* * *
Zeroth had subtly been calling me “Sylvie” during conversations for a while now.
Even during intimacy, he persistently called me by that name, making me nod in response with a soft hum.
“Isn’t it cute? Sylvie?”
“…My name is Sylvian.”
“It’s the nickname I chose for my wife. It suits you perfectly, Sylvian. Because you’re adorable and lovely.”
Zeroth’s words made my cheeks flush. I was past the age of being called by a nickname.
Seriously.
Not even back at the viscount’s estate had I ever been given one.
After my manifestation, only my youngest sibling was called “Marty,” a name my mother always used fondly.
“Then, what’s your nickname, Zeroth?”
“I don’t have one.”
A nickname?
Who would ever give me such a childish and cringeworthy name?
His mother had jokingly called him “Jerry” once, but since her cold and taciturn son had absolutely despised it, she only used it when she wanted to tease him.
“Hmm.”
Sylvian, hearing his response, fell into thought.
Then I shouldn’t use it either.
The moment the main protagonist appeared, he’d be calling him “Jerry” without hesitation.
I couldn’t steal a name that was meant for the protagonist uke.
“Are you disappointed that I don’t have a nickname?”
Zeroth, watching Sylvian furrow his brows in contemplation, smoothed out his forehead with gentle fingers as he asked.
“You gave me one, so if Zeroth doesn’t have one, it feels unfair.”
Not even a little.
Since entering the ducal household, he had spoken to me with that half-respectful tone and treated me kindly, but just like every main seme in the world, he was a cold and ruthless man burdened with all of life’s hardships.
The classic “cold but warm only to my woman” archetype.
The kind of man so icy and devoid of emotions that he would only melt under the bright sunshine of the main uke.
But for some reason, the author had thrown in an SM twist, which I couldn’t quite understand.
I only read this novel because of the SM tag, but honestly, even without that element, it was an enjoyable story.
Every time the two of them went crazy, spilling blood everywhere, Hansung would flip the pages with a weary expression.
“A nickname, huh. Will you make one for me?”
“Me?!”
It sounded like a death sentence, as if he were asking me to personally hammer in my own demise.
Why should I do something that the main uke was supposed to do?
As Sylvian blinked in shock, Zeroth chuckled softly and bit his lip.
“Give your husband a lovely nickname. I’m looking forward to it.”
You… execution.
Bang, bang.
Zeroth had just issued my death sentence.
Sylvian scrutinized his crimson eyes.
You’re not in love with me, right?
Tell me you’re not.
His red pupils seemed filled with warmth and affection toward me.
This can’t be real.
Absolutely not.
Could I even manage to love this man passionately and then break up with him?
“I’ll think about it carefully.”
Even though I already knew what his nickname would be, I had no choice but to pretend to deliberate so I could buy some time.
“I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Seeing his eyes glow red as they fixed on me, Sylvian swallowed nervously.
I could run, right?
For the first time, he hesitated about Zeroth’s attitude.
Up until now, he had always assumed that Zeroth would easily discard him when the time came.
After all, unless we were physically entangled, he showed no interest in me.
Forcing a smile, Sylvian met Zeroth’s gaze.
Crazy bastard.
Crazy bastard.
Did you like my body that much?
Enough to make nonexistent love suddenly sprout?
All I could do was pray that the main uke would show up soon.
As Zeroth’s face drew closer again, Sylvian instinctively parted his lips to receive him, trembling.
“Hngh.”
Next week, I needed to find the main uke’s parents at the party.
I had to find a way to bring up their son and get Zeroth to return to the capital.
If I stayed like this, I’d end up trapped in the endless abyss of an illicit affair, bound by Zeroth’s hands.
“Haa, tonight, after dinner, let’s have etiquette lessons.”
For the first time in a while, Zeroth brought up the word “lessons.”
Up until now, he’d only mentioned them in passing, explaining bits and pieces here and there.
“H-How…?”
“We’ll start with dining etiquette. You’ll learn the proper manners between spouses as well as how to behave at a formal dinner invitation.”
Sylvian, sensing danger at the mention of lessons, stole a glance at Zeroth, who smiled faintly.
Since every lesson so far had ended with him in tears, it was natural to feel anxious and afraid.
But mere fear wasn’t enough.
When Zeroth spoke of lessons, it had to bring not just tension but also anticipation and excitement.
He kissed Sylvian again.
The mansion was nearby, but there was still enough time to savor the kiss.
“Ngh! Hnn.”
“Normally, you’d wear a dress suited for a formal dinner, but since you’re a man, you’ll need a proper evening suit instead.”
Hearing that, some of his tension eased.
“Since you’ll also be attending the party next week, we should go over the etiquette for social gatherings as well…”
Gulp.
The sound of saliva being swallowed echoed sharply.
It was like watching a well-trained puppy staring at its food, swallowing in anticipation.
As Sylvian’s throat bobbed expectantly, Zeroth chuckled and rested his face against his slender shoulder.
This must be why I can’t let go of this little thing.
Even if his scent attracted pests from all around, I could just kill them all.
Even at the Crown Prince’s palace, when his pheromones leaked uncontrollably, I had to suppress them with my own.
The Crown Prince had smiled as if he understood, but at times, he couldn’t hide his gaze toward Sylvian.
“I-I can do it! I won’t make any mistakes at the party!”
He wasn’t someone who learned ten things from one lesson, but once he learned something, he did it well.
Zeroth pulled him into a tight embrace, patting his trembling body with satisfaction.
“You’ll be punished for every mistake. Do you think you can endure it?”
W-Wait. Was he going to hit me?
Hearing the word “punishment,” Sylvian’s green eyes widened in shock.
“If you do something wrong, you should be disciplined.”
“…Who taught you that?”
It was an obvious statement, but it wasn’t something nobles would normally say.
If a noble child misbehaved, it was common practice for their servant or a punishment slave to take the beating in their place.
But the viscount had personally struck his own son.
Zeroth, feigning surprise, asked in disbelief, “Don’t tell me the viscount punished you himself?”
“N-No!”
With a hiccup, Sylvian’s voice trembled with urgency and fear.
Zeroth grabbed his arms and pulled him upright.
The sudden grip made Sylvian let out a startled hiccup.
“I really wasn’t! But why am I the one getting hit?”
“Because that’s how it is between spouses.”
Sylvian, unable to hide his suspicion, quickly changed the subject.
I wasn’t punished like that, so why are you doing this to me?—his eyes seemed to ask.
But Zeroth, completely unfazed, uttered a blatant lie.
At his shameless response, Sylvian could only tilt his head in confusion.
Why was this such a big deal?
As soon as they returned to the ducal estate, Sylvian changed into proper attire for the etiquette lessons.
White trousers that looked impossible to clean, a violet vest, and an opulent jacket.
Elgana, upon hearing the Duke’s declaration to personally teach his wife table manners, had brought out the finest clothing available.
On top of that, she adorned Sylvian with expensive rings, cufflinks, and every accessory that could add a touch of extravagance.
“Elgana, is all this really necessary?”
“Of course! A banquet is an invisible battlefield.”
The role of a wife was to shine the brightest in that place.
And Sylvian himself had a beauty that would not lose out anywhere.
* * *
