Juno

 Chapter 46

My parents’ room, a shared space between the two of them, is fairly spacious.

Back in the day, it was so cramped that a single bed practically swallowed the room. But now, it’s larger than some one-bedroom apartments—which makes me feel like our family’s really made it.

I knocked a few times before stepping inside. There was Dad, trying to read while being ambushed by the twins, and Mom, knitting serenely as if the chaos were mere background noise.

“Grandpa, read!”

“Beard, beard!”

Despite the drool on his book and the relentless tugging at his beard, Dad bore it all with a smile—completely smitten with his first grandchildren. Mom, long used to this scene, continued knitting in silence, unfazed.

Just as she does for the twins, she’s been handmaking most of the baby clothes and accessories for Angie’s children. Angie’s hopeless when it comes to housework, so this has become Mom’s domain. It helps cut costs, too. Besides, it's not easy adapting to life as a noble’s wife when you were treated like a commoner mistress just a few years ago.

Angie once muttered that she feels more comfortable doing chores or working in the fields than mingling at tea parties with noblewomen. For Mom, who has plenty of free time on her hands, making things for her grandchildren seems like an enjoyable way to pass the time.

“Dad, Mom—got a minute?”

“What’s going on, Leon?”

“Is something wrong?”

The moment Dad shifted his attention to me, the twins lost interest and wandered off to their chairs, happily preoccupied with toys and snacks. Their good behavior probably comes from Angie's patient teaching. When my siblings and I were their age, we were always causing a ruckus.

“I could use some advice.”

Now, I’m not stupid enough to say, “I want to get lovey-dovey with my wife—please give me tips,” especially not in front of my parents and kids. It’s not like Angie and I are fighting. I just want to lift her spirits. Maybe get a little closer to her while I’m at it. That’s all.

The problem is, I have no idea how to cheer her up.

It’s been four years since Angie moved to the Bartfort territory, and while she’s adjusted well enough, it’s still nowhere near as convenient as the capital. On top of that, being pregnant again probably isn’t helping her mood. Add to that the ongoing tensions between the royal family and the duke’s house, and the pressure of whether her proposals will ever bear fruit—it’s no surprise she’s feeling overwhelmed.

As her husband, I should be supporting her. But the truth is, I’m the one leaning on her most of the time. I’m a greenhorn lord with barely any noble education, and it’s only thanks to Angie’s support behind the scenes that I’ve managed to hold things together at all.

“It’s about Angie,” I said.

“I heard she’s tired today—resting in her room,” Dad noted.

“You should be more attentive,” Mom added. “Pregnancy can take a toll, both physically and mentally.”

I know. I really do. But just knowing doesn’t tell me what to do. I’m still fumbling for the right approach.

“That’s why I came here. I want to help her feel better—but nothing I try is working.”

“You two usually get along so well—did something happen?” Dad asked.

“If you lean on her too much, it can strain the relationship,” Mom said gently. “A marriage should be about mutual care and understanding.”

“I know that… but…”

To outsiders, I might look like some up-and-coming noble, but to my family, I’m still just the indecisive second son. I have little experience with women, feel more at home plowing fields than attending royal banquets, and my idea of luxury is a warm bath and a soft bed. That’s who I am.

The royal and ducal families acting like I’m some noble powerhouse is more of a burden than an honor. I’m no elite—just a backwater landholder doing his best not to mess up. And if Angie’s down, it’s not just our household that suffers—the whole territory does. But forget the territory; I just want her to smile again.

“There’s a lot going on. Her family, the development plans, and that marriage interview Big Bro had—it brought up an old acquaintance of hers. That might’ve triggered some memories. Plus, we’ve had some politically sensitive matters dropped on our lap.”

“Just say no next time,” Dad said plainly. “Your wife should come first.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I sighed. “The duke’s family is involved. I couldn’t just refuse.”

“Stay out of shady deals,” Mom warned. “You can’t buy happiness with money.”

The real headache comes from the royal family. All I want is a quiet life in the countryside, but they keep dragging us into their mess. Sometimes I half-joke about flattening both the royal and ducal factions and making myself king. In my dreams, I was a king—and I get the appeal. Sometimes the easiest way to stop the nonsense is to become the strongest and silence them all.

If I had the strength to crush both a hesitant king and an overbearing duke, I’d do it without a second thought. But in reality, I’m just a small-time noble, stuck navigating politics far above my pay grade. It’s maddening.

