Reynard gazed steadily at his husband, whose voice, eyes, and hands were trembling like an aspen leaf, shocked by the numerous reports. Unlike the frivolous aspen in front of him, he had a calm smile and fond eyes. A low, affectionate voice flowed from his curved lips.

“Probably the ducal family’s secretary or lawyer?”

“Oh, don’t talk like it’s someone else’s business…”

Valentin put his hand to his forehead.

Who on earth is this insider? And who is this baron to be commenting on our reception party? Is he some big shot in the party world I don’t know about? Valentin gaped in bewilderment at the interview article arbitrarily evaluating what Viscountess Wiche had prepared while cutting back on sleep. A strange name like ‘Baron Willoughby’. It’s a name he’d never heard before, and how he even got into the reception party is a mystery.

And they’re all so quick too. He didn’t expect not just newspapers, but weekly magazines and journals to report on their wedding so swiftly. Did they leave blank pages and just type up articles the very next day? Was public interest that high?

Though only a few days had passed since the wedding day, everyone was excessively fast. Valentin clicked his tongue as he skimmed through them again with his eyes.

“I told them to control the media to some extent because you said you didn’t like it…”

“Control?”

It’s true he said he didn’t like making a big fuss in the articles, but he didn’t think pressure would be applied.

“It seems some parts weren’t controlled.”

Reynard said, picking up ‘Melissa’s Home Journal’ strewn beside the sofa where Valentin sat. While it did include an article about the reception, otherwise it was a magazine for ladies, just as the name suggested.

Well, it’s an excessively harmless weekly. Really just as its name implies, with recipes, garden care tips, specifically how to maintain satin shoes for longevity… The ducal family might have let it slide…

The paper fluttering in Reynard’s hand had a drawing of their wedding cake, which was the talk of the reception party. How detailed it is even amid all this… Who on earth was sketching there… Oh my. Valentin sighed like an old lady and neatly organized the scattered items around.

“Don’t do that. I’ll call a servant.”

“It’s fine. This much is nothing.”

If you don’t even do this much tidying and don’t want to move, you’ll get lazy. Valentin added. He had become much more combative about life since getting engaged. This is the difference between being single and married. Valentin displayed his diligence as usual, drawing on his taut tension.

Just as the white hands were about to tidy up where they were sitting, Reynard came over and naturally took the scattered newspapers Valentin was holding. Then he cleared away the rest to a corner of the table himself.

Clatter clatter.

The sound of the train running on the tracks was heard incessantly.

They had been traveling by train for two days already. This luxurious mode of transport they were comfortably lounging in first class was a newly launched train from the railway company operated by the Wiche family. It was something special targeting nobles or wealthy gentry. The abbreviation ‘GSR’ for Great Southern Railway, the name of the railway company, was noticeable embossed here and there in first class.

An ultra-luxurious first-class car, occupying an entire carriage, was being used for their honeymoon. It was a place made like a small reception room of a noble family, with expensive carpets laid on the entire floor of the carriage. There was even a small bed in a space partitioned off. It was the thoughtfulness of Viscount Wiche who loved his son.

“Let me check your temperature.”

Reynard got up from where he had been sitting across the fixed table and sat down next to Valentin. He gently embraced the delicate body’s waist, placing him beside himself, and put his right hand on his forehead.

“Hmm…”

The hand on his forehead didn’t leave for quite a while. It was obvious he had never checked someone’s temperature in his entire life. Because he had never had anyone that close, and both the Duke and his son, who were each other’s only family, had iron constitutions that never got fevers.

Valentin stared blankly at Reynard’s face, who had his eyes closed in concentration while touching his forehead. How can someone’s face be so serious just to check a temperature… It looked like the face of someone pondering a serious international issue. It also seemed a bit like his own expression when worrying about the dinner menu… It was so absurd, he couldn’t help but laugh.

The large hand repeatedly stroked under his chin and forehead, but his face was still puzzled.

Just as Valentin had observed, Reynard was deep in thought. He had clearly learned from the Wiche family doctor before leaving how to lightly check a temperature without a thermometer, but it was of no use at all. Reynard recalled the method he had learned was most reliable and brought their foreheads together. Like that, with their foreheads pressed together like idiots, another age passed.

“Pfft.”

Unable to hold it in any longer at that sight, laughter burst from Valentin’s mouth. Due to the sudden laughter escaping through his lips, saliva sprayed like mist onto the handsome face in front of him. Though he flinched at the sprayed saliva for a moment, Reynard focused only on checking the temperature without any change in expression.

This is true love, true love indeed. Valentin muttered inwardly, watching Reynard endure the baptism of saliva.

“Can you tell like that?”

This person has things he can’t do too. The large, rough hands kept feeling his forehead and face, but it was obvious there was no harvest.

“…Ahem…”

Reynard cleared his throat with a rare slightly embarrassed face.

“Tell me quickly.”

As Valentin grinned and rubbed his face against the large hand, the slightly crumbled-faced alpha unconsciously opened his mouth.

“No… I’m sorry, but I really can’t tell at all.”

“I thought so.”

