Forget My Husband, I’ll Go Make Money

A Trap (7)

* * *

Aristine sat on the sofa with her head lowered.

She figured everything would be fine since the royal doctor came right away but the anxiety in her heart refused to leave.

‘Now I understand why I was behaving like that with Tarkan in the mirrored surface.’

Even now when she was already prepared because she saw the future, her heart was still trembling so much.

‘It must be worse for Tarkan, as His Majesty’s son.’

But in the Monarch’s Sight, she was being comforted by Tarkan instead. This time, it was her turn to comfort Tarkan.

Aristine put on a smile and stretched out a hand to Tarkan.

“It’s okay, it’s alright.”

She patted him on the shoulder, and Tarkan gave her a strange look.

“What are you doing?”

“I know His Majesty suddenly collapsed…” Aristine mumbled and patted Tarkan again as if to comfort him, “Don’t worry. His Majesty will be fine. He will be up and about very soon.”

Tarkan frowned and asked Aristine, “What is this?”

“I’m just trying to comfort you,” Aristine smiled. She was trying to be kind, but it wasn’t working.

She thought he was also—.

“Then why are you so far away?”

“Huh?”

Even though Aristine was patting Tarkan, she was sitting very far from him.

Anyone could see that her arms were stretched unnaturally, and she was gently tapping him with just her fingertips.

“No, it’s just…”

Aristine faltered and looked away.

Tarkan narrowed his eyes at her unusual behavior.

Aristine felt even more flustered under his gaze. She couldn’t help but purse her lips.

‘Ugh, why do I keep thinking about this?’

Was it because she remembered how Tarkan comforted her?

She kept thinking about how she and Tarkan were in the exact same room, at the exact same time, and on the exact same couch.

His arms had been wrapped around her waist and her own arms wrapped around his neck. Her whole body was pressed against him, and she was completely reliant on Tarkan’s support.

And her face was on his soft chest…

‘No, no! That is really not the point!’

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Why, what’s wrong with what?”

At Tarkan’s question, Aristine sprang up on the sofa.

“Why do you keep backing away like that?”

“Me?”

Aristine gave an incredulous laugh, but in reality, she was moving further away from Tarkan and sticking to the edge.

She hesitated a little, then slowly moved back to Tarkan.

It felt like the closer she got, the closer she was to the chest that she rubbed her face on in the mirrored surface. How did it feel to have a hard yet soft and flexible chest touch your face?

It was unfair that she could only see that she had done it but couldn’t feel it.

Aristine unconsciously clenched and unclenched her fist to gauge the sensation.

Then she gasped and came to her senses. What was she even talking about? Unfair?!

‘Why can’t Irugoian attire be modest instead of exposing the chest so much?’

It’s not that she was a pervert.

While blaming the poor clothes, Aristine tightly squeezed the train of her skirt.

At that moment, Tarkan straightened himself on the sofa. The safe distance that she had been trying to maintain instantly disappeared, and Aristine unconsciously clung to the backrest.

“You’ve been acting like this since earlier; what is it?”

“What? Royal father is unwell so I was just trying to comfort you since you must be worried?”

Tarkan’s expression sank at Aristine’s words.

He was already feeling upset and now that even Aristine was acting strange, he felt frustrated.

Since she wanted to act like this, he had his own ideas.

“You want to comfort me?”

“Mhm.”

Aristine reached out again and timidly patted Tarkan.

Seeing that, Tarkan extended his lips

“The comfort I want—.”

While Aristine gasped, Tarkan’s hand caught her arm. Instantly, she was pulled powerlessly into his arms.

His arms wrapped around her slender waist.

Aristine couldn’t think straight anymore. A part of it was because it happened so fast, but…

‘It’s hot…’

Another part of it was because her cheek immediately fell on Tarkan’s bare chest.

That warm, soft, yet firm and springy bread…uh, chest, was pressed against her cheek.

It felt completely different from when she touched it with her hands.

‘No, not the feeling, the texture.’

Aristine fought hard to stop her mind from drifting away.

Tarkan buried his face in her neck and took in a deep breath. The moment he felt her soft and warm body, and her scent filled his chest, his mind instantly calmed down and the tips of his fingers felt tingly.

Only then did Tarkan realize that his nerves were on edge.

Even though he thought of his father as someone who wouldn’t die even if you stabbed him, and thought this would be fine, a part of him must have felt vulnerable.

But when he was hugging Aristine like this, relief bubbled up from deep within his heart.

“This is what I want.”

He whispered, his breath touching her sensitive skin, and Aristine broke out in goosebumps.

“Ta, Tarkan…”

Aristine struggled to get a hold of herself and pulled her face away from his chest.

She wanted to leave his embrace, but Tarkan gently cupped her cheek and whispered.

“Comfort should be tailored to the person receiving it, right?”

His golden eyes were like honey.

When you are drawn to that sweet smell, it sticks to you and makes you unable to escape.

“Comfort me.”

Tarkan pressed his forehead against Aristine’s.

His glossy hair, like a raven’s feathers, mingled with Aristine’s silver hair. He gently rubbed his forehead against hers like he was asking to be stroked and comforted.

Aristine hesitated but reached out her hand to him.

When she thought about them getting divorced later, she knew there was nothing good about getting too close, but that thought only flickered faintly like an exhausted candle.

Just like Tarkan did in the mirrored surface, it was now her turn to comfort him.

Aristine’s fingers slowly combed through his hair. She gently stroked down and combed once again.

Tarkan closed his eyes and sank into her touch. He tightened his hold around her waist and pulled her body closer.

Their bodies were pressed against each other, without so much as a space to breath.

Aristine slowly blinked her eyes.

Their lips were close enough to touch if she lifted her head a little more.

She lowered her gaze, not removing her hand that was caressing Tarkan’s hair. Light gathered on her long eyelashes, making them glisten beautifully.

Tarkan couldn’t take her eyes off her luscious red lips contrasting against her pale skin.

His gaze on Aristine rose to a feverish peak.

His head dropped lower without a sound.

As if giving a forewarning, his breath fell on Aristine’s lips.