For a long moment, a stifling silence swallowed the room whole.
"I... I..." Asella's body trembled uncontrollably, her voice fracturing into useless fragments. Fear had seized her throat, strangling every word before it could form.
But the man's gaze only grew colder, hardening like frost spreading across glass.
"I never imagined you would reject me," he said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "Just like that."
Asella's eyes flew wide with shock. _Reject him?_ The accusation was absurd. She had never intended to refuse him as a husband—never even considered it.
"If anyone had witnessed that, they would have thought it was assault." His tone dripped with bitter sarcasm. "Do you despise my touch that much?"
She shook her head frantically, desperately searching for words that refused to come.
"No, it's not—"
"Does my touch make you sick?"
"I... it's..." She wanted to explain, to justify herself somehow, but the words dissolved like smoke in her mind.
_What is wrong with me?_ The question clawed at her from the inside. _Was that Philip's voice I heard? I can't remember... I was so terrified. This cruel man, he... I don't know how to explain it. I don't even understand what happened to me..._
No matter what she said, she had no excuse. At the very least, she was grateful he hadn't laughed at her.
Finally, utterly lost, Asella fell silent.
Calix's thin lips curled into a haughty sneer.
"I should have known."
Although this marriage had been a carefully calculated arrangement, he had never intended to neglect his duties as a husband. At the very least, that was what he had believed. Moreover, divorce was absolutely forbidden in the Benvito family—an iron law that had never been broken. Their child would be the next heir. That much was certain.
"You should have warned me from the beginning."
Asella blinked, confusion flickering across her pale face.
"Was it truly so difficult to say?" His voice turned glacial. "'Don't touch me. I don't want this.' Was that so impossible?"
Each word he spoke drove a blade deeper into his own chest. The dizzying rapture that had consumed him only moments ago—the intoxicating excitement—had vanished completely, leaving nothing but cold ash.
"I shouldn't have approached you. I shouldn't have touched you at all..."
_I thought she was simply nervous._
Yes, she had been anxious. But he hadn't realized—hadn't even suspected—how repulsive she found him.
Even tonight, when she had lain on the bed just moments ago, he could have sworn she was ready to receive him.
But she wasn't.
_How could I have been so blind? I never considered that she might despise any touch from me._
_Any touch._
_Even my fingertips._
_I'm an idiot._
Why had he assumed he was irresistible? Simply because he was a descendant of Benvito? He had foolishly believed that someone with such exceptional abilities would naturally excel in _this_ arena as well.
_What do I actually know about any of this?_
And those moments when she had gazed at him with such apparent enchantment... He had stupidly convinced himself that perhaps she wanted him too.
_How could I have forgotten the power of these cursed red eyes?_
_Fool._ He had hoped this night would finally free her from her obsessive fear. That she would learn to trust him. What had he whispered to her? That he would make this night unforgettable?
_Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic._
He suddenly felt like a filthy beast. Unfamiliar emotions surged within him—powerful and unwelcome—awakening against his will from somewhere deep in his chest, pressing down on his heart like a stone.
He couldn't identify this feeling. Was it overwhelming rage? Wounded pride?
But in truth, it was suffering.
Calix clenched his teeth against the agony of a cruel, foreign emotion he had never experienced before.
"I won't bother you again."
Asella's breath caught.
"A wife who refuses her husband on their wedding night..." He struggled to contain his fury behind an unnaturally calm voice. "Or perhaps... you don't understand why I came here tonight?"
Silence.
"Say something!" The last thread of Calix's patience snapped.
_The humiliation of rejection. The shame of spending this night alone._ His pride lay in ruins at his feet. But he held himself back—barely. His patience had endured this long only because some desperate part of him still hoped she would explain. A flimsy excuse, perhaps, even a pathetic one—but _something_.
Yet her stubborn little mouth remained firmly sealed. Worse, she deliberately avoided his gaze, as if she couldn't bear to look at him.
And Calix shattered.
A dark chuckle escaped his lips, hollow and bitter, as everything inside him twisted into a knot of poison.
"**Useless woman.**"
He spat the words without hesitation—words designed to wound.
