Byletta was taken aback by the reversal of the question. She, too, had received a portrait of her intended when the match was made, but she had thrown hers in the fireplace without so much as a passing glance. They had never met, but her husband at least seemed to have looked at her picture. Byletta couldn’t believe it.
“Umm… I can’t be sure, as something happened and yours was burned to a crisp before I had the chance to open it.”
Byletta couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she’d burned it on purpose in a fit of rage. Instead, she tried to obscure the facts a bit, but she could already see that Arnald was stiffening up. Granted, no one would like to hear that someone had set their picture on fire.
Byletta began to wonder if she should apologize, but then she realized there wasn’t much point anymore. It was all in the past.
“Pfft!”
Hearing the dry snort from beside her, Byletta turned and stared at her husband.
He had a hand to his mouth, and his shoulders were shaking with laughter. His default apathetic expression had crumpled, and his eyes were so crinkled that the emerald-green pupils were almost lost in between.
She’d never expected him to find it amusing!
Now it was Byletta’s turn to freeze up.
“I’m sorry,” Arnald said. “I just never expected you to tell me that it burned up before you even looked at it. To be honest with you, my superior sent the portrait to you without even telling me, so I have no idea how I looked in it, either. I’m somewhat relieved. You can look at me in the flesh now instead.”
“Meanwhile, I’m wondering if you’re the same man at all.”
“Hmm. I don’t know how much you’ve heard about me, but I’m glad to know you’re taking any interest.”
Taking in the calm smile on her husband’s face as he watched her, Byletta was struck with the suspicion that he was in a good mood.
He was a womanizer. And Byletta felt like she was being seduced.
She decided to change the subject. If she continued down this line of conversation, she could be tempted into a sticky swamp indeed.
“I know you’re taking it easy presently, but how is work going?”
“I thought I told you that I have a month’s leave? There’s plenty left. Thank you for asking, though. What are your plans for today?”
“I’m just going to go out for a bit.”
“Where to?”
“Town, but…”
“Do you mind if I join you?”
“Wh-what?”
What did he mean, ‘join her’? They’d been practically attached at the hip during their time at the country estate. Now that she was back in the capital, she wanted the freedom to spread her wings a bit and take a break.
Byletta’s brain ran at a mile a minute, searching for a way to brush him off, but she could think of nothing.
“Um, there’s something I want to buy. Won’t shopping with the fairer sex bore you? I think you should stay home.”
“It’s true, it would be my first time shopping with a woman. There are still a few areas where I’m lacking in that department, I’m sure. But if I can come to understand what my wife likes, then I think the outing would be a productive use of my time. Take me with you—I insist.”
Arnald may have been making his request in a gentlemanly manner, but, though he’d rather upended her understanding of his taciturn nature with his talkativeness, that could not erase his stubborn obsession with forcibly injecting himself into her life.
She needed to put her foot down, or she would end up being pushed around like she had been when they’d gone to the countryside estate.
It seemed Arnald and his father were alike in this: Once either of them made their mind up, they were not inclined to alter their conclusion. The term “gentle tyrant” may have sounded contradictory at first, but it seemed to perfectly describe her husband.
Where was that coldhearted, emotionless husband that her mother-in-law had warned her about? Was the man sitting next to her truly him? Although, even if he wasn’t, how would she, of all people, be able to tell?
Unable to find a nice-sounding excuse with which to refuse him, Byletta ended up agreeing to head into town with her husband.
By the time they had finished breakfast and gotten dressed, it was already midday.
They had agreed to meet in the entrance hall, and as Byletta descended the stairs, she found that Arnald was already loitering there. He was wearing a simple outfit of a light-gray jacket, a pale-blue shirt, and black slacks. That said, no matter what the man wore, he always looked stylish. How could he not, with such a well-proportioned body, tall, slim figure, and long limbs?
His polished look likely had a good amount to do with his tailor as well, but regardless, all it took was a single glance at the man for Byletta to understand why the ladies flocked to him. There was no doubt that he’d be excellent advertising material if she could convince him to wear some of her boutique’s pieces. But before her business brain could fully rear its head, Byletta quashed it back down.
Originally, her plan had been to take a detour from her shopping trip to poke around her textile factory and test out some new dyes, but with Arnald in tow, she found she had to rethink.
What a hassle my day is turning into, she thought as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Then, out of nowhere, she tripped and went catapulting forward.
Thankfully, Arnald immediately stepped in to break her fall.
As always, his clothes made him look quite slim, but Byletta could feel the strong musculature of his arms underneath the fabric. Still, though he was acting kind and had been quick to rescue her, this behavior was the exact reason she’d been so off-kilter in the first place.
“Don’t overexert yourself, now.”
“This is all your fault! If you’d just been able to control yourself last night…”