Forced To Marry The Heiress (GL)

Chapter 31: Tuesday

Morning sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm golden glow across the master bedroom. The light crept slowly across the marble floors, climbing to the silk sheets and eventually kissing the faces of the two women tangled together beneath the duvet.

The curtains had performed their automated routine perfectly, softly sliding open the moment the clock struck 6 AM.

The sun was bright and warm, but its heat could not compare to the way the two held each other. Keres had always run cold—or so everyone assumed—but in this moment, her arms were wrapped around her wife like she was afraid the woman might disappear.

The duvet blanket enveloped them both, cocooning them in a private world where nothing existed beyond the soft fabric and softer touches. The blanket served to make Asteria feel even warmer in Keres’ presence, as if she needed any assistance.

Being near Keres was like standing before a hearth on the coldest winter night—comforting, consuming, and impossible to step away from.

Keres had buried her nose in Asteria’s hair sometime during the night, and she had not moved since. She breathed in deeply, unconsciously, pulling the familiar jasmine scent into her lungs until it filled every corner of her senses.

Asteria’s shampoo, or her lotion, the very essence of her—it clung to the pillows, to the sheets, to Keres’ own skin now. The way she held Asteria protectively, with one arm wrapped securely around her waist and the other tucked beneath her head, made Asteria nuzzle even closer into the curve of Keres’ neck.

A soft sound escaped Asteria’s lips. Not a word, not a sigh—just a gentle hum of contentment that vibrated against Keres’ collarbone.

"Hnn~"

Asteria let out the soft hum as she tightened her embrace on Keres a little more, her fingers curling into the fabric of Keres’ silk nightshirt. The movement was small, unconscious, the kind of thing people only did when they felt completely safe. And gradually, Keres’ eyes fluttered open.

She blinked once—twice, adjusting to the morning light that seemed almost too bright after the darkness of sleep.

The scene before her settled in her mind piece by piece—the bedroom, the sunlight, the weight of another body pressed against her own, the slow movement of Asteria’s breathing against her throat. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Keres did not flinch, she did not push Asteria away. She simply stayed there, looking at Asteria’s face with something unreadable softening her usually sharp features. Her eyes traced the curve of Asteria’s cheek, the sweep of her lashes, the slight parting of her lips as she slept on, utterly unaware of being watched.

"I smell jasmine," Keres thought, her mind still sluggish with sleep but clear enough to recognize the scent that had become intimately familiar against her will. Yet the velvet powder seems to irritate the scent.

Her gaze drifted downward, and the softness in her eyes hardened just slightly—not with anger, but with something closer to pain. Bruises dotted Asteria’s exposed skin where her nightgown had shifted during sleep. Some were fading, slowly healing into sickly yellows and greens that spoke of time passed.

But others remained fresh, black and purple, stark against the pale canvas of Asteria’s skin.

Keres could not help herself. Her thumb moved of its own accord, brushing lightly over a particularly dark bruise on Asteria’s shoulder. The skin was warm beneath her touch, slightly swollen, and Keres felt something twist in her chest—something she refused to name.

Then she withdrew her hand immediately, as if touching Asteria meant invading her personal space. As if she had any right to that warmth, to that skin, to the woman who had every reason to hate her.

But she did not pull away entirely. Instead, Keres adjusted her hold and pulled Asteria impossibly closer to her chest, letting the warmth of Asteria’s body seep into her own. She told herself it was practical—the room was cool, the blanket was soft, and bodies produced heat. That was all.

She did not know why, but this moment made her feel safe. As if all her worries had been erased by a single embrace from the one person she most hated. The thought was absurd, it was contradictory, it made no logical sense whatsoever.

And yet.

Keres did not know what this feeling was, she did not have a name for the way her heart slowed its frantic pace when Asteria sighed in her sleep. She did not have an explanation for why her arms refused to let go even though her mind whispered that she should. At the same time, she did not want to find out yet. Not now, not when the morning light was so gentle and Asteria smelled like jasmine and the world outside could wait.

She just wanted to bury herself in Asteria’s flesh and never be separated again.

So she did.

~~~•••~~~

Hours passed.

The sun had climbed higher in the sky, shifting from golden to bright white, before Asteria finally stirred. Her hand reached out, searching for the warmth that had been there when she fell asleep, and found nothing but cool sheets.

Asteria sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms before stretching both arms above her head. A yawn escaped her, unladylike and unrestrained, and she blinked sleepily at the empty space beside her. The sheets were cold. Keres had been gone for a while.

Then her eyes landed on the small piece of paper resting on Keres’ pillow, along with a sleek platinum credit card that caught the morning light and reflected it in tiny rainbows across the ceiling.

Asteria reached for the note first, her fingers fumbling slightly as she picked it up and brought it close to her face. She squinted at the handwriting, tilting her head this way and that as she tried to make sense of Keres’ hurried scrawl.

The letters were sharp and angular, pressed hard into the paper as if written in frustration, and some of them slanted so severely they nearly fell off the page.

"U-Use... M-My... Card..." Asteria sounded out each word carefully, her brow furrowing in concentration.

"Don’t stay... Uhm..." She paused, staring at the next word like it was written in a foreign language. "How do you read this?"

The word was short but the handwriting was atrocious—a messy scribble that could have been "house" or "horse" or "horror" for all she could tell. The first letter looked like an H, but the rest was anyone’s guess.

She muttered to herself for another minute, growing increasingly frustrated, before finally giving up with a sigh. She could not read the word, and staring at it longer would not magically grant her the ability. So she frowned, set the note down carefully, and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

Her bare feet touched the cold marble floor, and she winced. She had forgotten her comfortable cotton slippers again. But it was too late to search for them now, and she was too eager to figure out what Keres wanted to waste time looking under the bed.

She grabbed her cardigan from the back of a chair and pulled it on, making sure the soft fabric covered the bruises scattered across her arms and shoulders. The cardigan was oversized and pale blue, something she had bought months ago because it reminded her of the sky after rain. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

It hid the evidence of her injuries well enough, though she could still feel the ache beneath the fabric if she moved too quickly.

Asteria left the bedroom wearing only her nightgown and the cardigan, her bare feet padding softly against the floors as she made her way downstairs. The house was quiet, filled with the kind of peaceful stillness that only existed in the early hours before the household fully woke. But she could hear movement from the living room—the soft rustle of fabric, the gentle clink of a cleaning bottle being set down.

She found a young maid in the living room, kneeling beside the coffee table with a spray bottle and a cloth. The maid was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, with her hair pulled back in a neat bun and her uniform pressed neatly. She looked up when she heard footsteps, her hands pausing mid-wipe.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Asteria called out softly, not wanting to startle the girl.

The maid heard her and immediately set down her tools, rising to her feet with a warm, professional smile. "Yes, Madam?"

Asteria approached quickly, her bare feet slapping softly against the marble, and held out the note like a child showing a parent a confusing homework assignment.

"How do you read this one?" She pointed at the illegible word, her voice carrying an urgency that made the maid blink in surprise.

The maid leaned closer, studying the handwriting with a focused expression. Her lips moved silently as she worked through the scrawl, and after a moment, her face cleared. "Ah, it’s ’house,’ Madam."

Asteria’s whole face lit up. She nodded enthusiastically, clutching the note to her chest like it was a treasure map she had finally decoded. "Thank you!"

Then she returned her attention to the note, her lips moving as she read the words aloud to herself, piecing together Keres’ message one painstaking word at a time. "Don’t stay at the house... G-Go... And do some sh-shopping..."

Her brows furrowed again, this time in confusion rather than frustration. She read the note three more times, just to make sure she had not misunderstood, but the words remained the same. Shopping. Keres wanted her to go shopping.

Asteria looked up at the maid, her expression genuinely puzzled. "Shopping? What does shopping mean?"

The maid blinked again, clearly caught off guard by the question. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "Ah... shopping is when you go out to the mall and buy some things you like, Madam."

