Rias paused at the bedroom door, her hand resting on the handle.
At last, the ceremony was over.
The greetings, the formal smiles, the endless bows—all of it was finally behind her.
She had spent the entire day preparing for this moment, and now that she was here, she had no idea what to say.
The door clicked shut, cutting off the noise from the hallway.
Rafsan had already claimed the bed, lying across it like he had been defeated in battle.
“…Finally.” Rias gave him a blank look.
“What are you doing?” “I am mourning my freedom.” He turned his head enough to meet her eyes.
“Forty-seven signatures.
I counted.” “You actually counted them?” “I had plenty of time while dying inside.” “You’re unbelievable.” “Thank you.” “That wasn’t a compliment.” “I’ll take it anyway.” Rias sighed.
This was the same calm, unreadable person who had stood beside her during the ceremony, every bit the composed heir of the Barbatos family.
But here…
he looked like someone dragged through a battlefield.
Rafsan lifted his head from the pillow and glanced at her.
“You’ve been standing there for a while.” “I was thinking.” “About?” She hesitated.
“…How I should behave.” The teasing disappeared from his face.
“You don’t have to behave.” “What?” “You’re in your own room.” “Our room.” He smiled.
“Even better.” Her cheeks warmed.
“Don’t say it so casually.” “Why?” “Because…” She turned away.
“It’s embarrassing.” Rafsan pushed himself upright.
“Come here.” She hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed, keeping her back straight and her hands neatly in her lap.
“You’re still doing it.” “Doing what?” “Acting like you’re attending another ceremony.” Rias puffed her cheeks.
“I am a Gremory.
There are certain standards I must uphold.” “I know.” His voice softened.
“But you don’t have to uphold them with me.” His words caught her off guard.
She lowered her gaze.
“…You’re strange.” “I’ve been told.” “You act completely differently when we’re alone.” “Because I don’t like pretending.” “For someone who dislikes pretending, you’re surprisingly good at fooling everyone.” “Occupational hazard.” A small laugh escaped her.
Rafsan pointed.
“There.” She gave him a blank look.
“What?” “That.
Your laugh.” “You make it sound as though I never laugh.” “You don’t laugh like that in front of everyone.” “…Perhaps not.” For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Rafsan smiled.
“I like this version of you.” Her heart skipped.
“Rafsan…” “I’m serious.” The tension in her expression eased.
Rafsan shifted closer, stopping before their shoulders touched.
She caught the hesitation in his movement.
“Wh-what are you doing?” “Nothing.” “You’re getting closer.” “I am.” “Why?” He looked at her as if the answer should be obvious.
“You’re my wife.” Rias’s face turned bright red.
“You can’t simply say things like that!” “Why not?” “Because…” She fumbled for an answer.
“Because you say them without any hesitation!” Rafsan chuckled.
“Would you prefer I hesitate?” “No!” The reply came too quickly, and she froze.
He raised an eyebrow.
She turned her face away.
“I-I mean…” He smiled.
“I understand.” “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.” “I can’t help it.” She tapped his shoulder lightly.
He barely moved.
“You’re annoying.” “And you’re embarrassed.” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I am not!” Her voice climbed, and Rafsan laughed.
She folded her arms and turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
After a moment, his expression softened.
“You did well today.” She looked back at him.
“…Really?” “Yeah.” His tone was plain—no teasing, no joke.
“You handled everything.” The tension in her expression eased.
“There were moments when I thought I couldn’t.” “But you did.” Her gaze dropped to her clasped hands.
“…I was nervous.” “I know.” “I was afraid I’d make some mistake.” “You didn’t.” “And what if I had?” “I would’ve made fun of you.” She laughed then, the sound light and fond.
“You’re hopeless.” “Probably.” The stiffness finally left her shoulders.
Rafsan shifted a little closer but stopped before touching her; that small restraint made her smile.
After a moment, she leaned toward him.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Is that permission?” Her cheeks warmed again.
“Don’t make me regret it.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Rias rested her head against his shoulder.
For once, she didn’t have to be the heiress of House Gremory.
She could simply be Rias.
“…Rafsan?” “Hm?” “Stay like this for a while.” “Of course.” His answer came instantly.
Silence settled over the room.
Outside, the sound of the waves drifted through the open window.
For the first time that day, she let herself forget ceremonies, nobles, expectations, and the weight of her family name.
Tonight, she didn’t have to be the heiress.
She could simply be Rias.
It really helps the story reach more readers.