As Aslin placed her hand on Endymion’s cheek, a smile slowly deepened across her face as she whispered her thanks.

It wasn’t a shallow, fake smile meant to be polite.

Even in the darkened room, her green eyes sparkled with a kindness that was so rare, it was hard to associate with her usual self.

Even as she thanked him, her lips, which were usually pressed in a firm line, softened into a gentle curve—something one would rarely imagine from someone like her.

But that tender smile was short-lived.

“I’ve done nothing but wrong you today… I couldn’t even thank you properly until you were asleep….”

Her voice trailed off in a strangely unconfident tone, and her expression started to change.

It was no longer gratitude, but sorrow, tinged with regret.

Though she appeared downcast, it did nothing to diminish her beauty.

No matter how beautiful one is, the melancholy born from guilt can never compare to the beauty of a smile—that much was certain.

Guilt. Before Aslin could even feel the rightful gratitude toward Endymion for saving her, she was overwhelmed by the regret of everything that had happened since the day of their marriage.

She had taken him in a marriage of convenience, a marriage that was nothing more than a strategic maneuver—one she herself could only describe as despicable.

Not only that, but on the night of their wedding, she had insisted on engaging him in a duel, under the guise of family tradition.

Even when she knew he wasn’t much of a drinker, she’d recklessly indulged in alcohol, her body still heated from the duel, and on top of that, she made a fool of herself with her drunken antics.

That alone was enough to make her want to crawl into a hole from embarrassment.

The following morning, when she had planned to serve him a perfect breakfast, she ended up being nothing but a burden.

During the late stages of the civil war, when an emergency alliance was formed to fend off the monsters that suddenly invaded the empire, Endymion had been more than willing to throw himself into battle, aiding people from all camps and injuring himself in the process. His mana core was damaged, and despite her attempt to cook him a decent breakfast, she failed utterly.

Even after hearing how dire the situation was in the House of Swords, all she had done was hand him a paltry marble mining right granted by the Emperor—something that had belonged to his family in the first place, and then she had the audacity to act like it was some grand favor.

Despite it being the first day of their marriage, she had dragged him along to the outskirts of the territory to help the Knights of the Radiant Wing deal with the monsters, using teleportation magic without a second thought.

While subjugating the monsters, they encountered an assassin. Her unpreparedness had led her to briefly lose consciousness, an embarrassing display.

And during that life-or-death situation, it was Endymion who fought off the assassin, pushing his body to the limit, while all she could do was watch him in a daze, powerless.

In the end, it was Endymion who collapsed, having pushed himself beyond his limits to protect her.

Tremble—

Her hands shook with shame and self-loathing.

As soon as she regained her senses, the image of Endymion lying on the ground, collapsed and broken, flashed through her mind.

“…Ugh.”

Her trembling hand instinctively reached out to brush against his cheek, but she quickly recoiled, letting out a soft groan as she hurriedly withdrew her hand.

Everything she had done over the past two days was nothing short of disgraceful.

Even just listing the events in her mind made her feel certain—never before in the entire history of her family, a house that prized honor above all, had anyone committed so many dishonorable acts as she had.

And yet, as if all that weren’t enough, she made another grave mistake later that evening.

After bringing the unconscious Endymion back to his bedchamber and tending to him, she had accidentally fallen asleep.

Falling asleep wasn’t the issue. The real problem was that, when she dozed off, her body had draped over his, obstructing his rest as a patient.

‘…I didn’t even realize…’

As she inspected his body, worried that his mana core, pushed beyond its limit in his efforts to save her, might have sustained further damage, she had inadvertently fallen asleep on top of him. His body, firm yet somehow comforting, had lulled her into slumber.

No matter how many excuses she made, nothing could justify the sheer absurdity of her behavior.

“….”

Her right hand, which had hovered near Endymion’s cheek, slowly joined her left as she covered her face in shame, unable to mask her embarrassment any longer.

Even though no one else was around to witness her embarrassment in the quiet bedroom, Aslin’s lingering sense of guilt poked at her relentlessly, a natural defense mechanism that wouldn’t let her be.

‘At least you still know shame.’

Aslin, who didn’t even dare to whisper her thoughts aloud for fear of waking Endymion, continued to replay all her misdeeds from the past day, scrutinizing each one with ruthless honesty.

The conclusion was obvious.

No matter what angle she considered, the one at fault was always her. And the one who had been dragged into this abnormal marriage with no wrongdoing on his part was none other than Endymion.

“…Haa.”

A deep sigh escaped Aslin as the heat of guilt swelled in her chest, making her expression turn more somber.

She knew it all too well—their marriage was far from a normal, healthy relationship.

And she was fully aware that she was the one responsible for turning it into what it had become.

When her old friend, now the Emperor, who had emerged victorious from the civil war, informed her that the former head of the House of Swords had signed away everything to the crown just before taking his own life, she had accepted it all as if under a spell. And from there, the political marriage, cloaked in the guise of a strategic union, had taken shape, leading them to where they were now.

