Ficorpio
Chapter 1
The men of House Ashford suffered from an inherited Bloodline Fever. Whichever woman a man gave himself to first would be the only woman capable of easing his condition for the rest of his life.
So when Adrian Ashford came to ask for my hand, I accepted without hesitation.
But on our wedding night, he discovered I was not a virgin and subjected me to endless humiliation.
For years afterward, whenever we shared a bed, he demanded to know who my first man had been.
“You deceitful, heartless woman. You ruined my entire life…”
I thought his accusations terribly unjust.
He had been the one who clung to me that night and begged me to take him. He had promised to come and ask for my hand, insisting that I must accept when he did.
Why, then, did he now refuse to admit it?
It was not until today, when the gravely ill younger son of House Ashford returned home, that I learned he and Adrian were identical twins.
Only then did the truth strike me.
Adrian had not wronged me after all.
Or rather, not in the way I had believed.
According to legend, the Ashford Founding Patriarch had been a famously faithless man. He was handsome, brilliant, and utterly without conscience.
He broke the hearts of more women than anyone could count and never once repented.
Then he seduced a mysterious woman from beyond the civilized world, deceiving her into falling in love with him. Unfortunately for him, she possessed powers he could never have imagined. She laid a curse upon his bloodline and became the Ashford Ancestral Matriarch.
From that day forward, every man born to House Ashford suffered from the Bloodline Fever. No matter how handsome or gifted an Ashford man might be, only one woman could ever relieve his torment.
For that reason, the men of the family were forced to remain chaste and choose their wives with the utmost care.
I was the carefully selected bride of Adrian Ashford, the elder son of the family.
The day House Ashford came to propose, every unmarried lady in the Royal Capital envied me. Even my mother, who constantly complained that I would never amount to anything, said I had been blessed with extraordinary luck.
At the time, I thought so too.
Adrian was not merely handsome. He was also a man of his word. That night, he had promised to ask for my hand, and less than a fortnight later, the Ashfords arrived to arrange the marriage.
But I never expected Adrian to become a different man the moment our marriage was consummated.
“You… were not a virgin?”
I stared at him in confusion.
Chapter 2
I did not understand what he meant. Had he not already been the one to…
“Of course I wasn’t. What are you talking about?”
Adrian looked as though lightning had struck him.
“You… You…” Casting aside all trace of his earlier tenderness, he shoved me away and muttered blankly, “I guarded my virtue for all these years, only to give myself to a woman like you!”
I did not know what had happened, but even I could tell he was furious with me.
“My husband?”
Adrian sprang from the marriage bed and forbade me to touch him again, not even the edge of his clothes.
“Evelyn Bennett, I never imagined you were this sort of woman. I chose disastrously.”
With that cold declaration, he abandoned me on our wedding night.
Yet seven days later, he returned of his own accord.
In the dead of night, he climbed through my window, his clothes in disarray, and collapsed to his knees beside my bed.
“Evelyn, save me…” He clutched my wrist and refused to let go. His entire body burned with a terrifying heat, and he pressed against me in desperate supplication. “Please.”
The pitiful sight reminded me irresistibly of the night we had first met.
I have never been good at holding grudges, so I saved him.
The moment his fever passed, however, he turned against me again.
“If it weren’t for this illness, I would never touch you.”
I went still. Then I pulled the covers up to conceal my body.
He appeared to mean it.
He truly meant that he did not like me.
“I understand.”
Adrian faltered. He turned his face away and said nothing more.
His body, however, cared little for his wishes.
No matter how much he despised or resented me, he came to my bed whenever the appointed time arrived.
And I was hopelessly softhearted. Each time I saw him reduced to such a miserable state, I forgave him all over again.
As the years passed, Adrian seemed to come to terms with his fate. Eventually, he stopped waiting for the fever to strike. He came whenever he pleased.
He said it was my duty as his wife.
I did not argue.
But in bed, he always demanded the same thing.
“Who was your first man?”
At such moments, I hardly had the presence of mind to think.
“You were.” I looked straight into his face and told him the truth. “There has never been anyone but you.”
It had been the depths of winter. I was staying at Southmere Abbey, lighting candles in the sanctuary.
Beyond the threshold, snow fell thick and fast.
Chapter 3
Sometime after midnight, a young gentleman appeared from nowhere and dragged himself into the sanctuary. In a wretched state, he crawled toward me, sank to his knees, and begged me to save his life.
He introduced himself as a son of House Ashford from the Royal Capital and promised he would come to ask for my hand.
“My lady, surely you know of the Ashford bloodline. If you save me tonight, I will belong to you for the rest of my life.”
It was deep into the night, and the candles burned dimly. When a beautiful, devoted man crawled to your side under such circumstances, he could only be a devil or a gift from heaven.
Naturally, I hesitated.
But he clung to my gown sash and gazed up at me with heartbreaking sincerity.
“My lady, saving one life will earn you more sacred merit than lighting ten thousand candles.”
The only thing I had ever prayed for was a good marriage.
So I sacrificed myself to save him.
When Adrian came to propose, however, he despised me for my lack of chastity.
“Me?”
Adrian gripped my chin, his smile cold and mocking. “My wife, you truly have a heart of stone. Even after years of marriage, you still refuse to name your lover.”
I felt horribly wronged.
Had he forgotten that night, or did he simply refuse to acknowledge it because he enjoyed humiliating me?
“Adrian, if you refuse to admit it, then so be it.”
“You expect me to claim responsibility?” His anger sharpened. He caught my cheeks in a painful grip. “I came to you untouched. You are the only woman I can ever have. But you? All you have to do is close your eyes, and you’re thinking of another man!”
He was entirely unreasonable.
I was remembering the past, but the man in those memories was him.
Eventually, I grew tired of being questioned. I stopped trying to explain and let him believe whatever he pleased.
Adrian became even more unpredictable.
Sometimes, he flew into a rage.
“I wanted to find someone who loved me and spend my life with her. You ruined everything…”
Sometimes, he sank into bitter despair.
“Never touch me again. Let me die. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Once I’m dead, you can run back to your lover and relive your precious memories together!”
Sometimes, suspicion consumed him.
“Who was it? A footman from the manor? A guard? A groom? You spent time in Southmere. Was it some handsome monk? Tell me! Why won’t you tell me?”
I began to think that sooner or later, one of us would lose our mind.
At last, I could bear no more.
“If that is how you feel, then let us dissolve our marriage.”
The man who had been raving only a moment before fell instantly silent.
“What did you say? Dissolve our marriage?”
Adrian stared at me in disbelief. Slowly, his eyes reddened.
“If you leave me, you may as well kill me.”