This Marriage Will Surely Succeed

Iona licked her parched lips and pulled the man in front of her into a tight embrace.

Though she pretended to rationally push him away, the truth was, she didn’t want to stop either.

The heat radiating from his body fit hers perfectly, as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle.

Oddly enough, just the act of accepting him brought a clumsy sense of fulfillment.

Leroy, who had been pressing light kisses along her jawline, buried his face into her neck and let out a deep sigh.

The sensation of his warm breath brushing her skin made her nerve endings tingle.

Through their closely pressed chests, it felt as though she could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Iona whispered in a breathy voice, almost like a soft moan.

“I love you.”

For a moment, she felt his shoulders stiffen under her touch.

One of the benefits of a successful confession was that she no longer had to hesitate or hold back her feelings.

Iona exhaled a trembling breath, murmuring in a daze, “I love it… so much… Ah…”

Leroy responded as though savoring her confession, covering her lips with his.

Her waist, gripped tightly in his hands, turned red, faint marks blooming on her skin.

Though she felt a faint sting, before she could say anything, Leroy quickly loosened his grip, realizing his mistake.

Even if he hadn’t stopped, it was unlikely Iona would have told him to.

“Mm…”

The two figures, who had moved in sync, froze momentarily before gradually relaxing into each other again.

Still entwined, Leroy lingered, savoring the moment.

Eventually, he propped himself up and pulled away from her, the contentment on his relaxed face evident.

As Iona’s legs, weak and trembling, came together, Leroy gently massaged her calves with his large hands.

The tension in her muscles slowly unwound, leaving her feeling blissfully languid.

Exhausted, Iona blinked blankly, her body limp and motionless for a while.

Leroy leaned down, pressing his lips lightly against her sweat-slicked shoulder as he asked,

“Shall we shower together?”

“If I soak in warm water… I feel like I’ll fall asleep right away,” she mumbled.

“I won’t let you sleep.”

Leroy’s low laugh rumbled from his throat, a playful tone that was uncharacteristic of him.

But given how he had pushed her to her limits recently, it didn’t feel like a mere joke.

Iona looked at him seriously and asked, “Are you secretly taking some kind of energy booster or something?”

“Why would you suddenly ask that?”

“It’s just… I’m not exactly weak when it comes to stamina, you know…”

Iona was about to add that this level of endurance seemed almost inhuman when she suddenly stopped herself.

If she openly admitted to struggling, and he decided to ease up or reduce the frequency, she knew she’d end up feeling oddly disappointed.

Quickly, Iona shifted her approach.

“Anyway, I think I need to work harder, too.”

“I’m not the selfish kind of man who’d leave my exhausted wife behind to take care of myself,” Leroy said with a chuckle.

“Then are you secretly doing some kind of workout on the side?”

“Are you interrogating me now?” Leroy teased, his tone playful.

He reached out and gently smoothed down her disheveled hair, his gaze warm and affectionate as he looked down at her.

Realizing her unkempt appearance, Iona flushed and covered her face, embarrassment flooding her.

She hadn’t even noticed earlier, when she’d been swept up in the moment, that her voice was half gone, raspy from exertion.

‘I’m practically a beast,’ she thought bitterly.

The constant sparks flying between them, coupled with their lack of restraint, made her feel like she was living on pure instinct.

There were plenty of tasks piling up, but when immediate pleasure loomed so close, everything else faded into insignificance.

It was almost laughable to think back to her past as the “unyielding knight,” celebrated for her self-discipline and unwavering focus.

While she was now half-dazed and distracted, the burden of dealing with the aftermath fell to the ever-loyal servants.

As usual, this morning someone had come to the couple’s bedroom to hurry them along.

Knock, knock.

The unwanted visitor announced themselves with a polite knock, their voice calm but insistent.

“Master, Madam, if you want to arrive on time, you’ll need to rise now.”

Only then did Iona recall the schedule she had half-forgotten.

