Chapter 9: Miss you so much

The words came out of nowhere, striking Alia's heart like a gentle blow, sending a ripple of emotion through her that left her momentarily flustered. Years of training, however, allowed her to quickly compose herself. She lowered her gaze to hide her subtle reaction, feigning indifference as she replied lightly, "You go first. I'll bathe later." She deliberately added a touch of casualness to her tone to mask the tension she felt inside.

Marcellus said nothing more but gave her a meaningful glance. His deep, penetrating eyes seemed to pierce through her pretense, seeking the emotions she had hidden. The intensity of his gaze made Alia feel as though needles pricked her back, her chest tightening under the pressure. Yet, she forced herself to remain calm, only relaxing when he turned and walked into the bathroom.

The sound of running water came from behind the closed door. Alia stood frozen in place, her thoughts unexpectedly chaotic. It was only natural for her to share a room with Marcellus—they were, after all, husband and wife. Yet since her "resurrection" into Livia's body, she had spent her time recovering, and Marcellus had been too busy to return to the castle. Now, with him initiating such intimate overtures, which were, by all accounts, typical of a husband, she found herself at a loss.

"I've walked the fine line of life and death in the underworld, but something like this…" Alia thought with a wry smile, feeling a tension unlike anything she'd faced before. The plots and mysteries surrounding the castle were suddenly pushed aside, leaving her with only one pressing question: How do I handle tonight?

Before long, the bathroom door opened, and Marcellus emerged amidst a cloud of steam. A loosely tied towel hung around his waist, damp hair falling casually over his forehead. Droplets of water traced their way down his well-defined chest, highlighting the sculpted lines of his muscles.

Alia froze for a moment, then quickly averted her gaze, pretending to busy herself with the bed linens. Her cheeks flushed a faint red, betraying the quickened beat of her heart.

"What are you standing there for?" Marcellus asked, his voice carrying a lazy magnetism that held a hint of amusement. "The water's still warm. Go wash up."

Alia glanced at him briefly, noting his composed expression that revealed no ulterior motives. Nodding lightly, she grabbed her change of clothes and hurried into the bathroom, as though fleeing from his presence.

The moment the door closed, Alia leaned against it, exhaling a long breath. Raising a hand to her flushed cheeks, she muttered inwardly, He really has no awareness, does he? Still, that body… it's hard not to notice. And now that I think about it, his face isn't bad either.

Pushing aside her swirling thoughts, Alia quickly showered, carefully drying herself before dressing. On top of her silk nightgown, she added an extra layer of clothing—a high-necked, long-sleeved garment that left nothing exposed. After hesitating briefly, she opened the bathroom door and returned to the bedroom.

Marcellus was reclining against the headboard, a book in hand, his posture relaxed yet exuding a natural elegance. He glanced up as she entered, his eyes lingering briefly on her overly modest attire before a faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Why are you dressed like that? Afraid of catching a chill?" he teased, his tone light.

Caught off guard, Alia blinked but quickly composed herself. "I'm still recovering. The doctor said I should stay warm," she replied smoothly, walking toward the other side of the bed while striving to maintain an air of nonchalance.

Marcellus raised an eyebrow but made no further comment. Closing his book, he remarked casually, "Get some rest. There's a lot to do tomorrow."

Alia nodded, outwardly calm though tension still gripped her like a taut string. She began removing her outer clothing with deliberate care, her movements light and cautious, as though afraid of disturbing the fragile equilibrium between them.

The moment her outerwear slipped off, her silk nightgown came into view. The fabric clung to her form, its soft sheen accentuating her elegant curves. Livia's tall, slender frame, paired with her ivory-white skin and delicately defined collarbones, created a quiet allure. The hem of the gown skimmed just above her knees, revealing long, graceful legs that carried a subtle, understated seductiveness. Her slightly damp hair cascaded over her shoulders, adding a touch of languid charm to her appearance.

Though Alia kept her gaze lowered, avoiding direct eye contact, she was acutely aware of Marcellus's intense focus on her. His attention felt like an unspoken force, searing and impossible to ignore. Her heart raced uncontrollably, but she managed to maintain her composure, carefully hanging up her discarded clothes before climbing into bed.

Her movements were measured, her posture refined and reserved as she adjusted herself on the mattress. But the faint sound of Marcellus's unguarded breaths reached her ears, an audible reminder of his presence that only heightened her unease.

She shut her eyes, willing herself to calm down, but her mind remained a turbulent mess.

The next moment, she felt a warm, firm arm encircle her waist.

Marcellus had shifted, pulling her into his embrace. His breath was warm against her ear as he murmured in a deep, tender voice, "I've missed you so much."