Episode 165. Confirmation (1)

What is the way to express love between lovers?

An act of confirming one’s own affection and making sure the other person knows it too. Not just an act done because ‘we’re a couple,’ but an act that can only be done because you truly want each other and cherish each other.

Sex? Can you say you love someone just because you have sex? If so, what about the countless men who pay for sex with prostitutes in brothels? Can they truly say they ‘love’ those prostitutes? Isn’t it just an act for short-term pleasure or to continue the family line? Putting a man’s penis inside a woman’s vagina. There was no great meaning in that act itself.

So, what Monica considered important was ‘kissing.’ In the endings of fairy tales she read as a child, and at weddings watched by many people. A light kiss that expresses love and the vow of that love, light yet not insignificant in its meaning. An act that can express everything from innocent and wholesome love to sticky and intense atmospheres in bed. It has faded a lot now, but for Monica, who dreamed of a storybook love, it was something to admire enough.

And Edward, among the trash-like and utterly hopeless nobles, seemed like the only person who could fulfill her storybook love. He doesn’t leave even when she’s harsh or spiteful. He lacks nothing in terms of looks, skills, or character. He even feels like a prince on a white horse protecting her and Yulstein County from rebellions and barbarians. He doesn’t ride a white horse, but she could just buy him one…

Thanks to his overflowing stamina, he seems to be messing around with women a bit, but she couldn’t fault him for that. Edward-as far as Monica knows-was considerably restrained compared to other noble men of the same era, and when she heard the words, ‘Isn’t it because you can’t satisfy him?’ Monica had nothing to say. And above all, she felt that he loved her. So that’s why.

“Haa, euuup❤”

Chureup, chup.

As their fleshy tongues intertwined, a vulgar sound of sucking and slurping echoed instead of moans. Unable to even breathe, Monica could only watch the scene. The sight of their red tongues intertwining, drawing a pair of curves, reminded Monica of snakes mating. Cunning and filthy. Corrupted snakes.

When was the last time she kissed her husband? Even when they were frantically exploring each other’s bodies, when they were caressing each other and licking each other’s bodies with their mouths. She doesn’t remember her lips touching his. After the kiss on their wedding day, vowing their love… Well. She really doesn’t remember. And the absence of that memory stabbed deeply into Monica’s heart.

What have I been doing until now? Calling him the person I love, cherishing him. This relationship that I tried to protect. What was my relationship with her, whom I thought of as my closest friend, someone I could trust until the grave? Why are they together? Doing the very act she considered most important, ‘kissing.’

What if they were just having sex? Would she still be this angry? Or if it was oral sex, which she had asked about before, or some other act? No, even if they were doing all sorts of strange and perverted things, like he did with ‘that maid.’ Wouldn’t she have been able to accept it if it was a relationship where they just didn’t kiss? After thinking so much, what came into her eyes was. The sight of two men and women touching bare skin, matching their bellies, and at the same time, sharing a loving kiss, overflowing with love.

Memories of conversations with Winnie flashed through Monica’s mind. No wonder she looked reluctant when I told her to come and live with me in the estate. They must be meeting separately like this, having sex and everything. There are too many eyes in the castle, and the risk of getting caught is high, so that must be why. How frustrating must this clueless woman have been?

Naturally, she could guess whose baby was in Winnie’s belly. When she asked if she missed her husband? Or when she asked about relationships, pretending to give love advice, when she asked about her relationship with Edward? No, before that, when she asked if she wasn’t interested in men in the first place? How pathetic and ridiculous must she have looked. Not knowing anything. Her husband is head over heels for her, and they even had a child first. How funny must it have been for her to be imagining things and boasting all alone?

Having such a loving relationship. Already bearing the fruits of love between them. How pathetic must she have been, trying to have a child. She felt a sense of futility in everything. Come to think of it, the timing of when Edward actively started having a relationship with her was after Winnie had a child. When he revealed that fact to her, her belly was already quite swollen, so he must have known before that.

The woman he loves is pregnant, so he has no choice. A relationship used to relieve his sexual desires. She thought it was love, but was that all their relationship was to him? At this rate, what’s the difference between her and a simple ‘hole,’ which she had been trying so hard to ignore. What’s the difference between her and a prostitute for simple lust?

“Haa, ….”

Her body trembled. Had she ever felt such intense emotions before? Not even when her father died, or when she inherited the County title. Not even on her wedding day. Just thinking about the magnitude of the emotions she felt, they weren’t as intense as this.

Swallowing all her resentment and injustice, she carefully walked out of the door. She didn’t want to show this side of herself to those two, at least. If she faced them directly right now, she didn’t know what she would do herself. Walking away with a hollow heart from the shock and betrayal, the hem of her maid uniform came into view above her neat shoes.

Ah, the gift I brought. I left it behind. Well, whatever.

“Haa, haa… Count-nim.”

“….”

As if she had been following her as soon as she left, ‘that maid’ was waiting for her, breathing heavily.

‘How about you stay for a meal?’

She raised her head and looked at the face of ‘that maid.’ No, Daria.

“You… you knew.”

“…Yes.”

She was the only one who didn’t know about a relationship that even a mere maid knew about. She thought she was paying attention to her relationships with the people around her, but she didn’t know anything. The fact itself seemed to be mocking her, and she wanted to scream because the world was so cruel. But then….

Daria’s face. That always expressionless face, wasn’t arrogant pity. It seemed like she was genuinely worried about her. And it seemed like her situation wasn’t much different. She couldn’t bring herself to get angry.

“Keuheup, heuk. Heueuk….”

“Count-nim.”

Daria wrapped a scarf around her neck.

“It’s cold. Please go inside.”

“…Okay.”

She doesn’t know how she got back after that. All Monica remembers is that the outside air was cold, and that Daria was considerate of her, making it possible for her to have lunch alone in her office under the pretext of being busy with work. As proof, a simple meal was on her desk.

…She didn’t eat a single bite though.

Monica realized that day. That when a person is driven to the extreme, when they receive a huge shock, all motivation disappears. She had thought that people who become shocked and listless were ‘lacking in willpower.’ She could understand the feelings of people who commit suicide, whom she used to think, ‘If you’re going to do that, why don’t you kill at least one person before you go?’

And very fortunately for Monica, she had no intention of taking her own life. She had too much to be responsible for. Forcibly pushing the matters of love and passion into a corner of her mind. When she mechanically processed the documents, her work speed increased dramatically, but she soon stopped because she thought of her husband.

Originally, it was something she and her husband would have done together, touching each other and having fun. She had no motivation at all. The moment she thought, ‘What’s the point of doing this?’ she didn’t want to do anything. She wanted to throw everything away and lie down in bed, as if her mind would be cleared. She didn’t feel like sleeping, but tracing the patterns on the ceiling with her eyes helped her forget for a while. But such peace cannot last long. Soon, an existence appeared that broke that unstable equilibrium.

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“….”

Why, why even in this moment. When she hears that voice.

“Why didn’t you eat? Do you have that much to do? Or are you not feeling well?”

“…I just, I don’t have an appetite.”

Why is her anger subsiding? That voice, which is worried about her, should feel hypocritical and pretentious. She doesn’t force her to turn around, afraid to look at his face, but why is the word betrayal disappearing from this warmth as he clings to her to see her face?

“Why don’t you have an appetite.”

“Honey.”

Is she even allowed to call him honey? No, she wants to. Edward called her that first. The word ‘honey’ was like a lifeline grabbing onto the string of will in Monica’s heart.

“Yeah?”

“…Can I ask you just one thing?”