Chapter 25: First Day as Newlywed Couple
Morning
The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains of the glass windows, soft and golden, casting warm stripes across the bedroom floor. The room was quiet except for the gentle sound of breathing, the rise and fall of two bodies tangled together beneath the duvet.
Dust motes floated in the sunbeams, dancing lazily in the stillness.
Keres’s arm was draped over Asteria’s waist, her fingers loosely curled against the fabric of Asteria’s sleepwear. Asteria’s head rested in the crook of Keres’s neck, her dark hair spread across the pillow like a halo. Their legs were intertwined beneath the covers, and the space between them had disappeared entirely, as if even in sleep, they had sought each other out.
For Asteria, that was the first time she slept so peacefully and blissfully.
There were no nightmares. No flashbacks. No waking up in a cold sweat with her heart pounding and her hands reaching for something that weren’t there.
No trembling in the darkness, waiting for a door to burst open. Just this warmth and the steady pace of someone breathing beside her.
When she stirred and her eyes fluttered open, the first thing she saw was Keres.
At first, she was taken aback. Her body tensed, and a gasp almost left her lips before she caught it, pressing her hand against her mouth.
She had forgotten—forgotten where she was, forgotten what had happened last night, forgotten that Keres had pull her out of the closet and promised to keep her safe.
But slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the morning light and her mind caught up with her body, she felt the warmth of her presence.
Not the warmth of the duvet or the sunlight streaming through the curtains. The warmth of Keres. The warmth of someone who had never held her like this.
So close, so secure and so comfortable. It was foreign and strange, but not unpleasant. It was like being wrapped in a blanket she didn’t know she needed, like finding shelter in a storm she had been weathering alone for years.
Asteria couldn’t help but lean more toward Keres. She moved slowly, afraid of waking her. As she shifted, their faces came closer—mere inches apart. She could feel Keres’s breath on her skin, soft and warm, smelling faintly of mint and something else she couldn’t name.
Something clean and expensive, like the perfume section of a department store. Suddenly, Asteria had the sudden urge to touch Keres’s face.
Her hand lifted, hovering in the air. She wanted to trace Keres’s eyebrow—dark and perfectly shaped. She wanted to touch her high nose bridge, which was attractive as hell, strong and elegant, the kind of nose that belonged on a Roman statue.
As Asteria had a closer look, she noticed things she had never allowed herself to see before. Keres’s skin was flawless, smooth and pale, without a single blemish or scar. Her lashes were long, casting small shadows under her eyes.
Her lips were red and kissable despite how many times she sipped from a cigarette, slightly parted in sleep.
Asteria just... Wanted...
She didn’t know what she wanted. She just knew that her hand was moving closer, that her heart was beating faster, that something inside her was waking up and reaching out.
Until Keres opened her eyes.
Asteria’s hand froze mid-air. Their gazes locked—Keres’s eyes was suddenly sharp and alert. She gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. She had not expected Keres to wake up or expected to be caught. Her hand hung there, suspended between them like evidence of a crime.
Keres’s hand shot up and caught her wrist, gripping it firmly. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was already angry, rough with sleep but no less sharp. There was no warmth in her gaze now—just cold threat.
"Who gave you permission to touch me?"
Asteria flinched. Her whole body seemed to shrink, trying to take up less space, trying to disappear into the mattress.
"U-Uhm... N-No~ I... I didn’t mean to, I... I’m sorry." The words stumbled out of her, tripping over each other, her voice shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Keres’s grip tightened for a moment, then loosened. She didn’t let go, but she didn’t squeeze harder either. Her thumb rested against Asteria’s pulse point, and she could feel it racing—thump, thump, thump—like a hummingbird trapped in a cage.
"The next time I catch you doing something like this," Keres said, her voice low and threatening, "I’ll make sure to put you in your place."
Asteria nodded frantically, her eyes wide, her lips trembling. "Y-Yes, I... I’m sorry." She said it again, as if repeating it might make the apology more sincere, more acceptable. Her wrist was still in Keres’s grip, and she didn’t dare pull away.
Keres released her wrist and sat up on the bed, running a hand through her disheveled hair. Her white long sleeves polo was wrinkled from sleeping in it, the buttons straining slightly across her chest. Her vest hung open, and her hair was a mess—tangled and falling across her face. She looked tired, irritated, and something else—something Asteria couldn’t read.
"Last night was another mistake." Keres muttered, more to herself than to Asteria. "Fuck."
Asteria’s panic returned. She clutched the duvet to her chest, her eyes darting down to check her body beneath the blanket. Her sleepwear duster was still intact—the buttons were all done up, the fabric was smooth and unwrinkled. Keres was not naked either. She was fully dressed, still in her clothes from the day before.
"W-What... W-What h-happened last night?" Asteria’s voice was high and anxious, her knuckles white where she gripped the blanket.
Keres glanced at her, then looked away. Her jaw tightened. "Hey, I didn’t touch you." Her voice was slightly defensive rather than angry, almost like she was offended by the accusation of Asteria’s gaze. "You’re delusional."
