[LUCIELLE’S POV—NIGHT—ASHCROFT MANOR]
The room was silent, too silent for a straight man like me.
The fireplace crackled softly in the corner, casting warm golden light across the chamber. The curtains were drawn. The candles had been dimmed.
Everything was peaceful, beautiful, and even; it was a perfect night for a grand duchess to crawl into bed, pull the blankets over her head, and enjoy some much-needed sleep.
Except...there was one tiny problem.
My husband was sitting on my bed.
I stood near the doorway while Cassian sat comfortably against the headboard, already dressed for sleep, one arm resting casually against the pillow as if this had been his bed for the last twenty years.
He looked completely at ease.
I WAS NOT.
Not even remotely. I stared at him from the middle of the room, trying to process the absurd situation I had somehow dug myself into.
One month ago, I had been Minato.
A man, a perfectly ordinary man who had never once imagined that one day he’d wake up as a grand duchess and have to negotiate sleeping arrangements with his own husband.
And now here I was. Standing in my own chamber, staring at my husband. Who was sitting on my bed. This was becoming a serious threat to both my male dignity and my newly acquired female dignity.
I took a deep breath. "Sir..."
Cassian’s eyebrow lifted.
"Sir?"
I immediately regretted everything. I cleared my throat. "Do you know that a man and a woman shouldn’t share the same bed?"
Cassian stared at me for a moment, then the corner of his mouth slowly lifted. "My beloved..."
Oh, no, that seductive tone.
"Why are you being so formal with your own husband?"
I remained standing because sitting beside him was clearly a tactical mistake. Cassian continued, completely calm.
"And, yes, I am very much aware of what happens when a man and a woman share the same chamber and the same bed."
I swallowed as my brain screamed.
DON’T SAY IT.
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with amusement.
"It creates a—"
"SCANDAL."
The word escaped my mouth before I could stop it.
Silence, an absolute silence.
Cassian stared at me. I stared back. Then he chuckled, a low, calm, almost dangerously sexy laugh. His voice dropped into that smooth, husky tone that should honestly have been classified as a weapon.
"Beloved...scandals don’t happen between married couples."
. . .
. . .
This damn man.
I knew it. I knew all men were animals (he forgot he is a man too).
But this one? This one had apparently been promoted to apex predator. I coughed awkwardly and immediately looked away.
"No matter." I marched toward the couch. "I’ll sleep here."
I kicked off my slippers and sat down.
There, problem solved, simple, elegant, and dignified. I would sleep on the couch. Cassian could have the bed. My dignity would remain intact; my spine might not, but at least my dignity would survive.
Then Cassian asked calmly, "And for how many days, my beloved?"
I blinked. I looked over my shoulder. "Until the day you’re in my chamber."
Silence.
Cassian stared at me. I stared back, then his lips slowly curved upward. That was the smile of a man who had just discovered something extremely entertaining.
I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you smiling?"
"Long days?"
I frowned. "What?"
"You said you’ll sleep on the couch until the day I’m no longer in your chamber."
"Yes."
He nodded thoughtfully. "I see."
I waited as he continued smiling, and that’s when my stomach sank as realization struck me. "Don’t."
"Don’t what?"
"Don’t make that face, and you’re not allowed in this chamber for numerous days."
He looked innocent. "I assure you, my beloved, I’m doing nothing."
I knew that was a lie, a terrible lie; then he leaned back against the headboard, and his smile widened.
"Beloved...I intend to stay here for forever."
. . .
. . .
. . .
WHAT?
My jaw dropped as though he’d just announced that he planned to have tea tomorrow; my brain went completely blank and just like that, ladies and gentlemen—
I realized I was about to lose both my male dignity and my female dignity at the same time.
What an achievement, truly a remarkable accomplishment. I had somehow managed to destroy the dignity of both genders simultaneously.
Cassian seemed completely pleased with himself. "And my beloved isn’t going to sleep on the couch for the rest of her life, is she? That would give you terrible back pain."
I stared at him.
. . .
He was concerned about my back. How thoughtful, how considerate. How—SHAMELESS.
I trembled, this man, this terrifying, handsome, shameless villain of a husband. He wasn’t a villain merely because he could kill people.
No.
That was ordinary villain behavior; he was a villain because he seemed to enjoy watching people suffer.
Especially me.
I could already imagine my future. If I slept on that couch every night, I would eventually wake up looking like a wrinkled cucumber.
A very unhappy wrinkled cucumber.
And Cassian? He would be sleeping comfortably on the bed every night, probably looking annoyingly handsome while I slowly developed the spine of a ninety-year-old grandmother.
I glared at him; he smiled, and that smile was becoming suspicious.
Then, completely casually, he asked,
"Now... my beloved, will you get into bed by yourself, or shall I carry you there and tuck you in myself?"
. . .
. . .
My jaw dropped.
CARRY ME?!
Above my head, I swear I saw a tiny white wolf suddenly appear. It jumped onto my hair. It was holding a tiny red warning flag.
The flag waved furiously.
WARNING! WARNING! THE MAN IS ABOUT TO INITIATE WIFE-CARRY MODE!
My survival instincts activated, immediately and without dignity, without hesitation and without even pretending to negotiate. I slid off the couch.
"I’m going."
Cassian blinked. "So quickly?"
"Yes."
I marched toward the bed. "I suddenly remembered that I enjoy having a functioning spine."
His shoulders shook with quiet laughter. I ignored him and climbed onto the bed, pulled the blanket over myself, and wrapped myself into the tightest possible bundle.