Though the House of Swords had fallen, Endymion was still the rightful heir to a dukedom, a title still intact. And yet, he had been reduced to little more than a hostage disguised as a son-in-law in a duchy. Imagining how he must have felt—the shock, the humiliation—filled her with a deeper sense of guilt.

“Haa….”

Aslin let out another long, deep sigh, but no matter how many she released, she couldn’t expel the overwhelming feelings of guilt and remorse from her heart.

What made it worse was comparing her own disgraceful behavior to Endymion’s.

Just think—how must he have felt when, on their wedding night, she had insisted on a sword duel, citing family tradition? The sight of his bride waiting for him, sword in hand, in the bridal chamber, must have left him utterly bewildered.

If their positions had been reversed and Aslin had found herself in his shoes, she could confidently say she wouldn’t have just jumped out the window to escape.

And yet, after that one minor act of resistance, Endymion never showed any real resentment toward her.

She’d given him a sword as a wedding gift, then immediately suggested another duel despite knowing his condition wasn’t ideal, and yet he’d still humored her, giving it his all.

When she’d drunkenly collapsed on the table after their duel, he’d gently carried her to bed and even complimented her appearance in a caring voice.

Instead of serving him a proper meal to help him recover from the slight damage to his mana core, she had prepared a knights’ diet meant for building muscle, yet he’d gratefully accepted it, easing her embarrassment.

Even those acts of kindness paled in comparison to his heroic efforts during the assassination attempt, where he fought without regard for his own life to protect her—a gesture so noble that words couldn’t do it justice.

The more she thought about how he had selflessly guarded her, despite being trapped in a hollow, one-sided marriage, the more she realized that before she could express any gratitude, she needed to apologize.

“When he wakes up tomorrow….”

Over and over, she promised herself. Clenching her hands into fists, which had been covering her face in shame, she nodded, her green eyes now glinting with determination.

She would make things right, starting with a proper apology for the disgraceful behavior of the past two days.

But as she resolved to apologize, a thought crept into her mind.

What would Endymion’s reaction be when she confessed her wrongdoings and offered her apology?

Would he respond as gently as he had when he laid her down in bed after finding her in such a pitiful state?

Or would he take on the stern, commanding persona she’d seen on the battlefield, coldly pointing out her mistakes?

Aslin’s logical mind, after much consideration, leaned toward the latter.

And as soon as she reached that conclusion, her imagination took hold.

—Where has the tactical genius from the battlefield gone? How could you let yourself become a fool who falls unconscious while fighting an assassin?

—I knew I was nothing more than a hostage disguised as a son-in-law, but it’s disheartening to see my future partner so utterly incompetent.

As Endymion’s imagined reaction played out in her mind, Aslin couldn’t help but let out a sharp breath.

“…Huff.”

It was just a thought, not something she actually heard, yet the mere idea of his cold voice sent shivers down her spine, making her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

Tremble—

Her entire body lightly shook. Even though she hadn’t felt the cold in many winters, she found it amusing how her body trembled now—just from her imagination.

‘…Even so, I must do it.’

Despite her physical reaction, her resolve to apologize to Endymion grew stronger with each passing moment.

Even if he didn’t accept her apology, even if he reacted just as she had imagined—cold and stern, or even harsher—she knew that apologizing was the right thing to do.

And if he didn’t accept it, so be it. Even if he couldn’t express his frustration in public, if this private act allowed him to release some of the resentment he’d built up from their absurd situation, that would be enough for her.

In fact, it would be far better to face his wrath than to offer a clumsy expression of gratitude to cover her guilt.

“….”

Closing her eyes, Aslin silently nodded, steeling herself for what was to come. After collecting her thoughts, she lowered herself back onto the bed, abandoning her earlier impulse to reach out and touch Endymion’s cheek.

There was no point in staying up all night, anxiously wondering if he would accept her apology. If she let herself grow tired and haggard, it might make him feel needlessly guilty toward her, and that would only add to the guilt she already felt.

So, she laid her body down completely, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep.

…At least, that was the plan.

Thump-thump—

‘Why… why is this happening?’

Her heart began pounding wildly, making sleep impossible.

Aslin didn’t realize it.

Last night, when she had fallen asleep drunk, she had been too out of it to properly register his presence. Even though she had forced him into the bed and slept beside him, she hadn’t been fully conscious of it.

Tonight, however, fully aware of the man lying right next to her, her body couldn’t help but react. Her senses came alive, sending heat coursing through her in response to the realization.

‘I… I can’t sleep.’

Her plan to get a good night’s sleep and meet Endymion the next morning with a fresh face, ready to apologize, was crumbling before her eyes.

In the end, Aslin spent the entire night wide awake.

And the consequences of that sleepless night would hit her hard the next day.

But as she lay there, her heart racing uncontrollably, she had no idea what awaited her.