Asteria felt a wave of relief wash over her. It was so strong that her shoulders sagged, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. She pulled the duvet up higher, hiding the lower half of her face behind it, only showing her eyes to Keres.
She looked like a scared child peeking out from behind a blanket, and Keres almost scoffed.
But then she remembered she was supposed to be pissed at her.
"Fuck! Stop acting like that!" Keres’s voice was sharp, but it wasn’t quite a yell. It was the voice of someone who was frustrated and didn’t know what to do with it, someone who was used to controlling everything but couldn’t control this.
Today was their first day as a newlywed couple. Keres hadn’t even changed her clothes last night. She had fallen asleep in her vest and dress shirt, her shoes kicked off somewhere by the door, her watch still on her wrist.
Asteria couldn’t hide the flushed cheeks she was having right now, the heat spreading across her face like wildfire.
"K-Keres—" Asteria started.
Keres turned to look at her, her eyes hard. "What?!"
Asteria flinched again, but she pushed forward. "Are we going to your parents’ mansion today? Last night, they told me that we’ll do the formal wedding at the—"
"Don’t even dream about it." Keres’s voice was cold, cutting like a blade through silk. "Remember your place, Auclair. Our marriage is purely transactional. I keep you so I can protect my image, and you marry me to protect you from your family." She stood up from the bed, her movements sharp and angry. "Don’t even dare cross the line."
She picked up her white suit jacket from the chair where she had draped it last night and walked toward the door without looking back. Her footsteps were heavy on the floor, each one a punctuation mark and a reminder of exactly where Asteria stood.
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Asteria sat alone in the bed, her hands still clutching the duvet, her eyes fixed on the door. Keres’s words stung her heart—not because they were new, but because they were familiar.
Her past three husbands had never failed to remind her to stay where she belonged. To stay in her rightful place. To stop taking up too much space and stop having high expectations about them.
They made sure she’ll expect nothing except to be discarded the moment they were done with her.
She had heard it all before. And yet, it still hurt.
Outside the door, Keres leaned against the wall and exhaled slowly. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath. Her heart was beating faster than it should, and her hands were shaking slightly—not from anger, but from something else. Something she didn’t want to name and something that felt too much like guilt.
She didn’t know why she was like this. Everything she showed Asteria was just her stupidity, her inability to be anything other than cold and cruel. She had held her last night. She had comforted her, promised to protect her, wiped her tears. She had sat with her in the dark closet and held her until she stopped shaking. And this morning, she had snapped at her for something as small as almost touching her face.
"Fuck." Keres muttered under her breath and walked toward her bedroom—the main master’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
~~~•••~~~
Eisenthurn Mansion
After a few hours, Keres and Asteria arrived at the Eisenthurn mansion again.
The drive had been quiet, filled with silence that wasn’t comfortable but wasn’t hostile either. Keres was the one who personally drove the black G-Wagon car, her hands steady on the wheel, her eyes fixed on the road.
She rarely drove herself—she had drivers for that, men who were paid to sit behind the wheel while she sat in the back and made phone calls. But today she wanted to be alone. Or maybe she just wanted to be the one in control.
She wore a black trousers, pressed and crisp, and a maroon vest over a black long-sleeved shirt. A golden watch caught the light whenever she moved, flashing like a signal. Her cufflinks were made of gold too, embossed with the Eisenthurn crest—a eagle with spread wings.
She looked powerful, commanding, like she belonged on the cover of a business magazine, like she could walk into any room and own it without saying a word.
Asteria sat in the front passenger seat beside her. She wore simple white long sleeves, a beige vest that matched the color of her flowing skirt, and white rubber shoes instead of heels.
Keres had let her wear the rubber shoes because—whether Keres wanted to admit it or not—she wanted Asteria to be comfortable.
She had noticed how Asteria walked in heels, stiff and unnatural, like she was bracing for a fall. In rubber shoes, she moved more freely, more naturally.
As a newlywed couple, they had prepared a simple gift for their parents—a box of fine chocolates from a Belgian chocolatier and a bottle of expensive wine from a vineyard in France, wrapped in gold paper and tied with a white ribbon. It was sitting in the backseat, untouched.
Keres glanced at Asteria from the corner of her eye. Asteria was smiling while looking outside the window, watching the trees pass by, her expression soft and peaceful.
The morning light caught her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the softness of her lips. Something about that smile made Keres’s chest feel tight.
"Do you want me to open the window?" Keres asked, her hand reaching for the button on the door, ready to roll it down for her.
Asteria looked at her, startled by the question. "N-No~ it’s okay, Ms. Keres." Her voice was timid, apologetic, like she was afraid of being a bother.
Keres’s jaw tightened. "Don’t call me that."
Asteria blinked. "Huh?"
"Call me Keres." Keres’s voice was firm but not angry. "Or my parents will kill me if you call me so formal in front of them. They’ll think I’m mistreating you."
Asteria looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting together. She looked shy, but to Keres, she looked like a wounded animal—someone who couldn’t even speak without expecting to be punished.