“Thanks to Angie, we have a rough plan to move forward. But she’s still down—and I’m out of ideas.”

“What’s really bothering her?” Mom asked.

“It might be that an old friend asked her to mediate with the duke’s family. Or maybe… maybe she thinks I’m being unreliable. That I’m flirting with other women.”

“You cheated?!” Dad nearly shouted.

“No! Of course not! That Roseblade girl tried to flirt a little, but I shut her down.”

As if I’d ever cheat. I have a wife like Angie—how could I even think of looking at someone else? The prince grew up surrounded by women like Angie, Her Highness Mylene, and Olivia. I grew up with a relaxed mom, a sharp-tongued sister, selfish Finley, and the worst of the worst—Zola and Merce. Life’s unfair like that. Why do all the elites get the wealth and the beautiful women?

“I just want to make Angie smile again—but I don’t know how. Please, tell me the secret to a happy marriage.”

At this point, I no longer care about appearances. I bowed my head. Angie always scolds me about how nobles shouldn’t bow lightly—that it diminishes one’s dignity. But honestly, I don’t have much pride to begin with. Not when it comes to this.

So I’ll be blunt about it—and if I have to, I’ll bow my head as many times as it takes.

If it means cheering up my wife, then my pride is worth less than the paper you’d use in an outhouse.

“How about getting Angie a gift?” Dad suggested.

“She’s a former duke’s daughter, you know? Nothing I give her would really measure up,” I replied.

Our home is still filled with the dresses and jewelry Angie brought with her from her ducal household. For formal occasions with other nobles, she gets maybe one new dress tailored a year—but the truth is, even those don’t compare to the slightly dated ones she brought from the capital. Once, she even laughed and said we could sell those old gowns to help fund the territory if things got tight.

Like hell I’d do something so pathetic as selling off my wife’s clothes.

As for lavish meals or fancy getaways? That’s not the answer either. Sure, we hired a talented young chef through her family’s connections to keep up appearances, but Angie—raised among ducal and royal cuisine—has a refined palate that’s hard to impress. Ironically, she often says she prefers the simple, thrown-together meals I make over the chef’s artfully plated dishes.

It’s been four years since we met, three since we got married, and I still don’t know what truly makes her happy.

“I’ve been trying to show her love—I tell her I love her all the time—but lately, she’s been kind of distant,” I admitted.

If not for Angie, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Whenever we’re alone, I make sure to tell her how much I love her, both out of affection and gratitude. Even now, Dad and Mom act like newlyweds whenever they get the chance, so I thought showering Angie with loving words was the right thing to do—especially since she’s had to adjust to life in this rural backwater.

“Leon, that might not be the best approach,” Mom said gently. “Hearing ‘I love you’ too often can become a burden.”

“Was it like that for you, Mom?” I asked.

“If I didn’t love this man, I never would’ve stuck by him all those years,” she said. “Living as a commoner’s mistress, putting up with Zola’s cruelty, raising you kids—none of that would’ve been possible without love.”

“Then there’s no issue, right?”

“But when you’re exhausted or stressed, constant affection can feel smothering. Sometimes, a wife—or a mother—just wants space. Don’t you complain about being tired from your work as a lord?”

“Well… yeah, I guess I do.”

I probably got this way from growing up in a big, noisy family. When I’m worn out, I want to lean on Angie—to let her soothe my heart and body. And when she leans on me, I love that too. But for someone like her, having a clingy husband hanging off her when she’s already overwhelmed must be frustrating. Honestly, I’m starting to realize I’m a lot more high-maintenance than I thought.

Add in the small children and the endless responsibilities of managing the territory, and it's no wonder she’s craving a bit of peace and quiet.

Dad, by the way, looks a little dejected now—probably still processing the revelation that Mom once found his affections annoying.

“But if I leave her alone, I can’t help but worry,” I admitted.

“Then give her some quiet time and take care of the kids yourself,” Dad said. “Let Angelica take the day off, at least.”

“Yeah…”

With that, the twins ended up in my lap, squirming around restlessly. I used to get roped into babysitting Finley and Colin when my older siblings bailed, so I know the drill—little kids are a handful. They never sit still, always trying to run off somewhere. Normally, we leave them with servants or relatives, but Angie insists on raising them herself as much as possible. She’s the "education mom" type, and that’s gotta be exhausting.

Still, just one day of helping out won’t be enough to lift her spirits.

