After scrutinizing the Duke’s face and hands, Sylvian shook his head firmly.
“I’m full. I can’t eat anymore.”
“…Do you always eat this little?”
“Yes!”
Surely now they’ll think I’m useless.
But someday, he’d have his own money and eat as much as he wanted.
For now, going hungry was fine.
At the Viscount’s house, he’d eaten even less.
Already, his stomach ached from the unaccustomed fullness.
“You’re too thin…”
Sylvian’s eyes widened at the Duke’s murmur. …Is he telling me to eat more?
But the sharpness in his gaze as it swept over Sylvian’s body suggested dissatisfaction.
Ah. So it’s going like the original after all.
Relieved, Sylvian rested his hands on his thighs.
He’d stay quiet and obedient until they sent him to the annex.
“Rest in your room today.”
“?”
His mind flooded with question marks at the Duke’s words after the meal.
Why isn’t he sending me away?
Zeroth had left after their wedding night, saying he’d return shortly after taking care of business.
Watching the Duke’s retreating figure, Sylvian sat dumbfounded, wondering why the Duke was acting so differently from the original story.
“Sylvian?”
“Yes.”
Sylvian had been sitting quietly in the chair until the Duke returned.
His lower back ached dully from the strain of the night before, but no one had given him permission to lie down on the bed.
When he greeted the Duke exactly as he had when he left, the Duke frowned and called out to him.
“Have you been sitting there this whole time?”
“…Yes.”
‘What did I do wrong now?’
His mind was still reeling from the inexplicable turn of events—from being abandoned in the annex to suddenly being brought back.
He didn’t even realize his own body was burning up from exhaustion.
Now, standing stiffly beside the Duke, who lounged comfortably on the sofa, Sylvian straightened his posture.
“Why didn’t you lie down on the bed?”
At the repeated question, Sylvian fidgeted with his fingers.
He had been too afraid—what if the Duke took offense and decided to kill him for daring to rest on the bed?
He had been told to behave, but the boundaries of that “behaving” were unclear.
When Sylvian didn’t answer, the Duke’s eyes narrowed.
“Did you not want to lie down?”
As if.
Even now, his back throbbed.
If he could have sprawled on the floor, he would have.
But with all the servants gone and left alone in the room, he hadn’t known what to do.
“N-No, that’s not it.”
The servants had warned him not to act presumptuously yesterday, so the thought of lying on the bed hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“Then why didn’t you rest on the bed?”
The Duke’s displeased tone made Sylvian gulp. Should I tell the truth?
“It’s alright. Speak.”
“I… I didn’t know if I was allowed to.”
“…”
“S-Sorry. I messed up. I should’ve waited outside.”
A sigh escaped the Duke’s lips. Sylvian flinched and bowed his head in apology.
Was that the wrong answer?
When the Duke rose from the sofa, his large shadow engulfed Sylvian.
Eyes squeezed shut, Sylvian clenched his teeth.
Thud.
A hand touched his waist.
“Naturally, as my spouse, you have every right to lie on the bed. Shall we try it now?”
Peeking through his lashes, Sylvian saw the Duke’s lips curl into a smile.
His face flushed.
Damn, he’s handsome.
His heart raced as the Duke’s striking features brightened.
Too bad he’s someone else’s.
Guided by the Duke’s hand, Sylvian sat on the bed.
The plush surface beneath his stiff hips made his expression soften involuntarily.
“This… is the nicest bed I’ve ever felt.”
“Is that so?”
“I-I’m fine sleeping on the floor.”
Back at the Viscount’s estate, his “bed” had been nothing more than a hard wooden frame with a thin blanket—no pillow, just a single sheet wrapped around him.
Compared to that, even the bare floor of the Duke’s mansion was warm enough to sleep on.
“Do I look like the kind of trash who would make my spouse sleep on the floor?”
“I-I just don’t belong here.”
“Who put that idea in your head?”
The Duke’s grin was chilling. Sylvian trembled.
It’s not like that!
Until he was sent to the annex, he had to tread carefully—every move scrutinized.
“Let’s get you properly on the bed.”
The Duke pushed his shoulder, and Sylvian toppled backward with a soft thump.
Eyes wide, he sank into the plush bedding and squeezed them shut again.
Is… is this really okay?
“You are breathing, aren’t you?”
“Hng—y-yes, I am.”
Zeroth stifled a laugh at Sylvian’s rigid posture, as if he might faint any second.
I was planning to send him away if he displeased me, but last night wasn’t bad.
Maybe I’ll keep him around a little longer before discarding him.
The way his little hole had obediently swallowed him down had been cute, too.
“Did the Viscount’s household teach you how to be a proper wife?”
Freeze.
Sylvian’s body locked up at the question.
