“Lord Arnald and I are very well acquainted, you know. At least, ever since he stopped being a boy. They do say a man never forgets his first time, after all. Although, I guess that’s the last thing I should be telling his wife… I just wanted to see him again, for old times’ sake. I don’t suppose I could borrow him for a bit, could I?”
“I see.”
The honeyed words from the woman’s voluptuous red lips made Byletta feel uncomfortable, but to the ears of a man, they probably would have sounded inviting and pleasant. Yet the fact that she’d gone through the trouble of asking Byletta where Arnald was suggested that she was either declaring war or trying to warn Byletta off.
Byletta wished she could tell the woman she’d gladly accept her challenge, but at the same time, she felt a bitterness rise up inside about her husband’s taste in women.
Why did Carla Rydewall have to be his first?
Especially when girls like Milena existed.
How could he be so indifferent to the sweetness of girls like Milena, yet have liaisons with witches like Carla? Byletta couldn’t help but frown now that she knew her husband’s sexual history.
Carla excused herself, seemingly satisfied with Byletta’s reaction. They’d only spoken for a moment, but the smell of perfume lingered in the air so heavily that Byletta began to feel sick.
As she tried to suppress her disgust, she rushed to the restroom.
Arnald had said that he was going out for some air. When Byletta eventually returned to the venue and made her way out onto the terrace, she soon caught sight of him sequestered in one of the corners.
He was leaning against the rail and talking to someone.
But it wasn’t Carla. She was nowhere to be seen. Feeling a bit relieved, Byletta pondered the reason why. Why was she relieved that Carla wasn’t there? Was it purely because she wouldn’t have to be subjected to that suffocatingly strong smell of perfume again?
“I haven’t seen the countess in a while, but she does come on strong. You handled her well.”
Arnald’s companion was hidden by his shadow, but she could tell the pair were friendly by the tone of their voices. Byletta was hesitant to interrupt a conversation between two old friends, but she was also afraid of hearing something she might not like if she stood there waiting in silence. The best course of action was probably to greet them and then leave. But then again, Arnald would probably worry about her if she simply disappeared into the crowd. Although she supposed it was also possible he wouldn’t even notice.
As Byletta wavered between her options, Arnald replied matter-of-factly to his companion.
“I often find myself around women like her. But you already know that.”
“Hm… That’s right. You even thought your wife was one of her kind… What were you thinking, you woman hater?”
“I wasn’t really thinking of anything at all. I just needed a wife.”
Arnald hated women?
If that was true, why was he refusing to let her go?
Why did she have to endure what he put her through every night?
She’d divorce him if he asked. He knew that she would be more than happy to. He was the one who wanted to stay married.
“Do you not mind since you don’t have to pay to sleep with her? I know it was rough going for you in the war. Too little pocket money and not very many affordable escorts. I was always worried you’d end up with one of mine.”
Arnald didn’t say anything in response but seemed to chuckle. Byletta suddenly felt the atmosphere turn tense.
“But now you get to bed a singular beauty for free, you lucky devil! Your average whore isn’t nearly as blessed in the looks department.”
“Do you think so?”
“We both chose to marry quick before going off to battle, but now there’s a marriage boom. Did you hear about that boor Heinz? Even he received a proposal. And so have many of the returnees. It seems you’re only at a disadvantage if you didn’t make it back with a pulse. Plus, all those widows are inflating the market as well. Any military man seems to be a big catch. I wonder if I might’ve found myself a prettier wife had I just waited a little longer…”
“Do looks really matter?”
“A prettier wife is better. Not that I’d ever find a wife prettier than you, of course.”
“Enough of that.”
“You really hate to be handsome, don’t you? Now that you mention it, weren’t you targeted by the head of District Two?”
“I politely declined.”
“I think I heard that General Dreslan was quite influential, but the truth gets completely mangled after a while.”
Finished listening to the pair catch up, Byletta slowly walked away.
At some point, she found herself in the courtyard.
As she walked around in a daze, she came across a bench and decided to sit down. That’s when she finally let out the heavy sigh she’d been keeping pent up inside her. It seemed like she’d forgotten to even breathe properly.
She hadn’t expected much of anything from her husband. She’d stopped expecting anything from men back in the academy and had been desperate to become the kind of woman who didn’t have to rely on anybody after that.
She hated that her value changed depending on the whims of men.
But why was she feeling so shocked right now?
What was it?
Was it because she was being treated like a whore? Was it because people saw her as an empty-headed bimbo?
No, she knew it was neither of those.
She had been so happy when Arnald had resolutely defended her against Emilio. Even though he’d known the rumors about her, his attitude hadn’t changed. He hadn’t looked down on her or accused her of impudence. He hadn’t frowned upon her unwomanly pursuit of the sword, either. All he’d done was praise her and tell her how impressive she was.
She’d been truly happy. She’d begun to trust him.
He was the first man to ever raise her hopes.