Become The Duke's Wife Or Die

Clumsy. Their hands, Lyra and Duke Kleo's, often touched while trying to pick up the dinner menu that was on the table. Their gazes met accidentally, then brought them to a time where their tongue danced in the cavity, sinking to the throat, smoldering to the bottom.

It was the moment that exploded like a gushing larva, then shook the ground including their defenses.

Their heartbeats suddenly increased quite drastically, making their faces turn red. That sensation ushered in the night as they trembled together in the hotel room. Looking away, they became more careful if they wanted to take the dinner menu on the table so that the slightest skinship never happened again.

Mr. Bertus raised an eyebrow. 'They do have a special relationship.'

A silent dinner, only lit up by the candle flame in the corner of the room. Some rooms in Wereal still use candles to illuminate the room, or rather as an aesthetic flicker.

Lyra had been looking awkward all along, looking for a way so she could open a conversation with Duke Kleo. What did she expect? Anything but having to be punished, much less marrying a duke. It was a disaster!

In the end, she failed to find any way to lighten the mood, or just to start a conversation. Her tongue was numb as if frozen after their intense kiss just a moment ago. Hey, don't remember that again!

'Wake up, Lyra! You want to run away tonight, right? So why should you be thinking hard about how to start a conversation with him? Wouldn't it be great if you two weren't involved in any of the conversations? Especially during this very warm and romantic situation? You're frail with romance aren't you?' she thought, glancing around the corners of the room, where the candles were beautifully lit. 'Oh, why must Duke Kleo give me such a romantic dinner?' she continued miserably.

Dinner was over. Lyra got up first, and quickly exited the dining hall, as if she were at a party she didn't want. Duke Kleo was the same. He felt like he was at a party he didn't want to be, with a girl who was getting a lot of his attention. He wanted to come closer, but there was no courage left.

His eyes quivered as he watched Lyra's narrow back move away. His lips parted and his finger reached inside the void. 'Why does she want to leave so quickly?' he thought gloomily, wishing she was still with him, then conversed even if it was just small talk. They have to get married soon, right? Then why does she keep avoiding him?

His body got up to go to his room, sat leaning on the back of the bed, staring blankly at his legs. "After all, I'm the only person who wants to get married here. She doesn't want to marry me, but she must do it." His lips pursed. "But can she at least do the right thing? She already slept with me!" His hands ruffled his hair in frustration, his head tilted to the ceiling.

Meanwhile, in her room, Lyra waited until it was quite late until her two maids left her. She was pretending to be asleep. She would run away that night no matter what.

After the excessively passionate kissing incident in the duke's room, she returned to her room confused. A second later, like a lunatic, she scanned every corner of the room to see if there was any door for her to escape.

As she expected…. there is not any.

So she thought of another way.

The moon flashed in the sky, like a single neon light that was too bright. Its silver luster fell across the earth, causing whatever it was shining on to seem gray. Lyra's face was blown by the wind of the palace window. Maybe she could escape through the window, but she didn't have a very long material to slide down into. In addition, several guards were patrolling under her window, as if they knew her petty mind.

So she asked the two guards at her door to do the task. A guard was asked to call her maids because she pretended to be afraid to sleep alone. While another guard was assigned to fetch water.

"Please! Don't go away for long, you understand right?" Lyra's words were like magic in their eyes. Her innocent-looking expression showed honesty, without them knowing how long she had trained herself to be able to express herself convincingly.

As the two guards left to do their task, she came out of her room, sneaking in masterfully.

At night Wereal looks like tanzanite, which looks dark but gives off a pretty blue glow. The flickering of the torches, the reflection of the statue of the fountain, the gleaming spire that clashed with the moon that always positioned itself not far from the palace, made Wereal seem like a place for the noblest of the most glorious and blessed by the universe.

"I'll probably miss Wereal even if I've only been here half a day. I will never forget the sensation of being a noble who is served and respected," she whispered.

On the other side, Duke Kleo rolled over restlessly, trying to find the right position to sleep in. He even turned 180°, spread his arms, lay on his stomach, sat, ran, and even did strenuous exercise just so he could fall asleep and fall asleep. But all his efforts were in vain. And the reason was only one.

"Why do I keep thinking about her?" he roared, rolling over on the bed so violently that the blankets and pillows scattered all over the floor. "Why do I keep thinking about her? Why do I keep wanting to see her? And want to be with her?" His hands punched the mattress repeatedly, while his head sank into his arms. Tired of ambushing him soon after.

His body crawled, his hands pulled the drawer of the table that was located beside the bed, and found an ointment for wounds. He grabbed it, squeezing it very tightly, while his mind was busy with various things.

Then he stood firmly, nodding. "I'm going to meet her! I don't care what she thinks but I will meet her! I just need sleep and only she can help me."

His feet ran through his bedroom door, leaving two guards who were shocked to see him come out. His eyes were full of determination as he mumbled a few things.

"Hey, your wound looks pretty bad. I brought medicine for you." He shook his head, hearing the soft silly tone of his words just now.

"Ehem. A duke's wife must not have a wound. Take this medicine!" This time his tone was firm and horrifying, it should have put Lyra into a corner. But once again he shook his head. "She might just hurt herself so she can't marry me."

His brain was working again, too hard, in the middle of his running legs. Then he said, "Take this medicine! Or you will die!" His lips lifted, feeling himself very cool. He knew Lyra would take the medicine from him without asking much. Most importantly she is fine, and the wound should heal soon.

He was almost at Lyra's door when his eyes caught something odd. There were two confused-looking soldiers in front of Lyra's room, as well as two maids serving her.

"What is it?" he asked, returning to his stiff, violent tone.

Everyone looked scared, their heads lowered as if ready to be executed. Their shoulders were tense, shaking, numb. Sweat dripped down their faces, running down their tailbones. If that night they died, what was their last wish? One by one they thought about their last wish as if death would come true right then and there.

Until one of the maids dared to raise her face, whispered stuttering, "Mi-Miss Lyra ran away, My…."

Duke Kleo didn't need to hear anything else. He knew what was going on right now, what disaster he was facing right now.

Spontaneously his legs turned to leave, darting off like a turbo engine. Many times, he almost slipped when he ordered all the soldiers around to look for Lyra.

"Find her! Find Lyra!" he roared as if torn apart miserably. "Find her or you will be punished!"

***