“I thought about taking Angie somewhere, you know, to help her unwind—but with Lionel and Ariel in tow, it’s not exactly easy.”

“Where were you planning to go?” Dad asked.

“Someplace outside Bartfort. Just a short trip. It’s always refreshing to be away from home.”

Ever since Olivia visited to pay her respects to the war dead, tourism in Bartfort has picked up. We don’t have enough lodgings to meet demand, though, and building more might be risky if the boom dies out. Angie keeps reminding me to balance supply and demand, and I guess that’s starting to sink in—I’m actually thinking like a noble now.

Still, hot springs alone won’t revitalize our whole economy. Most of our farmland crops go toward self-sufficiency, so they don’t bring in much income.

“The capital would probably bore Angie—she’s seen everything there. Dungeons are out; too risky. I’m thinking of a quiet one- or two-night getaway.”

“You’ve climbed the ranks, but you still lack ambition,” Dad sighed. “Most boys in this kingdom dream of becoming adventurers.”

“Maybe Angie or the kids would, but me? I just want a quiet place for the family to relax.”

“How about this, then?”

Mom handed me the book Dad had been reading: Tourist Attractions of the Holfort Kingdom. These kinds of books used to be popular among nobles when I was a kid. But once the war with the Principality broke out, everyone put travel plans on hold. And afterward—well, with postwar instability and tourist spots in ruins, travel became a luxury nobody pursued.

Bartfort managed to carve out a niche as a “healing resort” while other regions were still recovering, so we benefited from that brief window. Still, while we were spared any real destruction during the war, the cost in manpower and finances was steep. Little by little, I’d like to rebuild and grow Bartfort’s reputation—maybe one day we’ll even be featured in a guidebook like this.

“Now that all of you are working, we were thinking of traveling,” Dad said.

“Taking a trip with the grandkids doesn’t sound so bad,” Mom added with a smile.

Talk about the good life. Jealousy was gnawing at me. Damn those royal and court aristocrats. I gave my all in the war, and in return, they saddled me with land and a noble title. I never once said I wanted to deal with all this reclamation work or territory management nonsense. My dream was simple—buy a house and some farmland in the countryside with my military pension, marry a sweet, curvy wife, and live a peaceful life.

If I hadn’t married Angie, I would’ve ditched the capital and all its political nonsense ages ago. I wonder when the two of us will finally get our well-earned rest.

Sighing, I opened the book and started skimming through it. One section even listed dungeons—way too dangerous. As I flipped through the pages, something caught my eye.

“Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I leave things in your hands for today and tomorrow?”

“Sure, but what’s going on?”

“I need to step out for a bit. There’s no urgent business, so it should be fine.”

“Where are you headed?”

“That’s a secret. Mom, could you keep an eye on Angie? I’m taking Lionel and Ariel with me. We’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon.”

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“I’m going to cheer Angie up. Lionel, Ariel—come with Papa.”

“‘Kay!”

“Got it!”

I left my parents’ room and immediately instructed the servants to prepare the carriage and pack the children’s daily necessities. Angie might not be thrilled to see me right now, so I also asked them to ready my travel bag—the one I always keep packed for sudden outings.

If I’m doing this, I need to act fast. The longer Angie stays in this gloomy state, the more it weighs on me too. Supporting my wife and raising our children—that’s part of my duty as both a husband and a lord.

While the bewildered servants scrambled to follow orders, I loaded the kids and our belongings into the carriage, then directed the driver to head for the airfield, where the lord’s private airship awaited us.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

I knocked a few times, testing the waters.

I imagine husbands everywhere, dealing with intimidating wives, know this exact feeling of dread. Angie and I are close, sure—but intimidating is still intimidating. I can only hope this cheers her up.

“Come in.”

Her curt reply came from deep within the bedroom. Taking a slow, steadying breath, I pushed the wagon inside and stepped through the door.

There she was—Angie, sprawled across the bed, radiating a commanding presence even in repose. Clad in a crimson nightgown, her languid posture had the aura of a powerful predator asserting dominance over her den. Frankly, it was terrifying.

“I’m back, Angie. How are you feeling?”

“Eh, so-so. I’ve been indulging myself today.”

“You work too hard, so now’s the perfect time to relax. I brought some snacks, by the way.”

“I’ll have some.”

I set the tea set on the table and smoothly brewed a pot. For pregnant Angie, I used fewer tea leaves and added plenty of milk before handing her the cup. The snacks were donuts—made with a mix of bean flour for a healthier twist, and baked instead of fried. Lightly sweet, but still satisfying.