He knew it was vile. He knew it was petty. But he did it deliberately, still clinging to the faint hope of provoking _any_ reaction from her.
_Let her scream. Let her cry. Let her show me that this is unfair._
Then... perhaps... he would have hope. Then, maybe, he could somehow suppress this terrible, unfamiliar anguish.
---
At Calix's words, Asella bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted copper.
Nobles rarely married for love—she knew that. Arranged marriages carried obligations, most of which were bound by contract and calculation. Since Philip had boasted about it daily, she knew exactly what price Calix had offered for her hand.
But she remained completely ignorant of his demands. She had simply assumed the Archduke had one goal. Perhaps two.
_To kill me. And Mariel._
That was why he had paid such an exorbitant price. What other reason could there possibly be?
And so Asella couldn't react to Calix's cruel words. She didn't even dare meet his eyes.
She had long grown accustomed to insults that crushed her pride and made her cower. However—
_Useless._
_I cannot be useless to this man._
Only by proving her worth would she survive long enough to save Mariel. If she wanted to live even a little longer, she had to demonstrate her value.
It was obvious what was expected of a woman who brought nothing but a name to a union of noble families. In a sense, this was the simplest and most reliable method.
_But..._
Why would he want a child with a woman he planned to kill? No matter how desperately she searched for an answer, she found nothing.
_Perhaps... all Calix Benvito wants is to enjoy my body._
_Then I cannot refuse him. I must be at his service at all times._
_So... before it's too late... I have to cling to him. Beg him. Right now—_
But Calix moved first.
"Nothing to say, then?" The invisible pressure that had been crushing her body suddenly lifted.
"**Excellent.**" A cruel, hollow laugh escaped him.
His last hope for any reaction had crumbled to dust. The woman still hadn't moved. Perhaps... she truly didn't care at all?
"I'm not generous enough to tolerate such blatant refusal. Don't expect to be allowed to do whatever you please."
Asella flinched at the cold threat, ice spreading through her veins.
He noticed her fingertips trembling—but chose to ignore his wife's fear. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the bedroom.
---
He didn't even acknowledge the guards who greeted him at the door. That cursed heat was rising again, burning beneath his skin. _Damn it._
He retreated swiftly down the dark corridor, unaware that his hands had clenched into white-knuckled fists. Though he tried to force everything that had just happened from his mind, his thoughts betrayed him—replaying the actions of a woman he couldn't begin to understand. Unwanted suspicions crept into his head like poison.
_What if..._
_Another man._
She had clearly never wanted this marriage. Perhaps she was still hoping—
The tall silhouette that had been striding across the cold stone floor froze mid-step.
_Rave!_
His informants had investigated everything surrounding her since practically childhood. Her circle of acquaintances was so pathetically small he could count them on one hand. It couldn't be anyone else. Calix knew that with absolute certainty.
_But then what?_
Try as he might, he couldn't solve the puzzle. Finally, he forced himself to abandon the thought.
_Don't worry about it._
He spoke the words aloud—as if issuing orders to himself.
_She's only the formal Grand Duchess. I need a successor. But even if she refuses... there are plenty of women. This isn't worth thinking about._
Yet in truth, he couldn't envision anyone but his wife as the mother of his child.
He simply hadn't realized it yet.
"No need to worry," Calix muttered, roughly pushing back a strand of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes.
The footsteps that had briefly ceased echoed heavily down the corridor once more.
---
## — Alone —
Asella lay motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as shadows crawled across its surface.
_I should have stopped him before he left. I should have said something._
The belated regret settled like a stone in the pit of her stomach, aching dully.
_Useless woman._
Calix had been right. Even though this marriage had been Philip's decision—even though her brother had been the one to sign the contract—the buyer shouldn't have cared what methods Philip used to extract the bride's consent.
_But why do I feel so bitter?_
Asella unconsciously pressed her lips together, fighting against the tears of resentment that threatened to spill at any moment. Then she blinked rapidly, wiping her damp lashes with the back of her trembling hand.
_It's all my fault._
_I ruined everything._