I Became My Son's First Love - Chapter 6

“Azazel.”

The Count called out, as if reminding him to be respectful, but Azazel ignored him.

Without even properly looking at Eve, he asked, “…How old are you?”

It was probably directed at Eve. No matter how strained their relationship was, he certainly knew his own father’s age.

Eve answered, “I’m twenty years old this year.”

“Twenty…,” Azazel muttered, echoing her words. He fell silent again, prompting the Count to raise his voice slightly.

“Azazel.”

In response, Azazel abruptly stood up and said, “I’ll report this to my mother. Something urgent has come up, so I must leave.”

The Count, too taken aback to say anything, watched as Azazel turned to Eve.

“…I’ll arrange another time for the meal. Just call me Azazel, and you can speak to me comfortably.”

Eve, somewhat bewildered, nodded. “Alright.”

Azazel hesitated for a moment, meeting her gaze briefly before turning on his heel and leaving the dining room.

Once the door closed and they were left alone, the Count grumbled, clearly displeased, “How rude.”

Eve shrugged. “Well, at least he was polite enough.”

“What?”

The Count looked at her, surprised, and Eve elaborated, “At least he said we’ll meet again, even if it was just a formality. And he told me how to address him.”

Eve could understand Azazel’s reaction. She herself wasn’t particularly close to her parents, but if her father had remarried four times, and his new spouse was younger than her, she’d feel unsettled, too. And on top of that, his former wife—Azazel’s mother—had introduced the new spouse. If Eve had been in his shoes, she would have stormed out of the room as well.

It seemed the eldest son was more sensitive than she had expected. However, the Count didn’t appear to agree with her assessment.

“What about everything before that?”

Azazel hadn’t exactly been polite, even if his parting words had been. But there wasn’t much Eve could do. She was the outsider here, the one who had been brought into the family, and she knew her place. Azazel, the future Duke of Seratine, was not just any nobleman—he was a grandson of the beloved imperial princess and even had a claim to the throne. Eve was the one who needed to tread carefully in this situation.

Viewing the matter pragmatically, Eve concluded calmly, “As long as it ended well, it’s fine. So, are we going to eat? I’m hungry since I skipped breakfast.”

She meant it. Eve was genuinely hungry, but it seemed the servants had hesitated to bring out the food after Azazel had stormed out. The Count looked at her as if he couldn’t understand.

“Were you really planning to eat?”

“What else do you do at a meal?”

Whatever had amused him, the Count’s expression softened, and he rang the bell to call in the servants.

As the food was brought in, the Count asked cautiously, “Are you alright eating alone?”

Apparently, neither the Count nor Azazel had any intention of eating. Truthfully, Eve found it more comfortable to dine alone, as eating with them would have been awkward.

She nodded readily. “I prefer eating alone.”

After hesitating for a moment, the Count finally stood. “Well then, forgive me, but I’ll take my leave as well.”

To be honest, Eve was more surprised that he actually seemed apologetic. She made sure not to show too much satisfaction as she responded, “Of course, go ahead.”

As he walked past her, the Count patted her shoulder and leaned in slightly.

“When I send for you later, come to my room.”

She wasn’t sure if the invitation still stood. Whatever urgent matter had caused him to leave seemed pressing, but despite that, he still wanted to find time for her.

‘What could he possibly want to talk about?’

Eve tilted her head in curiosity as she glanced at the Count’s firm hand, which had brushed against her bare shoulder. She nodded.

After the Count left the dining room, Eve absently rubbed the lingering warmth from her shoulder. His touch had been a little too suggestive, but any unease she felt was quickly forgotten as she focused on the delicious food set before her.

***

Having overeaten at lunch, Eve skipped her usual tea time and dinner. Later that evening, as she lounged in her room, she was startled by the sudden arrival of a group of maids.

“What’s going on?”

The maids, faces full of excitement, answered eagerly, “We heard you’ll be visiting the master’s room tonight.”

“I will, yes. But why is that important?”

Eve was confused about why her visit to the Count’s room would excite them so much. The maids exchanged shy glances before one finally spoke up, “Because tonight is finally…!”

“Your wedding night!”

The excitement in the room made Eve click her tongue, as though it didn’t concern her. The maids assigned to her had many good qualities: they were kind, skilled, and treated her with respect as the Countess. But they tended to cross boundaries far too often.

Eve made a mental note of each of their faces before responding, “I don’t think you can call it a wedding night.”

“But the butler told us to prepare!”

“The butler?”

That changed things. The butler had been with the Count since he was the heir to the family and knew his master better than anyone. If the butler had given the order, it likely reflected the Count’s wishes. Eve began to feel conflicted.

‘Is he really planning on consummating the marriage now? After all this time?’

It seemed the Count had taken quite a liking to her appearance today. Eve hadn’t missed the suggestive glances and touches during lunch. She had expected this eventually. After all, they were married. However, since the Count hadn’t attended the wedding or even returned to the estate for the past month, Eve had assumed he had no intention of sharing a bed with her.

‘I can’t do this right now.’

She wasn’t emotionally unprepared for the intimacy; the real issue was the contraceptive pills she had recently stopped taking.

Eve didn’t want to have children. More accurately, she didn’t feel confident in raising one. It wasn’t that she hated or loved children—she simply prioritized herself. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have pursued an education with the money Cynthia worked so hard to earn, nor would she have spent the meager earnings of the Jenna estate on her appearance. Eve wasn’t naive or foolish about where the money came from.

The reason Eve hadn’t pursued any of the marriage offers, despite the many broken engagements, was because she hadn’t wanted to settle for a match that suited the standards of the Jenna family. The prospective husbands had all been old, ugly, overweight, rude, and ill-mannered.

The marriage to Count Hound had been, in part, a way to help Cynthia, but it had also been a calculated decision on Eve’s part. Count Hound was an ideal match for her in every way. His only flaw was his notorious infidelity, but Eve knew that noble marriages weren’t fairy tales. She wasn’t naive enough to reject the wealth and status of the Count simply because there was no love in the marriage. As long as she maintained a decent relationship with him, she could live comfortably for the rest of her life.

Because of this, Eve had considered the possibility of intimacy before the marriage. According to gossip, the Count was exceptionally well-endowed, and his skills in bed were renowned. Since noble marriages often required regular intimacy for the sake of producing heirs, Eve had reasoned that if she had to do it, she might as well do it with someone who was both skilled and attractive. The marriage contract, which relieved her of the burden of producing an heir, only made her decision more satisfying.

For these reasons, Eve had prepared carefully, even taking contraceptives after the wedding, in case the Count decided to visit her. But he hadn’t come to her for a whole month, and, feeling it was a waste of money and effort, Eve had stopped taking the pills just last week.

‘And now, of all times?’

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Taking the pills again now wouldn’t guarantee protection, as they needed to be taken at least a week in advance. She considered asking the Count to use contraception, but given his history of fathering numerous illegitimate children, she wasn’t sure how cooperative he would be.

Thankfully, Eve had a valid excuse.

‘The contract. I can use the contract. He can’t ignore that.’

She was relieved that she had added that clause to the contract. Still, just in case, she considered bringing the contract with her to their meeting. While Eve was lost in thought, the maids busied themselves preparing for what they assumed would be her wedding night.