One roll, two rolls, three rolls...perfect.
Sushi mode activated.
I tucked the blanket firmly around my body, with no gaps, no openings, and no weaknesses. I had constructed a complete defensive barrier. If necessary, I would spend the entire night like this.
I peeked out from beneath the blanket. Cassian was watching me with a huge smile, a deeply amused, ridiculously handsome smile.
"Sleep tight, my beloved."
. . .
Damn this man. Why did his voice have to sound like that? Why was it so deep? So calm? So ridiculously seductive? And why the hell was I noticing?! My woman’s instinct is waking up.
I immediately hid my face beneath the blanket.
No.
Absolutely not, this was a dangerous line of thought. I was Minato.
A man.
A man who had somehow ended up in a woman’s body with a handsome husband who apparently specialized in destroying my mental stability. I was NOT going to start analyzing his voice.
That was how people fell into romantic traps.
I preferred being alive. I slowly lifted my head. Cassian was still watching me. "Stop staring."
"Why?"
"Because you’re making me uncomfortable."
He smiled. "I was only looking at my wife."
"That’s exactly the problem."
He chuckled.
I grabbed a pillow, then another and then another. I placed the pillows between us, and Cassian watched silently.
I admired my work, a magnificent wall. A glorious fortress, a pillow-based border between me and danger.
I pointed at it. "This is the border."
"Between husband and wife?"
"Exactly."
He stared at the pillows, then at me and then back at the pillows. A slow smile appeared.
"Very well."
I narrowed my eyes. "You’re not allowed to cross it."
"I won’t."
"You promise?"
"Yes."
I relaxed, finally... a peace. A reasonable agreement and a civilized marriage. I climbed beneath the blanket again, pulled it up to my chin, and closed my eyes.
And began pretending to sleep.
***
[CASSIAN’S POV — CONTINUATION]
Silence.
Only the soft crackling of the fireplace filled the chamber. I should have been asleep. Instead, I was staring at my wife.
Lucielle was sleeping peacefully beside me, curled beneath the blanket like she’d finally escaped whatever disaster she had imagined I was about to cause.
Yet even in sleep, her brows were slightly furrowed. I reached over and gently smoothed the crease between them with my thumb.
"Stop worrying."
She stirred. "Mm..."
I chuckled softly; a moment ago, she had been arguing with me as though I had personally offended every ancestor in her family.
Now? She was asleep, peaceful, quiet, and almost innocent.
I watched her for several seconds, then she moved; her leg slipped out from beneath the blanket. I pulled the blanket back over her; she kicked it off again.
I tried once more.
She kicked it away with even greater determination.
I stared at her.
"Are you fighting the blanket in your sleep?"
She shifted again, her legs sprawled across the bed, and one of them crossed straight over the pillow barrier she had built between us.
Then the other followed; the magnificent fortress she had constructed earlier had been breached by its own creator, and, somehow, she had managed to occupy almost my entire side of the bed.
I looked at the pillows, then at Lucielle. "So much for the border."
I almost laughed. I reached for the blanket again and carefully tucked it around her shoulders. This time, she didn’t resist; her lips parted slightly as she breathed, her long hair spread across the pillow.
. . .
She was beautiful, not the kind of beauty that belonged in paintings or court portraits. This was different; there was no deliberate expression, no elegant posture, no carefully arranged hair, and no awareness of anyone watching.
This was simply Lucielle. Sleeping and unprotected. Completely unaware of me. My gaze lingered over her face.
"So... beautiful."
The words escaped before I could stop them. I had thought it countless times, but saying it felt different.
My wife had changed.
I had noticed it from the moment she began behaving differently, from the way she spoke to the way she looked at me, but tonight...she seemed somehow even more precious.
I reached for her hand, my fingers closed gently around hers, warm and soft. She didn’t pull away as a strange satisfaction settled inside me.
Earlier, she had built a wall between us, and yet now...she was sleeping with her hand in mine. My gaze lowered to our joined fingers, and a faint smile touched my lips.
"You broke your own rules, my beloved."
I moved closer, only a little, then a little more. Until there was barely any space between us. She didn’t wake. I watched her quietly; there was something deeply calming about having her here.
My wife.
In my arms’ reach, beside me, exactly where I wanted her.
I WANT HER.
Not merely her presence, not merely her trust. I wanted her to look at me without hesitation. I wanted her to reach for me first. I wanted her to stop running away whenever I came closer. I wanted her to willingly choose me.
And that was the one thing I would not take from her, because Lucielle was mine, but she had to choose to be mine.
I lowered my gaze to her sleeping face. "How long are you going to make me wait?"
My voice came out quieter than intended. I brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek; I had spent years waiting for her. The more I wanted her, the more carefully I had to restrain myself, and strangely... I found myself liking that.
Because when she finally came to me, I wanted there to be no doubt that she had chosen me. My fingers tightened slightly around hers.
"I can wait, but don’t expect me to be patient, my beloved; choose me before...I lose my patience."
Her brows suddenly furrowed again. I immediately softened my grip and leaned closer. I looked down at our joined hands, and for the first time that night, I allowed myself to relax.
My wife was beside me, her hand was in mine, and the pillow barrier she’d spent so much effort building had already fallen.
Perhaps she didn’t realize it yet, but I had all the patience in the world. Because eventually...she would stop running, and when that day came... I would make sure she knew exactly how long I’d been waiting for her.