Everything she said, she would retreat and make herself small again, like she was apologizing for existing.
"Tsk." Keres clicked her tongue. "Don’t do that. You look stupid."
There was no bite to her words—just irritation, just frustration. But for Asteria, those words landed differently. Years of conditioning had taught her that any criticism was a threat, any raised voice was a prelude to pain. So she nodded, and her smile faded.
"S-Sorry~ I didn’t mean to do it~" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Keres cursed under her breath and stopped the engine in front of the mansion’s door entrance. The car shuddered once and fell silent.
Keres took off her seatbelt and opened her door, but when she looked over, Asteria was still sitting in her seat, fumbling with the buckle. Her fingers were slipping, pressing the wrong places, unable to find the release button. She looked frustrated and embarrassed, her cheeks flushing pink.
"U-Uhm... K-Keres? H-How do you—" Asteria’s voice was flustered.
Keres walked around the car and opened Asteria’s door. The morning air rushed in, cool and fresh, carrying the scent of roses from the garden.
She leaned across Asteria’s body—close enough that Asteria could smell her perfume, something woody and expensive—and reached for the seatbelt reactor. Her finger pressed the red button, and the seatbelt released with a soft click.
"Always remember," Keres said, her voice low, "press this red button." She pointed to it. "If you want to put the seatbelt back on, just slide it like this, and when you hear the click—"
CLICK.
She slid the seatbelt back into place, and it clicked loudly in the silence of the car.
"—just like that." Keres turned to look at Asteria, their faces close. "That’s how you do it. Now you try."
Keres stepped back, giving Asteria room. Asteria reached for the seatbelt, her fingers trembling slightly, and slid it back. When she heard the click, her eyes widened in awe, and she almost gasped. It was such a small thing, but to her, it felt like an accomplishment.
Then she tried to press the release button. But her fingers were too weak, or too nervous, or both. She pressed and pressed, but the button wouldn’t budge.
"Uhm. I can’t—" Asteria looked at Keres, embarrassed and nervous.
Keres gently held her hand and guided her fingers to the reactor. Her touch was warm, steady, patient. "Just relax," she said softly. "Your hand is shaking." She paused, looking directly into Asteria’s eyes. "It’s okay. It’s just a seatbelt."
Asteria’s heart thumped loudly against her ribcage.
"Take your time," Keres continued. "It will stay there. It won’t run or judge you." She paused again, and her voice dropped to something almost gentle. "And I won’t hurt you."
Asteria stared at her, frozen. No one had ever said those words to her before.
I won’t hurt you.
It was such a simple promise, and yet it felt like the most significant thing anyone had ever said. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she blinked them back.
She looked down at their hands—Keres’s fingers wrapped around hers, guiding her to the button—and pressed.
The seatbelt released.
"Oh!" Asteria’s face lit up, her eyes bright with excitement. "I did it!" She looked at Keres like a child showing off a drawing to a parent, proud of something so small and yet so significant.
Her whole face transformed when she smiled like that—no fear, no hesitation, just pure joy.
She stepped out of the car, and before Keres could step back, Asteria threw her arms around her and hugged her.
Keres stiffened. Her whole body went rigid. She wasn’t used to affection from anyone except her parents. Physical touch, for her, was usually a precursor to violence or sex—never just comfort. Her arms hung at her sides, unsure of what to do.
"What are you doing?" Keres asked, her voice flat.
Asteria didn’t let go. "My friend, Tessa," she said, her voice muffled against Keres’s chest. "She taught me that this is called a hug." She paused, and Keres felt her smile against her shirt. "And it’s comforting!"
Keres wanted to push her away. She wanted to step back and tell Asteria to remember her place, to not cross the line, to keep her distance. But something stopped her. Something about the way Asteria held her—so genuine, unguarded, and so completely without fear—made her hesitate.
She noticed how Asteria’s behavior had immediately changed. From the timid adult who flinched at every word to a carefree childlike woman who hugged without permission.
It was like seeing a different person—someone who had been buried so deep beneath layers of trauma and fear that even she had forgotten she existed.
So Keres adjusted a little. She wrapped her arm around Asteria’s waist and pulled her more into the hug. Her other hand gently held the back of Asteria’s head, her fingers threading through her hair.
"Is this enough?" Keres asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
Asteria also became quiet. She felt something warm stirring inside her—not the usual butterflies that people talked about in books, but something deeper.
A warm feeling that pooled in her stomach and spread through her chest. It was comforting. It made her feel safe.
"Hnnng~ it feels good~" Asteria pressed her cheek against Keres’s chest and tightened the hug a little.
Keres almost let out a sound of pleasure and comfort, but she caught it before it escaped. She couldn’t show weakness. She couldn’t show that she liked this. But she didn’t push Asteria away either.
"Thank you, Keres." Asteria’s voice was soft, muffled against Keres’s shirt. "For being a little different."
Keres didn’t answer immediately. She just stood there, holding Asteria in the morning sunlight, wondering when exactly her heart had started beating for someone she was supposed to hate.
