Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 44: Do they not hurt?

Chapter 44: Do they not hurt?

"I failed to take you on a honeymoon. Why would I have built the cabin for it?" He replied nonchalantly, stepping further into the cabin. His tone was evasive, but Belle wasn’t ready to let the matter rest. She reached out, grabbing his wrist firmly.

"The drawings, the aquarium, the ocean—it’s exactly as I described it. No changes, no differences. Don’t deny it, Quinn," she pressed, her voice unwavering. