264: Their wedding night (final)

Their wedding night (final)

"A bath sounds quite appealing now, yes," she responded.1

As she attempted to sit up, a wince crossed her features.

"Don't move," Egon's command was gentle yet firm. His energy seemed to radiate, contrasting sharply with the signs of discomfort Adela was experiencing. The bed shifted beside her, and in the blink of an eye, he was standing beside her, arms extended forward.

Her heart fluttered as she met his extended arms. With a soft smile, she accepted his offer, her hand slipping into his, he effortlessly lifted her into his embrace.

"I will carry you there."

As his gaze fell upon the bed covers, a subtle crease formed between his brows. When her own eyes followed his line of sight, the reason became apparent.

"Oh…"

She looked away, mortified, the blood stain on the creamy bedcovers was proof that what the two of them experienced just now was very real.

"We won't be needing those," he declared, swiftly pulling the covers from the bed and letting them fall onto the polished wooden floor. "I'll ensure you're kept warm."

Her smile emerged, a blend of amusement and embarrassment at his earnestness. The maids whom the Archduchess would send in the morning would surely handle these details.

With Adela cradled in his arms, Egon stepped out of their chamber, a small smile warming his features as he looked down at his wife while they traversed the brief corridor. 

"You're accustomed to having a bathroom adjacent to your quarters, but I wanted to create something special for us."

The next room awaited on the left side, the only other chamber along this corridor.

Crossing the threshold of the room felt like crossing into an alternate kingdom. An artificial yet tranquil energy pervaded, setting this space apart from the rest of the renovated house beside Lanark's Forest.

Under a soaring dome, a masterpiece of mosaic work delighted Adela's eyes, the first rays of sunlight piercing the dome through the narrow apertures. And at the heart of the chamber was a grand hexagonal bathtub, its perimeter framed with hand-painted tiles, each telling stories of jasmines in full bloom and rivers that flowed around them.

"Mana-infused currents flow beneath the marbled floor, you'll have a constant supply of clean and warm water," he assured her with a proud tone.

Approaching the bath, Egon lowered his wife into the embrace of the warm, inviting water. With one arm, he supported her back, cradling her gently in his careful hold.

A slight hiss escaped her lips as the water reached a spot of soreness, but the discomfort was fleeting. As the mana-infused water worked its magic, she felt her muscles relax, her fingers curling in the water with a sense of contentment.

"Stay still," his command was firm as he reached for a basket placed conveniently nearby. Retrieving a cloth imbued with the scent of lavender — the very oil she used in her own bath — his intent was clear.

"Recline," he said, his tone a little too dry for her liking.

Turning to face him, she saw him seated at the tub's edge, and her wordless query hung between them.

What is wrong? 

Egon's dark eyes squeezed shut, a furrow etching its way across his forehead again. An agitated vein pulsed, an unwelcome guest on his temple. With a flick of frustration, he cast the cloth into the water, its descent marked by unnecessary force.

"Why didn't you stop me? It's evident you're in pain."

Adela knew that a certain amount of pain was expected for a few days, but his question demanded an honest response.

"It was manageable. Truly. I don't know how your previous experiences went, but…" 

"Enough!"

A wave of sadness washed over her. His interruption, a wall between her words and his understanding, stung worse than her body did, a reminder of their past misunderstandings.

No. I am his wife now.

Gently rising from the water, her body arched toward him. She enfolded him in a tender embrace, her arms cinched around his waist with all the strength she could muster. Gradually, the tension in his muscles began to fade away, the sound of water droplets falling from her damp hair echoed within the bath's confines.

"Let's not argue," she whispered vulnerably.

He exhaled, a release of tension that seemed to echo her sentiment.

"Adelaide, it appears you've entered this marriage carrying certain preconceptions. I want you to set aside all that anyone else has said. I want us to carve our path, free from external influences."

She looked up at him, preplexed, and then gulped down when she felt his male parts increasing in size and hardness pressed against her breasts. 

"I won't touch you while you are sore…I am not an animal!" He exclaimed, startling her.

She let go of him and took a step behind, it was this entirely new world of learning about a man's body, she found herself sympathizing with the other sex, it must be hard to be visibly aroused at times like this.

"Adelaide."

He slid down the edge of the bathtub and then stood towering over her, his sculptured body, his bronze skin beneath the early morning rays, and his very erect member that throbbed when her eyes continued to trail down… It was altogether, extremely arousing. 

Maybe men and women were not that different after all.

He drew her closer then held her lightly, as if she would break otherwise.

"...Perhaps serious conversations call for a bit more clothes," he mumbled above her head. Shaking his own head, he pressed on, "I know it might be commonplace for you to discuss your first time and such matters with other women. But I want you to understand that many of these Emorian customs don't sit well with me."

Both, the way he held her and his words struck the wrong chord. Her hand touched the part of his abdomen where his scar faded, and she pushed herself back, meeting his gaze.

"Please, elaborate." 

He nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "If there's been any notion that you must endure pain for my sake, or that you should withhold your feelings about the experience... I don't like this. It immensely bothers me."

Her head shook fervently, the mismatch between her conversation with the Baroness and his perception striking her. "No, Egon, it's not how it was at all."

He raised an eyebrow, "Why didn't you stop me then?"

"I... I wanted you to enjoy it as well," she admitted.

He rubbed his stubble thoughtfully, "I thought I had communicated that quite clearly."

Her gaze lowered, "It was my first time, and I'm learning. I want to become... skilled, like..." she paused, her words halting before they fully formed, a self-doubt she dared not acknowledge aloud. And what she didn't utter turned into a vivid image in her mind.

An idealized Kolihsan woman, confident and experienced, in bed with Egon.

Adela's heart throbbed.

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