Evelyn, a modern woman, finds herself suddenly transmigrated into a novel where her peaceful life is turned upside down by a crazy Duke who happens to be her husband. Her new life is a maze of danger and betrayal, as the Duke is determined to kill h...
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As Ivan stirred from his slumber, his gaze softened as it fell upon Arya nestled in his embrace. She lay there, her serene face illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. He couldn't help but admire the delicate curve of her cheek, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders like silk, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each peaceful breath.
Carefully, he attempted to free his arm from beneath her head, but as he moved, Arya stirred, a soft murmur escaping her lips. With a tender smile, Ivan froze, not wanting to disturb her peaceful rest. Instead, he remained still, content to watch her sleeping form, feeling a warmth spread through him at the intimacy of the moment. In the quiet of the morning, with only the soft sound of her breathing, he realized how vunarable she is, her beauty unmatched to none and she was his. At the thought a smile spread his lips as he cares her cheek.
Last night, memories flooded his mind, revealing a side he never knew existed. Despite his title, he always felt the need to be cautious, wary of how others would judge him. The weight of his responsibilities burdened him, and past betrayals made him guarded, carefully considering every word he spoke. But last night was different; he found himself talking to her freely, without inhibition or fear. It was a night he truly lived, rediscovering a sense of freedom he had long forgotten. Despite his hardened heart, he found himself wanting to believe in trust once more. She didn't judge him like others did; with her, he could simply be himself. It dawned on him that he had never given her a chance—to be his friend, his partner, his confidante, his duchess.
He has only seen her as a Basilisk, as his enemy. He never knew this side of her. But now, he wants to know more. Is it alright to be this greedy? Is it alright to want more? To be her friend? He doesn't know how to make that possibility into a reality, but he knows what he wants.
Arya stirred as she opened her eyes to a broad chest before her, confused she looks up; Ivan's gaze met hers. Shocked, she could not utter a word. Ivan asked with a smile, "Good morning! Did you have a good night's sleep?" Realization of her being in his arms shocked her, her face turned as red as a beetroot. Embarrassed, she leaped upright from his arms, stutter as she spoke, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."
Facing the opposite side, Arya thought, 'No, wait, he saw my sleeping face. Is there any drool on my face? My face looks okay, right? Did I move too much in my sleep? I hope not.' She kept touching her face and hair. Ivan just kept his gaze on her without knowing the waves inside her head. He made a fake coughing sound, "Ahem... umhm." She looked at Ivan, feeling embarrassed. She sat at the side of the bed in a thunderbolt pose. Ivan wanted to befriend her but seeing her reaction he had realized he has a long run ahead. A sigh escaped his lips, startling Arya.
"I should get going. I will meet you at the breakfast table then," Ivan said, getting up from the bed. Politely, he added, "Oh, and thank you... for last night." Arya looked at him with a warm, sunny expression overlapping her smile as she said, "Anytime." Ivan flinched at her words; the warmth she gave him at that moment made him blush a little. Looking sideways, he said, "I will see you then," and he left, his ears tinged with red.
