The Fruit of Immorality - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Past

Beatrice married Charles eight years ago, during the winter when she was 18.

The two of them had never spent time together before their engagement was discussed. At that time, Charles was 24 years old, and Beatrice, at 18, was too young for their paths to naturally cross.

Of course, the six-year age gap was not the only issue. Their personalities were fundamentally different, making it unlikely for them to interact closely.

Beatrice was introverted and passive, preferring to read alone in the library rather than attend parties or balls. Conversations with strangers made her uncomfortable, and people showing interest in her only made her uneasy.

Charles, on the other hand, was different. He ruled the social scene with his good looks and charming speech.

People hung on his every word, even the most trivial comments. Every little action, every small smile—people paid attention to all of it. When Charles appeared, the crowd stirred, and anyone who received a glance from him felt as if they had been favored by a king.

Charles never went out of his way to refuse the affections directed toward him. He enjoyed being around people, and as a result, there were always plenty of people surrounding him.

So, even though Beatrice and Charles were often in the same places, they had never spoken. Beatrice, quiet and keeping to herself, never had the chance to interact with Charles, the darling of the social scene.

However, despite never speaking to him, Beatrice had heard bits and pieces about Charles. Such a famous person’s stories always traveled from mouth to mouth, especially the scandalous and provocative ones people loved to share.

His scandalous relationships with women. The rumors that he met a new woman every day or that he was notorious for attending secretive, sensual night parties. It was said that he was as skilled in bed as he was good-looking, and that women considered their experiences with him the best they’d ever had.

There were many stories that made the face of a naive young girl like Beatrice flush red with embarrassment.

Whenever Beatrice happened to see Charles, those whispered rumors would cross her mind. Could they really be true? She was unsure, but curiosity made her gaze linger on him, watching him absentmindedly.

This remained the case the first time they officially met after their engagement had been arranged.

Old debts and the circumstances of their elders—Beatrice didn’t know the details behind their marriage.

As a noblewoman, she understood that marrying the man her father chose for her was her duty. She had always known that she wouldn’t be able to refuse, even if her future husband was old and unattractive.

So, when her father informed her that a match had been made, she resolved to accept the outcome, no matter what it was.

But when she learned who her intended was, she was utterly shocked.

“Duke Charles Clasis?”

Her father ordered her, “Duke Clasis will visit you tomorrow, so be polite and obedient. Don’t do anything to make him call off the engagement!”

That night, still in a state of confusion, Beatrice’s thoughts were in turmoil. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? Would he make a good husband or a bad one?

On the surface, he was an extraordinary match—Charles Clasis. Wealthy, high-ranking, handsome, and charming. He was a man beyond the reach of someone like Beatrice, who only had a pretty face to offer.

But…

She couldn’t ignore the troubling rumors attached to him. In aristocratic circles, a man having multiple women wasn’t considered a significant flaw. However, Charles’ promiscuity was excessive.

Worries swirled in Beatrice’s mind, and she spent the night wide awake, unable to sleep.

The next day, when she met Charles Clasis in the drawing room…

“Good evening, Miss Beatrice. You look lovely today, as always.”

He greeted her with a bright smile, looking every bit like a prince, and Beatrice forgot all about the rumors surrounding him.

With his handsome face, courteous manners, eloquent speech, and the admiring gazes of everyone around him, it didn’t take long for the young girl to fall in love.

For a girl in love, the world looks beautiful, and the man she loves appears perfect.

At the time, Beatrice thought to herself, ‘Rumors always get exaggerated as they pass from person to person. There are so many women who admire someone as wonderful as Charles. That’s probably why such rumors spread.’

With that in mind, Beatrice was able to reassure her concerned older sister and her few close friends with a happy smile, saying, “It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll live a happy life.”

At that time, Beatrice truly believed that.

So, even up until their wedding day, she was able to endure the fact that Charles had seen other women, the fact that her first experience with him had been painful and inconsiderate, and the fact that she was expected to care for his younger brother, who had lost his parents at a young age.

But as time passed, the smile gradually faded from Beatrice’s face.

The household staff and retainers ignored her, seeing her as weak and unimportant. Her husband, who spent most of his time outside the estate, hardly ever came home. And the people in society looked down on her because she couldn’t earn her husband’s affection.

As time went on and she became more familiar with her duties, the staff began to show her a little more respect, and she grew accustomed to Charles’ long absences. She learned to tolerate the sneers of society.

But her husband’s infidelity was something she could never get used to. It continued to wound her deeply.

The first time Beatrice discovered her husband’s unfaithfulness was during the first month of her marriage.

