The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 173: Practice

They blessed my womb, I thought flatly. In front of Soren. While chanting about seeds and fertility and spring thaws like we were planting crops instead of... I cut myself off before I thought of something even more mortifying.

"This empire has terrible traditions."

"I thought the spring thaw metaphor was particularly poetic," Soren replied, his tone absolutely serious except for the laughter lurking underneath. "Very evocative. Really painted a picture."

"I will burn you."

"You keep threatening violence. It’s starting to feel like affection." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"It’s not."

"If you say so." He pushed off the wall, moving closer, and I held my ground even though every instinct screamed at me to either retreat or attack. "Though I have to admit, watching you try not to set everything on fire while priests chanted about fertility was absolutely the highlight of my evening."

"Get out," I said, pointing at the door.

"Actually," he moved even closer, his voice dropping to something more intimate, "I wanted to show you something."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "What."

"A place. You’ll like it."

"I’m tired," I said, which was absolutely true. The feast, the confrontation, the blessing ceremony... all of it had drained me more than I wanted to admit. "I need to sleep for approximately three days."

"I’ll help you relax," he offered, his expression shifting to something that made my pulse quicken for reasons that had nothing to do with anger.

"If you’re referring to what happened in the cave... "

"I meant," he interrupted, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence that fooled absolutely no one, "that I’ll carry you so you don’t have to walk. Your mind went somewhere interesting, though."

My face heated again. "You’re irritating."

"You keep saying that," he observed, taking another step closer. "Yet here we are."

I sighed, recognizing defeat when it stared me in the face with ice-blue eyes and an insufferable smile. "Fine. But let me change first. This dress is actively trying to kill me, and I refuse to go anywhere while being slowly crushed to death by silk and whale bone."

I moved toward the changing screen in the corner of my chambers, already reaching for the laces at my back that I absolutely could not reach myself.

Soren didn’t leave.

I turned to glare at him over my shoulder. "Out."

"I could help," he offered, moving toward me with deliberate intent.

"Out!" I repeated, though with considerably less conviction than I should have managed.

"I’m going to be your husband in ten days," he pointed out reasonably. "Seems like I should be allowed to help with difficult laces."

"Not yet you’re not. Out."

He sighed dramatically but moved behind me anyway, his fingers finding the top lace of my dress with practiced ease. "You know, most women would appreciate assistance with these things."

"Most women," I said, trying to maintain composure while his fingers worked down my spine, "haven’t spent the past hour having priests chant about their fertility."

"Fair point." He loosened another lace, then another, his movements slow and deliberate. "You were magnificent tonight, by the way."

His lips brushed against my shoulder... barely a kiss, just a whisper of contact... and I felt that touch everywhere.

"Stop distracting me," I managed, though my voice had gone slightly breathless.

"I’m helping," he murmured against my skin, his hands continuing their work on the laces while his mouth traced a path along the curve where my neck met my shoulder.

"With your mouth?"

"I’m multitasking."

Another kiss, this one at the nape of my neck, and my knees went slightly weak. His hands had finished with the laces but hadn’t moved away, instead settling at my waist, warm through the thin fabric of my chemise.

"Soren," I warned, though it came out far less threatening than intended.

"Eris," he replied, his tone suggesting he knew exactly what he was doing to me and was thoroughly enjoying it.

I turned in his arms, placing both palms against his chest and shoving him toward the door with enough force that he actually moved. "Out. Now. Before I change my mind about going anywhere with you and decide sleeping is a better option."

He laughed but went, pausing at the door to look back at me with an expression that promised this conversation was far from over. "I’ll wait outside."

"You do that."

The moment he left, I sagged against the changing screen, trying to regulate my breathing and remind myself that murdering one’s future husband before the wedding was generally considered poor form.

I called for the maids, and they appeared with gratifying speed, helping me out of the torture device masquerading as a dress and into something infinitely more comfortable: a soft linen shift that fell to mid-thigh, loose and light enough that I could actually breathe, and a robe of deep burgundy silk over it, tied loosely at my waist.

I left my hair down, grateful to finally remove all the pins and ornaments that had been digging into my scalp for hours. It fell in waves down my back, still slightly damp from the blessed water Serah had used.

Finally comfortable, finally able to breathe without corsetry restricting every expansion of my lungs, I opened the door.

Soren was leaning against the opposite wall, waiting with the kind of patience that suggested he would have stood there all night if necessary. When he saw me, something in his expression shifted... softened and intensified simultaneously.

"Better?" he asked.

"Immeasurably."

He pushed off the wall, moving toward me, and I had exactly half a second to register his intent before he swept me up, throwing me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing more than a sack of grain.

"WHAT... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I yelled, pounding my fists against his back.

"You said you were tired," he replied, already walking down the corridor with me dangling over his shoulder like some kind of trophy. "I’m helping."

"Put me down! This is kidnapping!"

"Technically," he said, his tone infuriatingly cheerful, "it’s husbanding."

"We’re not married yet!"

"Practice makes perfect."