“How is it?”

“Nice texture.”

“I combined wheat and bean flour and added crushed nuts. Lionel and Ariel helped, you know.”

“Then I’ll savor every bite.”

A smile lit up her face as she took a bite. It felt like ages since I’d seen her genuinely smile. Normally, she’d scold me for allowing food in bed, but today, she seemed content to make an exception. She polished off her portion in no time and cast a longing glance at mine. I picked up one donut for myself, then slid the rest of the plate over to her. She ate them quietly.

I didn’t dare say anything about her eating too much. The last time I joked about her gaining weight, she kicked me square in the butt and didn’t speak to me for three days.

After finishing the tea, I poured her a cup of hot water instead—easier on her stomach. She gulped it down in one go, the sound echoing softly. If my sister or Finley drank like that, I’d cringe. But with Angie? She made even that look like a scene from a painting—totally unfair.

Looking more at ease, she yawned and collapsed backward onto the bed. I’d missed my window to talk. Oh well—I started cleaning up.

I’m a lord, a viscount, a husband…

But I’m completely under her thumb. Can’t even complain. I’m too smitten.

“Hey.”

A slightly irritable voice called out from behind. I turned to find Angie glaring at me. Did I do something wrong again?

She patted the blanket beside her and jerked her chin, beckoning me over. Unsure of her intentions, I cautiously sat on the bed. Angie remained sprawled, watching me with narrowed eyes.

What a pitiful sight—me being dragged around by my wife’s whims. Then again, in lion prides, it’s the lionesses who rule the roost. I never thought I’d relate to a male lion.

Angie really did resemble one—those golden locks, sharp eyes, generous curves, and that regal attitude. Uh-oh. The more I stared, the more flustered I got. I averted my gaze awkwardly, only to see her shifting closer like a predator stalking its prey.

“Where did you go, and what were you up to?”

“I wasn’t doing anything shady.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Out with it.”

Honestly, I almost wish she were still down and lethargic—at least that version was easier to handle. Right now, I felt like a small animal cornered by a hungry beast.

“You snuck off with the kids and had fun without me, didn’t you? Must’ve been relaxing without your nagging wife.”

“That’s not it. I just thought you were tired and needed rest.”

“If you’d told me that directly, I would’ve understood. You’re the one who ran off without a word, Leon.”

“Yeah, I get it. I wanted to surprise you.”

She leaned into me, pressing her back against my chest as I gently wrapped my arms around her.

“If all you did was take the kids out to play, that’s a little irresponsible as a lord, don’t you think?”

“I made sure everything was in order before I left. Cleared the workload, too.”

“Where did you go?”

“A floating island to the south—you know, the one famous for matchmaking.”

“And?”

“You’re deflecting. That’s not the real reason, is it?”

Sharp as ever—befitting someone once destined to be queen.

If I ever cheated, Angie would see through me instantly. Not that I ever would.

Wordlessly, I pulled a small, neatly wrapped package from my pocket and placed it in her palm.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the reason I took the trip. Go ahead—open it.”

Inside was a delicate ornament, strung with peach-pink and milky-white stones. Compared to the extravagant jewels Angie brought from her ducal lineage, it wasn’t particularly luxurious. But it held something rarer—divine blessings, granted by an eccentric order of priests not affiliated with the typical temples of gods and saints. Their blessings were said to bestow valor, wisdom, fortune, and, most importantly, success in matchmaking—a term that extended to fertility and safe childbirth.

Dad had been reading about it in a book, and that’s what gave me the idea. I brought Lionel and Ariel with me to the southern floating island, home to that unusual shrine, solely to pray for Angie’s safe delivery.

“I had it made after we visited the shrine—Lionel and Ariel were with me.”

“You really went all the way there just for this?”

“I made sure to conduct the local survey while I was at it. I’ll hand in the report soon—look forward to it.”

“Honestly…”

Despite her grumbling, Angie held the amulet delicately, her expression softening with quiet joy. Just seeing that made the whole trip worthwhile. Flying the airship and negotiating with those strange priests had paid off.

The stones shimmered faintly in her hand—or maybe they were actually glowing?

Then, unexpectedly, a tiny flame flickered to life within the amulet, dancing like a candle in the breeze. It was subtle and delicate, yet the gentle light it cast gave the entire room a serene, almost sacred glow.

“Well, that’s something. A flame? That’s… unusual.”

