Scarlett grabbed the bed with her hands to raise her body, looking at her wrists where Victor had left his finger marks.
There were bruises.
Really crazy.
Although his face was as dry as usual, he seemed troubled by something, he did not control his strength.
Scarlett lifted her nightgown, seeing the same marks on her thighs.
He didn't mean to leave her, and if she had said she was in pain he would have stopped, but at that moment she lost consciousness.
Their rare intimate moments were as sweet as a piece of candy.
I felt confused.
During their marriage, she thought calling this “sharing love” was inappropriate.
She thought he wouldn't care if she was another mother in the bed.
He always made her feel this way.
Perhaps because of his unaffected or disturbed attitude.
If this was a sharing of love, he should have shown even a tenth of her joy.
But he didn't, so she thought this wasn't called sharing love.
But last night was different.
Victor looked at her many times, as if trying to tempt her, staring at her for a long time.
He forced her to look at him.
He looked like he really wanted her.
His look was more powerful than thousands of words.
If she had the power, she would have given him everything he wanted at that moment.
Scarlett spent the night awake, upset by her ridiculous lie.
Pretending to be asleep was exhausting.
She lay with her back to him until three in the morning, then got up to see him sleeping so perfectly, as if there was a line dividing the bed.
His face was like a painting, but his perfect sleep looked like it would inspire no painter.
It was different from last night's Victor had turned her on.
He seemed to be possessed by the ghost of the Domfelt family.
“Anyway, he has no ancestors.”
She mumbled what Victor hated.
She did not know the original purpose of this hill in the wastelands, as Victor and Duchess Marina had tried to hide it.
Scarlett often wondered if this place was used to banish kings.
The hill overlooking the endless sea evoked a feeling of loneliness.
She did not feel this loneliness in Seventh Street, but in Domfelt Palace, she felt it despite the presence of servants.
She looked at him for a long time, and decided to act freely since she had decided to deceive him.
He'll think I'm crazy anyway.
She pulled his arm and lay in his lap.
She scolded herf for her behavior and her apparent loneliness, but she could not control it.
She felt lonely next to him, as she felt when he was her husband.
As if seeing him makes her lonely.
After a while, she calmed her heart and lay down with her back to him again.
I felt tears.
She hated herf for still wanting his hug.
She felt like a child who lacked her parents' love.
She covered her mouth to stifle her crying and closed her eyes.
The night was long for those who did not sleep.
Early in the morning, Scarlett's alarm clock rang.
She heard the sound of clear glass and thought she had to stop it and change it.
The sound of the alarm clock is so beautiful, it makes me listen to it...
She blamed the alarm clock for her tiredness.
After Victor's tiring and sleepless night, she couldn't move a finger.
I heard him approach the table and turn off the alarm.
Fortunately, it seemed annoying to him.
Then I heard him say: “The alarm sound is too soft.”
Think the same thing.
Scarlett laughed, and he looked at her.
She hid herf under the blanket and said, “I was thinking the same thing.”
Victor bent down, propped the bed with one hand, and lifted the covers with the other.
He placed his hand on her forehead, perhaps thinking that last night had exhausted her.
The night was really stressful.
It started out sweet, but she couldn't keep up with his energy.
During their marriage, this did not happen, so she wondered if it was because he had not met other women.
I got up with difficulty and asked him: “Did I forget to come here again?”
She was afraid to ask him about her love, so she spoke first.
He lifted the lid and said: “Yes.”
Then he lifted her silk nightgown.
He knows my memory is back, so does he want it again?
She tried to lower the dress, but he grabbed her arm and looked at the red bruises on her thighs.
She said embarrassed as she lowered the dress: “What is this?”
I pretended to have amnesia: “I don’t remember anything.”
“Don't you remember?”
I nodded quickly: “Nothing.”
“I have no right to say, but I did not force you.”
I looked at him in surprise: “What are you saying?
I know you are not that type.”
Victor Domfelt, who reveres honor, cannot commit a vile act.
But he seemed dissatisfied: “You say you don’t remember, so how can you trust me?”
“I said you're not that type.”
“It is not something to be taken lightly.”
“What's the problem?
Anyway, I'm the one who clung to you.”
Victor stopped, then approached, propping up the bed.
When I tried to get away, I fell onto the bed.
He leaned down and looked at her: “I might be like that.
No matter what I do, you won’t remember.”
Her fingers trembled.
His gaze was not as noble as she thought.
There was a strange coldness in his blue eyes.
She tried to speak, but she closed her mouth.
He said in a heavy voice, “As I said before, I never accepted that you brought the divorce papers.”
He gently placed his fingers on her neck: “Do you think I will push you away because I am not affected by you hugging me, forgetting about our divorce?”
Scarlett remembered Victor being violent sometimes last night.
She didn't realize it clearly in the middle, but the bruises on her thighs reminded her.
Victor was sometimes like crazy.
“Look at me”
He would order her if she tried to turn her face.
But she liked it.
If it were only sweet, it would feel bitter.
She wondered if he was always this clingy to those he shared a bed with.
This was not the case during their marriage.
Maybe there was a wildness inside him, suppressed by the ghost of this hill.
“Scarlett, I have killed many, regardless of justice,” Victor continued, as she watched him.
“And yet, you think I'm so moral?”
Her trembling stopped, and she frowned: “What are you saying?
If it weren’t for you, pirates would still be roaming the Salantir Sea.”
It was one thing to accuse him of fishness, but it was another to belittle his accomplishments.
She pushed him away while he was hesitant, and adjusted the shoulder of her dress: “I don’t know about morals, but I trust that you will not hurt me and I don’t remember.”
"did not?"
“Because you don't blame me now.”
“If you were that kind, you would have blamed me from the beginning, because I don't remember.
But you won't.”
I spoke firmly.
Evil Crimson was always coming up with reasons to hurt her, rarely admitting his mistake.
Although the comparison is unfair, Scarlett trusted Victor.
Like it or not, it has given many Salantaires safety and peaceful nights.
And that's enough.