"Like what?" Asteria asked, leaning forward slightly with genuine curiosity.

The maid hesitated, glancing around as if hoping another servant would appear and rescue her from this strange conversation. When no rescue came, she cleared her throat and offered, "Err... designer bags? Expensive clothes? Whatever you want, Madam."

"Ohhh!" Asteria’s face transformed, her eyes widening and her lips parting in delighted understanding. She practically bounced on her bare feet, the note crinkling in her grip. "What’s your name?!"

The maid was taken aback by the sudden question, her professional composure cracking slightly. "A-ah, m-my name is Dina, Madam."

"Right! Dina!" Asteria beamed at her like they were old friends reuniting after years apart. "Haha, come shopping with me. Bring the other maids!"

Dina’s eyes widened. "Madam, that is really what we’re supposed to do. To accompany you shopping and hold the paper bags you’ll buy." She said it like she was reciting a rule from the employee handbook, which she probably was.

Asteria nodded along, but then her expression shifted, turning serious in a way that seemed almost comical on her usually cheerful face. "But you’ll buy things too, right?"

Dina shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. There was something endearing about the way Asteria looked at her, like the very idea of not buying things for herself was incomprehensible. "No, Madam. We’re just going to accompany you and carry your shopping bags."

Asteria’s mouth dropped open. She shook her head firmly, her cardigan slipping slightly off one shoulder before she tugged it back into place. "N-no! I don’t want that...!" She pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a way that made her look younger, more vulnerable.

"If you’re with me, you have to buy things for yourselves too."

The maids who had been quietly entering the living room one by one—drawn by the sound of Asteria’s excited voice—blinked in unison. Dina stared at Asteria like she had just suggested they all fly to the moon.

"What?" Dina asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She needed to make sure Asteria was not playing some kind of elaborate joke on them.

Asteria’s expression remained sincere, her eyes clear and earnest. "It would be unfair if I’m the only one enjoying it. You and the others are coming with me, and I don’t want to buy things only for myself. So accompany me and I’ll buy your things too, okay?"

Dina was speechless. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. No words came out. Behind her, the other maids exchanged glances—some confused, some suspicious, some starting to smile despite themselves.

Finally, Dina nodded slowly, as if agreeing to something she still did not fully understand. She turned to the other maids and began informing them to prepare to accompany Asteria, her voice carrying a note of wonder that she could not hide.

"Yes!" Asteria clapped her hands together, the note and credit card crinkling in her palm. "I’ll go changing!"

"Yes, Madam. We’ll wait for you here," Dina said, slipping back into her professional role with visible relief.

Asteria paused halfway to the stairs, her bare feet freezing on the marble. She turned back, her head tilting. "Aren’t you gonna change too?"

Dina looked down at her uniform, then back at Asteria. "No, this is our uniform."

"But you should only wear it here inside the house." Asteria’s tone was matter-of-fact, like she was explaining something obvious to a child. "Don’t wear it outside."

The maids shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uncertain glances. "B-But... But how will people know we’re on duty?" Dina asked, grasping for some kind of logic.

"N-No!" Asteria shook her head vigorously, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. "Change your clothes. We’re all friends, right?"

The maids paused. The word hung in the air between them—friends—and none of them seemed to know what to do with it. Maids did not have friends among the people they served. That was not how this world worked. That was not how any of this worked.

But Asteria’s genuine smile, open and warm and completely without artifice, told them that she meant every word.

"I’ll go changing! Please change too!"

Asteria rushed upstairs, her bare feet slapping against the marble steps, her cardigan flapping behind her like a cape. She disappeared around the corner, and the sound of her footsteps faded down the hallway.

The maids stood in the living room, looking at each other.

No one spoke for a long moment.

Then, like panicking ants who had just discovered their hill was on fire, they scattered. They rushed back to their shared quarters, feet pounding against floors, voices overlapping in confused whispers.

"What did Madam mean, change clothes?"

"What did she mean, friends?"

"What did she mean, she’ll buy things for us?"

None of them had answers. But all of them were smiling.