The Duke’s lips curved.
So untouched.
Should I train him myself?
“My, my. To come into the Duke’s household as an omega without any education…”
Each tsk made Sylvian flinch.
His pitiful expression only fueled the Duke’s interest.
How well can he perform?
“How unfortunate.”
“S-Sorry.”
His voice wavered pathetically.
“I-I can just stay where I was last night.”
“And where would that be?”
The annex. Just say it.
Even the servants had whispered that he’d be thrown there soon.
Why bother making it complicated?
Sylvian suppressed his irritation.
After last night’s ordeal, he really just wanted a place to rest alone.
“You’d prefer the annex?”
“Isn’t that where I’ll end up anyway?”
Sylvian avoided his gaze, indirectly calling out the servants’ loose tongues.
“Hah. For now, let’s say you’ll stay in my chambers.”
Of course, I’ll discard him soon.
Zeroth smirked.
But first, some trash needs taking out.
Sylvian’s words had just signed a death warrant.
“Since you lack a proper education, I’ll have the pleasure of training you myself.”
“Huh?”
“You said you weren’t taught, didn’t you?”
The Duke’s crimson eyes gleamed dangerously.
The unspoken threat—deny it and die—made Sylvian nod hastily.
“Then you’ll obey my lessons, won’t you?”
“Y-Yes!”
Fuck.
I’m screwed.
There was no way this pervert’s “lessons” would be normal.
The original plot’s already derailed.
‘I was supposed to behave for a year before escaping!’
‘If I piss him off now, my neck’s on the line.’
“Since we’re on the topic, let’s begin immediately.”
The Duke yanked him up by the arm.
Too scared to protest, Sylvian obeyed meekly.
“A wife must be pure. She obeys her husband’s commands, submits to earn his love, and reveres him as her master.”
What kind of bullshit is this?
Sylvian nodded vacantly, the Duke’s words going in one ear and out the other.
“When we’re alone, if I call you ‘wife,’ you’ll respond, ‘Yes, Master.’ Understood?”
Are you serious?
‘I’m not even the main character! Why me?!’
Trapped under the Duke’s expectant gaze, Sylvian had no choice but to nod.
“Wife?”
“…Yes.”
Smack!
“Hng!”
“You forgot the title. Say ‘Master.’”
“Y-Yes! M-M-M-Master!”
The sudden slap made his words stumble out in a stutter.
“Again. Wife?”
“Y-Yes, M-Master.”
“Good.”
The Duke’s satisfied smile made Sylvian’s stomach drop.
I’m doomed.
“A wife exists to receive master’s cock. The wife must serve him with pleasure and devotion.”
Sylvian paled at the crude words delivered so casually.
“Do you know what a cock is?”
Shake shake.
‘No. I shouldn’t.’
“This is a cock. You enjoyed it last night, didn’t you?”
When he pulled his hand and placed it over his own crotch, the pale face flushed crimson.
Zeroth found the gap in his composure amusing and deliberately continued with teasing words.
“Then, what do you think a pussy is?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“No way. Not after you devoured your master’s cock so eagerly yesterday.”
Zeroth’s hands, gripping Sylvan’s waist and pulling him close, openly rubbed over the fabric of his pants.
The fingers sliding stickily between his thighs made Sylvan dig his toes into the floor, bracing himself to keep from collapsing against Zeroth’s shoulders.
“The hole that took my cock is your pussy. Since you’re called a bitch-wife, I suppose it’s a bitch’s cunt.”
A dry swallow stuck in Sylvan’s throat as the duke chuckled.
No, no—not S&M!
Zeroth’s hand slipped past the waistband of his pants, gliding smoothly over his underwear.
The heat of his palm through the thin fabric made Sylvan hold his breath.
“What do you call what’s right here?”
“……”
Sylvan’s face burned scarlet, unable to answer.
“My wife is so shy.”
Zeroth didn’t push for more—he was already satisfied just seeing the shame flooding Sylvan’s expression.
No matter. With time and training, he’ll obey my every word perfectly.
“When your master says ‘strip,’ you take everything off. Everything.”
Large hands began loosening his clothes.
Since the ordered outfits hadn’t arrived yet, Sylvan had been given ready-made ones—easy to remove.
As the fabric was pulled upward, Sylvan tensed briefly in resistance—
—but the moment their eyes met, fear flashed across his face, and he lifted his arms obediently.
The elastic-waisted pants were stretched and dragged down along with his underwear, revealing the same pale body from last night.
Marks from their earlier encounter still lingered across his skin.
Watching Sylvan hastily cover himself with his hands, Zeroth smirked in satisfaction.
From the very first night of their marriage, Sylvan had been reduced to tears in Zeroth’s grasp.
