episode_0111

By the time Felix’s magic class ended and he arrived at the mansion, it was already dusk, nearly evening. Ian and Millen, who had returned earlier by chance, had already changed their clothes, and Millen was busy running around the mansion to greet the patriarch. As a result, before dinner began, only one person entered Arina’s room while she was hurriedly drying her hair after bathing.

“You’re back? You should’ve told me before washing. I could’ve helped.”

He naturally took the towel from Arina’s hands and dried her hair for her. They looked like a couple or married pair who had been together for years, but the truth was, they had never once been intimate. Perhaps it was because they had been traveling in the imperial carriage, leaving no time for such moments.

But now that they were home, surely it’d be fine. Ian prided himself on how much he’d restrained himself.

Even back in Natizan, when Arina had offered her body in resignation, he refused through sheer willpower. When Millen’s interference made the chance slip away, or during the journey here—he endured it all. It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with his virility, so denying how difficult it had been would’ve been a lie. Tonight, he would finally claim her.

As Ian put away the towel and applied fragrant oil to her hair, his hands gradually trailed down her body. Just before reaching her chest, barely concealed by a thin robe—

“Ouch…”

His hand retreated just short of its destination after she pinched the back of it. Ian, flustered at being rejected for the first time, studied her reaction, only to meet Arina glaring at him with a frosty expression.

“Are you mad? Why?”

Why? Whhhhy?

She wanted to snap, Is that even a question? But she couldn’t bring herself to say it outright. Unable to answer, she turned her head away muttering under her breath, loud enough for him to barely catch.

“If you want to touch somebody, why not go touch your proper wife?”

“Huh? But that’s you—”

From Ian’s perspective, this was baffling. Arina herself had insisted on handing the title of legal wife to Millen while stopping him from refusing it.

“You go on dates with Millen. I’m just the chesty concubine, right?”

“Uh… Sorry…”

Ian panicked, sweating over how to appease the sulking Arina. Finally, she couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter, easing the tension.

“Pfft, kidding. Did you really think I’d be upset over something like that?”

“No… I figured you might reasonably feel hurt.”

Only then did Ian realize he’d been played—but rather than being annoyed, he wiped his forehead in relief.

“You know me well. So, treat me right. Push me too far, and I might just cheat.”

“That’s not allowed.”

Though she said it lightly, Ian pulled her into a tight embrace, his voice serious.

“Why take it so seriously? As if there’s anyone else I’d ever be with.”

“Even so. Don’t joke like that.”

The raw possessiveness in his grip and tone bordered on painful, but Arina welcomed it with joy.

“Fine.”

Then she placed her hand over his, resting on her stomach, and pulled it up slightly.

“You can touch me.”

“Sure?”

“Of course. Everything I have is yours. You don’t even need permission.”

The moment he got the green light, Ian seized her ample chest—too large to fit entirely in his hands. At first, teasing gently, then squeezing tighter midway, ending with a soft massage.

“Mmm… Hah, really, you’re so obsessive… You’re such a pervert. Do you like them that much?”

“It’s because they’re yours. No one else could ever come close.”

Though Arina’s chest was unusually large, its shape was flawless, defying gravity—a rarity no amount of searching the world could replicate. It was proof of her identity, unmistakable.

“How can I argue after that?”

“Anyway, you met Lucia earlier, right? How was she?”

“She’s lovely. Pretty, bright, kind. You can tell she grew up drowning in love—it made me a little jealous.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t envy Lucia. I promise.”

“Smooth talker. Alright, that’s enough for today. Dinner’s about to start.”

“But I’m still not satisfied…”

“And risk being late? If you want to ruin my image with your father before we even begin, go ahead.”

“Right. Probably shouldn’t.”

“Eek?! What are you doing?!”

Suddenly swept into a princess carry, Arina flailed to be put down.

“Let’s go.”

“Don’t joke—put me down! I still need to change!”

The First Meeting.

A gathering where families of the bride and groom meet. Meeting the parents of one’s partner is nerve-wracking, but unavoidable when marriage means joining those families permanently.

Unfortunately, with two brides—yet both lacking extensive family—only the groom’s parents were present, making it even more awkward. Worse still, for Arina, while her long-deceased parents were one thing, her estranged sisters were another matter entirely.

In this unfamiliar situation, she couldn’t help but feel small.

Only Millen, completely unbothered, kept the mood lively with her chatter.

Ian’s father, Alfred, who had been laughing heartily at Millen’s stories, took a sip of wine and studied Arina.

“Our eldest daughter-in-law is unusually quiet. Don’t you have anything to say? Any questions?”

“Huh? Oh, I…”

“Father! Eldest? I’m clearly the legal wife! Strictly speaking, Arina is the second.”

“Hmm? Ian, is that true?”

“Yes… For now, that’s how it stands.”

“Eh? Wait, really?”

Both Alfred and Lucia blinked in surprise.

Millen scowled, clearly having assumed she’d be second, but—

“What can I do? When my brother talked about women at home, Arina’s name was practically the only one I ever heard.”

“Really? Now that’s interesting. I wonder what Ian said about me.”

Before Ian could clamp a hand over her mouth, Lucia cheerfully answered.

“At first? Not exactly flattering. He called her strong but cold, blunt, ruthless. Oh, and said she had a temper—if she weren’t a woman, he’d have punched her…”

“Ohhh…?”

Arina’s lips twisted into a strained smile as her gaze slid to Ian.

“Good thing I’m a woman, Ian. Touch me back then, and things wouldn’t have ended peacefully.”

“That was before I knew you! Lucia!”

“Alright, alright. After that, though, he only praised you. Said you were stunning—not just your face, but your heart too. That he’d regret losing you. That’s around when he left home.”

Satisfied, Arina leaned back in her chair. Her glance met Millen’s.

Though they agreed to the marriage, who was loved more was another matter. In this silent duel, Arina smirked in victory.

“And yet, despite loving her so much, he brings home another woman. I knew my brother was popular, but marrying two at once? Trash.”

“Meh, it’s fine. I allowed it.”

Millen’s fatal weakness—had Arina not willingly stepped down, she never could’ve claimed the title of first wife.

This battle was never one Millen could win. She knew it too, but still seized what might be her only chance—only for Arina to never yield an inch.

When the conversation lulled, Arina carefully set down her fork and spoke up.

“Um… Father, you asked if I had anything on my mind. Actually, there is one thing.”

“Go on.”

“You all probably know this, but I’m Liel Frost—meaning, I was originally male. I wanted to ask… if you’re really okay with me marrying Ian…”

Though the atmosphere suggested everyone had gladly accepted it, the idea of one’s son marrying someone born male would’ve sparked outrage in other households.

“Of course it’s fine! My sister-in-law being the genius mage of the century is amazing!”

Lucia’s enthusiastic defense notwithstanding, it wasn’t that simple. Alfred, meeting Arina’s gaze, chose his words carefully.

“Honestly, at first, I was taken aback. But I trust my son. If Ian chose this, he must’ve had his reasons.”

“Dad faced heavy opposition when he married. Guess you inherited his defiance—no ordinary match would ever satisfy you.”

“You brat!”

Alfred lightly thumped Lucia’s head with more affection than force.

“I see.”

Arina responded dryly—her thoughts elsewhere.

Her mind drifted to the siblings (once brother and sister, now sisters) she’d long been separated from.

Could she reclaim—

Family, the way she had happiness?