She had refused Charles, saying that they couldn’t be intimate until her period was over. But she had to witness him casually take a maidservant to bed to satisfy his desires.

When she protested, stammering, Charles told her, “Men suffer if their sexual urges aren’t relieved. Since you couldn’t help me, I had to use another woman.”

And as if comforting her, he added, “Don’t worry. No matter how many women I meet, it won’t affect you in any way. You understand the difference between a wife and the women a man uses to relieve his desires, right?”

She couldn’t accept it. But she had no choice but to endure.

Whenever she had her period or fell ill, Charles used the same excuse to take other women to bed—sometimes women she didn’t know outside the estate, and sometimes the very maids she managed within the mansion.

At first, she tried to dismiss the maids who shared her bed with Charles, but as the number of women increased beyond her control, that became impossible.

Whenever Beatrice had to face a maid who had moaned under her husband, complex emotions overwhelmed her, and she could hardly eat.

But that was only the beginning.

After a few months of marriage, Charles began complaining that sleeping with Beatrice was boring. Her shy and passive nature had been refreshing at first, but now it bored him.

He compared her to the other women he had been with, describing in detail how much more actively they caressed and welcomed him. Charles demanded that Beatrice change.

When she couldn’t overcome her embarrassment and act more freely, Charles would stop their lovemaking midway and leave to sleep with another woman.

Left alone in bed, Beatrice would silently cry. The next morning, she would look on in despair as her husband returned smelling of another woman’s perfume.

But the pain didn’t end there. Less than a week after that incident, a woman Charles had been with spread rumors in society.

“Charles told me that his wife is stiff and dull, so he came to me.”

As her mocking words spread, Beatrice was met with disdainful gazes wherever she went.

Shaking with humiliation, Beatrice begged her husband. She pleaded for him not to meet other women, promising to do whatever he wanted if he would stop.

Charles seemed pleased at first, enjoying it whenever Beatrice spoke the vulgar words he wanted to hear and mimicked the lewd gestures he desired.

But it didn’t last long. Soon, he grew tired of her and sought out new women, like a child who couldn’t play with the same toy for long.

Whenever Beatrice tried to hold on to him, Charles would speak to her with a voice full of disdain, telling her not to act so pathetic. If she were a proper wife, she wouldn’t cling to him like this—she would stay quietly at the mansion, waiting for his return without complaint.

It was as if a spike had pierced her heart, and the pain from his words stayed with her. But it wasn’t just Charles who made her life difficult.

Outsiders gossiped relentlessly.

“How unattractive must the Duchess be for His Grace to spend every day with other women? She can’t do anything right, not even satisfy her own husband… The Duke made a poor match indeed.”

It felt like the whole world was mocking her.

She couldn’t talk to anyone about her marriage troubles. Doing so would be like spitting on her own face.

When she could no longer bear it and reached out to her family, her father rebuked her coldly.

“Can’t you keep a hold of your husband, you foolish girl? If you had done your part, your husband wouldn’t be running around outside. You belong to the Clasis family now, so your only choice is to die there. Stop whining and figure out how to please your husband!”

Unable to confide in anyone or receive any comfort, Beatrice had no choice but to swallow her emotions alone.

Time, as they say, heals all wounds. Over time, Beatrice became numb to it all. She no longer felt the same shock or pain when she saw the women who had slept with her husband.

And the love she once had for Charles… that, too, faded significantly. She realized that disappointment only comes from having expectations, so if she no longer expected anything from him, she wouldn’t be hurt or disappointed. Beatrice learned to give up.

But it wasn’t just her love for Charles that wore away. Little by little, Beatrice lost her motivation for life in general. She stopped opening up to others, afraid of being hurt again. She no longer formed attachments, nor did she express her feelings.

As a result, the once-vibrant Beatrice, who had radiated like a fresh bloom, gradually grew somber and withdrawn.

Her gloomy demeanor and timid attitude made her appear smaller and weaker, even though she was the Duchess.

Eventually, she stopped attending social events, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Hearing her family’s concerned words became unbearable, so she hadn’t seen them in a long time.

At least, in the past, Charles’ younger brother Alessandro had been in the estate…

At first, it had been awkward with the young Alessandro, but over time they grew closer. With no one else to turn to, Beatrice found comfort in him, and he helped her adjust to life at the Clasis estate.

But Alessandro had left four years ago to attend the military academy and hadn’t returned home, not even during breaks.

Left alone and isolated in the estate, Beatrice struggled each day, barely managing to endure the loneliness.

It was during one of those lonely days, as she lived each day feeling as though she were slowly dying, that a warm breeze of change blew into her life.