What kind of game could he possibly be playing this time?! Byletta thought furiously, but the sensation of his musculature pressing against her back had left her quite speechless. The man looked slim, but he had the build of a soldier. It was probably that physique that allowed him to possess so much beauty without looking at all feminine. When they had first arrived at the village, all eyes had been on him. He had not reacted at all, however, as though the attention was a common occurrence.
“What was that for?”
“This bridge is falling apart. I’ve heard that it’s going to be replaced with a new one soon. Apparently, they’re bringing some workmen in to fix it tomorrow.”
With every word, his breath tickled the nape of Byletta’s neck. It sent chills down her spine and made her struggle against her husband. Why must my body revel in remembering what he does to me at night? she lamented. She was perfectly happy sleeping alone—indeed, the previous night, she’d been ecstatic. If she perceived even a hint of loneliness in herself, well…it was surely all in her head.
“All right, I understand. Now let me go.”
Byletta squirmed inside her husband’s arms, but it didn’t feel like Arnald had any intention of releasing his viselike grip.
“You really will get hurt if you keep struggling like that.”
“Ah… N-not there!”
Unable to escape the warm brush of Arnald’s breaths over her skin, Byletta could feel heat beginning to spread through her body. But even though he could clearly see the blush dusting her cheeks, he continued talking regardless.
“There’s another way over there.”
Arnald was right in that the wooden bridge in front of her did look quite old and decrepit. With her foot still floating there, ready to carry her forward, Byletta shifted her gaze in the direction that Arnald indicated. There was a plank of wood bridging the banks of the stream.
“Thank you for your assistance. You can let go of me now.”
Why must he try to humiliate her so? And somewhere so public?
Byletta was so embarrassed she could feel tears starting to well in her eyes.
She might no longer be a virgin, but the fact remained that Byletta had little to no experience with members of the opposite sex. She had never, to her memory, been held so tightly in a man’s arms—not even by her father. She’d had no idea it would make her feel so self-conscious.
But Arnald seemed uninterested in her turmoil. He let out a deep sigh.
“That would be very difficult for me.”
“It’s simple. All you have to do is loosen your arms!” Byletta shouted in a burst of fury.
That was when she felt Arnald’s tongue at the nape of her neck.
The warm, wet sensation sent a heat throughout her body that grew with every passing second.
“You just look so delectable.”
“If you’re that hungry, go and find something to eat.”
He was ridiculing her! Toying with her!
Finally managing to tear herself from his grip, Byletta clutched the back of her neck and wailed in shame.
With the inspection of the first village complete, the party headed to the Swangan manor house at dusk. Byletta felt a sense of relief wash over her.
Passing through a gate surrounded by high walls and emerging from a cluster of trees, they arrived at the estate’s front garden. Before them, Byletta could see a residence even older and more enormous than the manor she’d shared with the count and his family in the capital. While it was certainly old-fashioned, it was so well cared for that it still looked beautiful. Even in the nighttime, the torches here and there lit it up. Further in, there were steeples and several storehouses. That alone told Byletta that finances were doing well.
The head steward, Bardu, reverently bowed his head in greeting.
“Welcome back, my lord.”
“Thank you. We’ll be staying here for a while.”
With the count now out of the carriage, Byletta and Arnald were not far behind. Bardu’s eyes grew wide in shock upon seeing them.
“Young master?”
“Yes, it’s been quite a while.”
It was a casual greeting for a man Arnald couldn’t have seen for ten years, but the head steward had gotten his job for a reason. His smile widened regardless.
“I’m very glad to see that you’ve returned from the battlefield unscathed.”
“Thanks.”
“No doubt your young wife is relieved as well.”
“Quite,” interjected Byletta.
Worried that she might let something slip, she’d done her best to keep her answer as brief as possible. Bardu didn’t seem to think anything of it and nodded along calmly.
“If I’m not mistaken, I believe the tax inspector returned to the capital just the other day. Is something amiss?”
“We simply wish to check on a few things,” Count Swangan explained. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“As you wish.”
Without saying another word, Bardu led them into the house.
The tax inspector had already told the count and Byletta that the grain embezzlement had been done at the instruction of the head steward, but all Bardu had offered by way of a reaction to their sudden appearance was a dubious look. Was he just extremely confident that he wouldn’t be found out? Or perhaps he worried that he would look suspicious if he probed too much…?
It was also possible he did want to ask something but was trying to find the correct words to broach the subject with the unapproachable count.
Byletta stared at Count Swangan, who was acting his usual haughty self as he followed after Bardu. He must have been fretting somewhat, but it didn’t appear that way. Whatever was in his heart, on the outside, he didn’t seem upset in the slightest.
What if he told her he didn’t care about the embezzlement after all? What would she do?
“My lady, we prepared the same room for you as usual. However, given that the bed is so small, you won’t be able to share with your husband. Shall we prepare a room for the young lord next door instead?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
That no room had been readied for her husband was his fault entirely—how could Bardu do his job when his young master had decided to accompany his wife and the count so suddenly? And even beyond that, Byletta had absolutely no issue with separate rooms. In fact, she was relieved to hear it. She nodded before he could protest, but his quiet voice soon found her ear.
“Separate rooms won’t do.”