Chapter 47
Chapter 47
“You want me to go out with you?”
Chloe paused mid-sip of tea, surprised, her eyes wide. Alphonse nodded from across the table.
“You’ve been through something significant. A break will do you good.”
They were having tea, as always, in Chloe’s tea room.
Surprised by the sudden suggestion, Chloe thought carefully. Truth be told, she was quite the homebody. She preferred staying in and enjoying tea.
But… sometimes something new could be nice.
‘Now that I think about it, we haven’t really gone out together.’
Aside from balls or events, they had only gone shopping for teaware. For a married couple, that seemed lacking. It was time to make joyful memories together.
Besides, aside from her recent visit to Morgan’s boutique, she hadn’t left the mansion in so long she felt like she might grow mold.
Chloe accepted his proposal readily.
The next afternoon, they headed into town by carriage. At Chloe’s insistence that the ducal crest drew too much attention, they took a hired coach instead.
Their first stop: the theater. Chloe had mentioned the night before that she wanted to see a play.
They were led to the VIP seats that Alphonse had reserved in advance through Kiel. In this world, the theater was divided into seats for commoners, seats for nobles and the wealthy, and VIP boxes.
The commoners’ area was a flat, standing-only space on the first floor with no seats, while the nobles’ seats were located on the second and third floors. The VIP seats were more like private rooms, protruding from the second and third floors. From here, VIP guests could watch the play in comfort as if in their own rooms, constantly served with drinks and light refreshments by theater staff.
As soon as they entered the VIP box, Chloe leaned against the railing and looked out. The stage was clearly visible from here, and she thought watching a play from this spot would be incredibly vivid and enjoyable.
“I’m really looking forward to this!”
Chloe said, her eyes sparkling. Alphonse’s lips curled slightly, barely noticeable.
In truth, he had no interest in theater. More precisely, he had no real interest in the arts at all.
Of course, as ‘high art’ was considered basic education for the nobility, he had learned enough of it. But his understanding was purely theoretical, he had never genuinely cared.
Given that even the refined arts he had studied over the years failed to interest him, this particular melodrama, overflowing with tear-jerking scenes, was even worse. It was diametrically opposed to his tastes.
The problem was that Chloe liked that sort of thing.
Alphonse was thinking: *for the next four hours of this play, I’ll just stay quiet and pretend I’m dead.
The duke and duchess sat in their seats. Before long, the curtain rose, and the play began. Chloe focused all her attention on the stage, her eyes sparkling. While Alphonse normally admired her passion and focus, today was an exception. He couldn’t fathom how someone could concentrate so intently on such a dull performance.
However, there was one thing that did amuse him—not the play, but Chloe’s reactions. Alphonse found the play’s structure simple enough that he could grasp the playwright’s intent in each scene. For example, when there was a joke, it was time to laugh; when the hero was in peril, the audience was meant to feel tense; and when the lovers were separated with sorrowful music playing, it was time to cry.
Alphonse understood these cues intellectually, but emotionally, he felt nothing. So, he looked at Chloe. She reacted exactly as intended by the playwright: laughing at jokes, clenching her fists during tense scenes, and crying when the lovers parted.
‘That, too, is a kind of talent,’ he thought.
In the end, Alphonse found more interest in watching Chloe’s expressions than the play itself.
After the first and second acts ended and the second intermission began, Alphonse turned to Chloe, who was nibbling on a macaron, and asked:
“Do you find this sort of thing entertaining?”
Chloe looked at him in surprise. He stared back at her with his usual unreadable expression.
Of course, he wasn’t mocking her or trying to provoke her. He was genuinely curious. Having lived under the same roof with him for some time, Chloe could tell. She also understood what kind of thought process led to that question.
‘So he doesn’t like theater.’
She finally realized. When she said she wanted to see a play and he immediately reserved a theater, she had assumed he also enjoyed performances. But now she understood, he had done it purely out of consideration for her.
Chloe felt both grateful and a little guilty. She smiled warmly.
“Yes. It lets me experience someone else’s life. For a little while, I get to become a different person. And above all…”
She reached out and gently took her husband’s hand—a large, cool, and elegant hand.
“Feeling someone else’s emotions as if they were my own, that’s what’s truly enjoyable. I think art exists to convey emotions.”
“…”
“Alphonse, just this once… could you try to focus? I won’t ask to watch another play again.”
Art as a medium for conveying emotions… Honestly, it didn’t resonate with him. But it was a fresh interpretation. None of the refined art education he had received ever presented that perspective.
Regardless, the woman in front of him was smiling adorably. He didn’t want to be the reason that bright expression faded. Alphonse nodded.
The third act began. Alphonse, as Chloe asked, tried to focus again.
But just as before, he couldn’t understand why the protagonist was crying or getting angry.
Even during the romance scenes, it was the same. When the male lead tearfully confessed his forbidden love to the female lead, Chloe cried, but Alphonse felt nothing.
The fourth act began.
Alphonse leaned back and sighed. His Adam’s apple rose and fell.
It was all pointless. At this rate, he thought it would be better to just keep watching Chloe’s reactions.
“Oh, my rose-like Josephine. I wish it had been me who got hurt instead of you…”
The male lead sobbed next to the injured heroine.
‘Prioritizing someone else’s well-being over your own… How irrational.’
Alphonse muttered silently to himself, words too harsh to speak aloud.
This was why, when seeking a marriage partner, the second most important condition, after the ability to bear an heir, was that she would not love him.
Countless plays and melodramatic novels glorified love as something beautiful, but he believed it was ultimately of no benefit to anyone. Love dulled reason and blurred intellect. If love was truly as poets sang and actors declared, he intended to have no part in it for life.
He stopped his train of thought when the two actors on stage began to kiss.
It was the first kiss scene of the long play. Of course, he wasn’t interested in other people’s lips meeting. What drew his attention was Chloe.
Her cheeks were flushed as she nervously swallowed. The kiss between the actors was more passionate and lengthy than expected, or at least it felt that way to her.
She had seen romance dramas and movies before. She had even seen films with more intense affection than just a kiss.
So why… why did a simple kiss make her so self-conscious and hot all over? She clenched her hands tightly.
…She had only kissed Alphonse once—on the night they tried to conceive. Even now, thinking back on it made her lower belly tingle and her whole body feel weak. Did Alphonse remember that moment?
Alphonse, seeing Chloe blush and sneak glances at him, took it all in with sharp perception. From her clenched hands to her pursed lips, it was as if her feelings were written in headlines on this morning’s paper.
His lips curled slightly. It was his first smile since the play began. He had no interest in others’ kisses, but it was impossible not to care about a kiss he shared with his own wife.
Her rosy lips, delicately painted, were enchanting. Alphonse slipped an arm around her slim waist and pulled her close. Without giving her time to say his name, he pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss wasn’t long. Chloe was jolted back to reality when she felt Alphonse lightly nibble on her lower lip. She protested, face red.
“A-Alphonse! What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
His composed response only made her more flustered. She whispered in exasperation.
“This is a public place!”
She looked like a chick challenging a cat. Alphonse’s eyes curved subtly as he thought so. Pulling her closer, he whispered in her ear.
“No one is watching, wife. That’s what this special box is for.”
The sensation of his voice in her ear was indescribably strange. Though it was just a whisper, her lower belly tingled again.
“B-but still… Ah! Alphonse, wait!”
Alphonse nibbled and kissed the top of her reddened ear. Startled like she’d been burned, Chloe scrambled for a reason to make him stop.
“Alphonse, you promised to focus on the play!”
“I am focusing.”