“Is that supposed to happen?”

“I’d heard rumors of their charms sparking mysterious phenomena, but I didn’t believe them until now.”

“Guess this proves it’ll protect you.”

“I’ll treasure it—especially since you went to all that trouble to have it made.”

It had been nearly two weeks since I’d last seen her smile like that.

I gently embraced her from behind. She didn’t resist—on the contrary, she leaned into me. When I placed my hands on hers, she intertwined our fingers with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

“So, what’s been bothering you lately?”

“I’m not bothered.”

“Liar. You’ve been distant for a while now.”

“I’ve just been thinking. My worries seem endless.”

“Is it the feud between the royal family and the ducal house?”

“No. It’s you.”

Somehow, I was the problem.

I mean, I know I’m not the perfect husband, but I didn’t think I’d done anything bad enough to send her into full retreat.

“I’ll try harder. Just… don’t give up on me.”

“I know how hard you work, Leon. Better than anyone. The problem is… my own pettiness. I can’t seem to accept what comes with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The more you grow, the more you’re dragged into political storms, whether you want it or not. The moment we married, your peaceful life slipped further out of reach.”

“I was prepared for that. As long as you’re with me, I’ll manage.”

“And lately, women keep throwing themselves at you—Olivia, Marie, Carla, Deirdre, even Her Highness Mylene. At this point, I’m not even mad. Just tired.”

It’s funny. When we first got married, Angie claimed she’d be fine if I took a mistress or concubine. How things change.

Back then, every time one of those women flirted with me—even with Angie right there—it left a bad taste in my mouth. I’d never admit it aloud, but hearing Angie’s jealousy actually made me happy. I wanted to dote on her even more. Isn’t that only natural?

“I’m not brave enough to cheat.”

“You’re the one who dreamed about being chased by a harem of concubines. Not exactly reassuring.”

“That was just a dream!”

“Sure. And you’d fall head over heels for anyone with a generous chest, wouldn’t you?”

“That’s not true! Love and lust are different. A woman I love and big breasts are completely separate things. If the woman I love happens to have big breasts, well, that’s just a bonus.”

“You really talk big. Her Highness Mylene once said that men start making excuses when they’re hiding something.”

I’m doomed. There’s no beating Angie in a verbal battle.

“Maybe I should become king. If you handle the politics, I could spend my days tending a vegetable garden in the palace.”

“That’s your ambition? Do you even know what the throne is?”

“Just a fancy chair, right? I say the strongest person should sit on it.”

“…You’re not wrong, but don’t say that aloud.”

“I’d only ever say it to you.”

As a duke’s daughter once in line for the throne, Angie would’ve made an excellent queen. But that dream ended with her broken engagement. For her to reclaim that path, she’d have to bulldoze every obstacle in her way. If I had the strength to rival the Holfort royal family or the Redgrave ducal house… maybe then.

“King, huh…”

I imagined myself wearing that gaudy royal mantle, absurdly ornate clothing, and a glistening crown. Honestly, I looked more like a carnival fool than a monarch.

With a sigh, I held Angie tighter.

Still, if that foolish costume meant I could protect her and our children… maybe I should aim for the throne. Better to be a reckless villain who burns bright and dies spectacularly than a coward who hides behind schemes.

As I traced my fingers along Angie’s back, something deep inside me stirred—something dark, fierce, and quietly burning.

┳⁠━━━━⁠━⁠⁠━⁠━⁠━━━⁠┳

Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

This chapter takes a break from the heavier plots to focus on a tender moment between husband and wife. It complements the previous, more adult-themed content with a warm, character-driven interlude that builds on the Bartfort family’s relationships.

The title Juno—named after the Roman equivalent of Hera—holds dual meaning. It refers to both her complex role as the goddess of marriage and childbirth, and her struggle with Zeus’s infidelity. In this context, it parallels Angie’s feelings of love, frustration, and vulnerability, while also connecting back to the matchmaking shrine Leon visited.

Addendum: As per the client’s request, illustrations were provided by the following artists. Please check out their amazing work:

Chizo-sama: Skeb

Okamen-sama: Pixiv (Note: Adult content)

Vierzeck-sama: Pixiv (Note: Adult content)

Yanagi (YOO) Tenchi-sama: Pixiv

Shedar-sama: Pixiv

Meitei Roppa-sama: Pixiv

Mu-sama: Pixiv

I’d love to hear your thoughts and impressions to help shape future chapters!