Today was the day she was supposed to visit Viscount Ida’s estate and observe Dieter’s swordsmanship training.

She felt no real responsibility for a disciple who lacked both talent and passion, but since she’d used the guise of training to approach him, she at least needed to put on a convincing act.

Reluctantly, Iona sat up, her movements sluggish.

She called out for a maid to prepare bathwater, her voice carrying through the room, before turning to Leroy with a tired expression.

“Are you coming along today as well?”

“That should go without saying,” he replied smoothly.

“I thought you might skip this time, especially since it seems like you’re behind on your work. You could just send Fin in your place.”

Iona gave him an apologetic look, guilt tugging at her.

The more time he spent with her, the less time he had for managing estate matters. She couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious about it.

After all, the “successful married life” she’d envisioned had leaned more toward public accomplishments than private indulgences.

Not that her current lifestyle was bad—far from it—but it was undeniably far removed from the practical path she had originally planned.

“Visiting trade partners and inspecting their progress is part of my duty as a lord,” Leroy said with a soft laugh, as though the idea amused him.

His tone was gentlemanly, but Iona couldn’t shake the feeling that she glimpsed something deeper in his words, an unspoken sentiment beneath his polished demeanor.

As she watched him pick up a robe from the floor and slip it on, Iona abruptly grabbed his wrist.

Her expression was hesitant, almost wary, as she asked, “Are you still worried about Dieter?”

Leroy didn’t immediately respond with a yes or no, instead gazing quietly at Iona with an inscrutable smile playing on his lips.

Allowing himself to be gently pulled, Leroy climbed onto the bed, one knee resting on the mattress as his upper body leaned closer to her.

“My dear wife seems far too comfortable calling another man’s name,” he said softly.

“…”

“And yet, oddly enough, she’s never once called her husband by his name.”

The unexpected observation left Iona flustered.

She averted her eyes, stammering, “That’s… well…”

“That’s what?”

“…a rather improper thing to do.”

Iona tried to imagine herself calling him by his name. Though she held it dearly in her heart, saying it aloud felt like an entirely different matter.

Calling Fin or Dieter by their names was easy—they were her subordinates, after all. But addressing Leroy, her husband, by his name felt… strange.

Leroy, however, seemed to have a different opinion.

“It’s curious,” he said with a hint of regret, “how you insist on addressing me by my title every time. Anyone would think I’m your superior, not your husband.”

“If you wish for me to call you by your name, I can, but… I don’t really see why it’s necessary,” Iona replied hesitantly.

“Does there need to be a reason? It’s hardly a difficult thing to do.”

Reaching out, Leroy cupped her face with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her temple in a soothing motion.

The simple touch made Iona’s thoughts start to align with his, almost without her realizing it.

She couldn’t understand why he was making such a request, but neither could she find a reason to refuse.

“Leroy…” she said hesitantly, swallowing nervously.

“…Your Grace,” she quickly added.

“Your Grace?”

“It’s a sign of respect.”

“That sounds awfully distant.”

Leroy’s expression shifted into one of amused disapproval.

Iona felt mildly aggrieved but steeled herself to try again.

“Leroy…”

“No ‘sir,’ no ‘mister,’ and no other formalities,” he cut her off firmly, leaving her momentarily frozen.

She had unconsciously been about to attach another title, but his interruption had stopped her short.

Swallowing again, Iona sneaked a glance at him.

She thought her attempt should have sufficed, but his expectant gaze told her otherwise.

Finally, she spoke his name again, this time with more certainty.

“Leroy.”

“…”

“…Would you like me to say it again?”

Her eyes darted to his face, checking his reaction, but the situation was already making her self-conscious. Standing there, half-dressed and caught in such a trivial argument, she felt her cheeks flush.

“No, just keep saying it like that.”

Leroy’s hand slid from her face to the back of her neck, gently supporting her as he tilted her head back.

He leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss that melted seamlessly into their shared breaths, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

--- End Of The Chapter ----

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