“I suppose I’ll have to get the thermometer out.”

As he said decisively and tried to get up, Valentin held him back.

“It’s fine. I don’t have a fever anymore.”

There had been no fever for the past three days. But still not believing it and checking his temperature every hour like this, Valentin giggled at his amusing husband.

That night, after the nuptial mass and reception were all over.

Valentin collapsed groaning, let alone having a wedding night. It was because he hadn’t listened when Reynard or other family members said he could go in now.

The entire schedule had been too much.

Both the process of rushed preparations for nearly a month, and the all-day wedding.

The result was a slight fever and some overwork. Overestimating his health out of a sense of duty to work hard and running through the packed schedule without cutting corners had indeed taken its toll. Valentin apologized to Reynard with a constantly apologetic face.

[I’m sorry…]

[Don’t say that.]

The alpha’s face had hardened even more upon hearing the apology. Valentin recalled Reynard from that evening when he had collapsed. With an anxious face, he had stayed by Valentin’s bedside without lying down even once.

[You must be disappointed the wedding night was ruined…]

That night, when Valentin joked with a faint smile, his face became even more grim. The words he said while wiping his face and body with a warm wet towel every hour came to Valentin’s mind.

[What does that matter when you’re sick?]

[Why isn’t the fever going down even though you took medicine?]

[Are you uncomfortable? Should I turn you to the other side?]

[Tell me anytime if you want to wash up. I’ll prepare it right away.]

For two days straight while suffering from a low fever, the newly married groom personally nursed his husband. Staying at the Wiche Viscount’s residence for four days until Valentin was completely healthy.

In fact, Valentin had worried that it might be uncomfortable to stay at his in-laws’ and receive care without even being able to leave for their honeymoon right away while he was sick. But seeing Reynard still going around proudly with his head held high, he pushed aside such useless emotions. This person would probably strut confidently among the twelve gods even if he suddenly fell into the temple of Olympus. Shamelessly shattering Dionysus’ excitement…

Rather, he stood firmly by Valentin’s side to the point where the family members together later felt awkward and embarrassed.

Anyway, that’s how their honeymoon was delayed due to fever after finishing the wedding.

Yesterday, he boarded the train heading to their honeymoon destination with Reynard, feeling light.

Even though they had stayed at a luxurious hotel at an intermediate stop last night, and were just sitting idly in the train now, the husband who had already fallen into the swamp of worry checked Valentin’s temperature every hour as if looking at a traveler wandering a treacherous path in the wilderness.

Though he had completely recovered, the once-startled alpha still couldn’t let go of his concern.

Valentin grinned at Reynard, who was still holding his face.

“I’m really fine now. I told you earlier too.”

“Alright. Be sure to tell me if you feel sick.”

“Okay.”

He kissed the face full of concern.

He was an admirable person. If it were him, he wouldn’t have been able to act so proudly yet calmly. If the situation were reversed, he would have been constantly uncomfortable and watching for cues at the ducal residence. Being clumsy and unable to nurse properly, just anxiously pacing instead.

It was devoted nursing, putting aside all gazes, discomfort, and fatigue.

Valentin was newly moved, ruminating on the admirable qualities of his newly married husband. Somehow misinterpreting his slightly reddening eyes, Reynard said urgently:

“Maybe we should have rested a few more days before leaving.”

Reynard sighed, brushing Valentin’s hair.

“What? No way. I’ve been looking forward to this trip so much.”

If they left later, the already short honeymoon period would become even shorter. That was unacceptable. The honeymoon was the schedule Valentin had most looked forward to in this marriage.

“You were looking forward to it?”

“Yes. I’ve been looking forward to it since I found out the destination.”

Their destination was a small island off the west coast of Blanche, a neighboring country.

Île Saint-Phiel. It was a place so close to the mainland it was embarrassing to call it an island, becoming an island only at high tide.

Usually it was flat cupcake-shaped terrain attached to the mainland like land, but when high tide came and seawater filled the low-lying areas, it became an island. It was famous for its geographically unique and beautiful natural scenery, and as a result was a popular tourist destination for artists.

However, due to its geographical characteristics, there were limits to development and progress was slow. So it wasn’t at all the kind of luxurious tourist destination that nobles usually frequented.

In the center of the island was a historic monastery, below which was a quaint village of low buildings, and there were no proper hotels. There were only small lodgings run by villagers.

Reynard had purchased the most luxurious mansion on such an island for this day.

The reason this place became their honeymoon destination was actually simple. It started with a tip from his aide, who prided himself on knowing Valentin well based on information he had secretly investigated and picked up.

[Colonel. From what I hear, Lord Wiche prefers modest travel where he can mingle with ordinary people.]

The contents of Shane’s secret interviews with the Wiche family servants, disguised in not-so-funny costumes, were shining. The usually cold-blooded superior’s face softened and looked intrigued when his husband was mentioned.

[Really?]

[Yes. I heard he finds overly aristocratic things tiresome.]

That was decisive. Reynard immediately modified the honeymoon to be a modest trip where they could travel comfortably with their identities hidden.