are just the same. Especially those who study linguistics or philosophy.”

At Adelia’s petulant rebuttal, Loarston couldn’t help but smile ruefully.

Only after he made a gesture of surrender did her expression brighten.

Watching her smile like that—so easy, so unguarded—struck him as impossibly endearing, and he felt ashamed of himself.

She always smiled at him like this, without any ulterior motive, while he… what had he been doing all day?

“Today’s incident…”
“…”
“It was all my fault. I’m sorry.”

Adelia lowered her gaze for a moment, then shook her head.

She’d been hurt, yes, but his apology made her happy.

She couldn’t know his every thought, but he’d cast aside his pride entirely and bowed to her. That alone was enough.

“Since you’ve apologized, it’s alright now.”
“Will you let me make it up to you?”

Adelia’s eyes widened as she stared at him.

“Alright.”

Loarston smiled and leaned down.

His lips touched her damp cheek gently.

“Thank you. Rest now.”

As he began to straighten, Adelia unexpectedly caught the edge of his sleeve.

Loarston looked down at her in surprise.

“Why?”
“That just now…”
“…?”
“Do it again, please.”

Embarrassed by her own boldness, Adelia quickly turned her head away.

A faint flush crept across Loarston’s features. Do what again? But he understood.

He turned slowly to face her directly.

Cradling her small cheek in his large hand, he pressed his lips to hers—this time, deliberately and slowly.

The moment he felt that softness, a thundering rose in his chest.

He felt he couldn’t control his own body, as though it were moving beyond his will.

He held the kiss for quite some time before drawing back very slowly.

Adelia opened her eyes in surprise, her cheeks flushed crimson as she touched them with the back of her hand.

“…I asked for my cheek. Isn’t this a breach of contract?”

Loarston parted his lips.

Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, words tumbled out unbidden.

“We kiss all the time.”
“But this was my cheek, or… somewhere like that.”
“Cheek or lips—there’s no difference.”
“Is that so?”
“That’s how it is.”

Adelia appeared to consider this, nodding slowly with her lips slightly pursed.

“Well then, sleep well.”
“…Yes. Sleep well too.”

Loarston watched as Adelia lay down in bed and switched off the lamp before carefully stepping out of the room.

The moment the door closed behind him, his face flushed crimson and his heart raced wildly.

Cheek or lips—no difference?

What a shameless thing to say.

His chest thundered—half from guilt, half from an excitement that had yet to subside.

He touched his lips where they’d met hers and found them burning.

“Ah…”

A sigh escaped Loarston as his legs gave out beneath him.

He knew how ridiculous he must look, crumpling to the floor like this, but he couldn’t find the strength to stand.

On the other side of the door, Adelia was in much the same state.

What had possessed her to say something so bold?

And why had he agreed to it so readily?

“Ah…”

The same sigh escaped, drifting down and down beyond the single door that separated them.

***

The next morning.

“He… went to the Royal Palace?”

When she heard that Loarston had left for the Royal Palace early that morning, Adelia abandoned her hair-brushing and spun around abruptly.

Liliet, startled by the sudden movement, quickly withdrew her hands so as not to drop the brush.

“My lady. Why are you so alarmed?”
“Do you know why he went?”
“According to Rudolf, he went to have an audience with His Majesty.”

An audience with the King?

Adelia felt a creeping sense of dread wash over her.

What if he hadn’t gone to meet the King, but had been summoned? What if he had no choice?

But if it were true…

Or even if it weren’t, the King—who doted on his daughter—surely would have been displeased.

‘Oh no… what if he ends up in prison? What am I supposed to do…?’

As Adelia spiraled into fantasies of conjugal visits in a cell, Liliet mercifully intervened.

“Don’t worry, my lady. It’s surely nothing serious.”
“How could you possibly know that, Liliet?”
“The previous Duke of Insel was an intimate friend of His Majesty. The King regards my lord as a son. He wouldn’t lose his temper over a mere trifle.”

A mere trifle? Pushing the King’s precious daughter in front of everyone at a party?

Was that a trifle, or was it not?

“Do you know when he’ll return?”
“I’m not certain, my lady. But since he left just before you woke, I’d expect him back around lunchtime.”

Lunchtime? Adelia felt the ground tilt beneath her feet.

That was ages away. She had grave doubts about her ability to remain calm until then.

“Oh, and my lord did say this: not to worry too much, and that you’re welcome to go to the Research Room.”
“The Research Room—I do need to go. I should go…”

Adelia’s brow creased as she fidgeted with her fingers in thought.

“Liliet, when he returns, could you send someone to find me in the Research Room? Just to let me know he’s back?”
“Of course, my lady. I’ll arrange it at once.”

Liliet’s assurance helped somewhat, though anxiety continued to gnaw at the corners of Adelia’s mind.

What if the angry King demands he marry Claria at once to take responsibility?

‘No, no, that won’t happen. Adelia Whitten, get a grip!’

Adelia shook her head vigorously at herself.

“By the way, my lady…”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“Have you and my lord decided to use separate surnames?”
“Separate surnames…? Oh…”
“It’s not just me wondering. Many people are curious about when you’ll formally become the Duchess of Insel, since you’ve retained the Whitten name.”
“Ah, well… I’ll discuss it with him.”
“You should. Though separate surnames for spouses is becoming fashionable these days, the Insel house is an ancient and distinguished lineage.”

Adelia nodded.

The word “distinguished” pressed down upon her stomach like a stone.

It sounded simple enough—merely changing a surname—but Adelia Whitten and Adelia Insel felt somehow…

‘…like different people.’

That was the thought that struck her.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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