(Chapter 42)
Only two days had passed since Kaelion Arvasyn, the crown prince, left their residence. After his departure, Lorcan Frostborne and Clarisse Faeloria, now Clarisse Faeloria Frostborne, sat in the inevitable awkward silence.
Tonight was the night they had been waiting for, though Clarisse felt more like it was an execution than the beautiful moment that should have been part of their marriage.
"It's time now..."
Kaelion's words echoed in Clarisse's mind again, remembering how the crown prince had genuinely praised Lorcan, calling him a man with a sincere heart behind his cold demeanor. But was it true? Did Lorcan really love her? It was amusing, considering Kaelion himself was struggling with his own love problems with Caelira Duskthorn, his mysterious fiancée.
Clarisse sat silently in their room, already wearing the simple yet elegant evening gown. The gown was her mother Eleanor Faeloria's choice. "I have to forget everything," she murmured, trying to reassure herself. "This is just temporary. It will only hurt for a while," she whispered, mimicking her mother's words.
Her hand reached for the wine glass on the table, trying to calm the burning nervousness. Sip by sip, the liquid flowed, warming her throat but not enough to quell the unease in her heart.
The door to the room opened slowly, revealing Lorcan Frostborne, the Duke of the North. He stepped in calmly, carrying his usual cold aura.
"Are you drinking?" he asked, his brow slightly raised.
Clarisse nodded, not intending to hide it. "I'm too nervous," she answered honestly, though her voice was barely above a whisper.
Lorcan walked closer, sitting beside her at the edge of the bed. He took the glass from her hand, sipping the remaining drink without hesitation. They sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
"Do you feel pressured?" Lorcan's question finally broke the silence.
Clarisse turned to him, surprised by the softer tone of his voice. "Yes?" she replied, confused.
Lorcan sighed deeply, as if trying to find the right words. "I know you're not happy here... marrying me."
Clarisse let out a small, humorless laugh. "Indeed. I'm not happy. That's the truth."
Lorcan didn't overreact. Instead, he smiled faintly, as if he had expected that answer. "But, life in the North isn't as bad as I thought," Clarisse continued, staring blankly at her empty glass. "I don't feel miserable. It's just... this isn't what I dreamed of."
Her words made Lorcan pause for a moment. He had never thought about Clarisse's feelings this deeply. Their silence was interrupted by Clarisse's bitter laugh. "You shouldn't have forced it. Just be kind, and I'll follow whatever you want."
Lorcan lowered his gaze, feeling something prick his ego. "I'm sorry," he muttered almost inaudibly.
Clarisse looked at him, her eyes searching for an answer behind her husband's cold face. "Please... if you want to touch me, don't be rough. And... at least try to be romantic."
Lorcan looked up, staring at Clarisse with an expression that was hard to explain. "I'll try," he replied, this time in a firm tone.
"Really?" Clarisse asked, a little skeptical.
"I've never... done it. So it might not be what you expect."
Clarisse was taken aback, not expecting such an admission from a man like Lorcan Frostborne. She stared at him, searching for certainty behind his words. "You've never... with a woman?"
Lorcan gave a small nod, his face showing no shame, only cold honesty. "Yes."
Clarisse fell silent, unsure if she should believe him. How could someone like Lorcan, a duke who captivated many women, have no experience? Yet, his serious gaze seemed to reassure her of the truth in his words.
Unconsciously, the distance between them closed. Lorcan's intense stare made Clarisse feel like the whole world had disappeared. And suddenly, without warning, their lips met in a kiss that was awkward yet full of curiosity.
Clarisse was surprised, but didn't pull away. In Lorcan's embrace, she felt something different. This man, who had once seemed so distant, now revealed a fragile and human side.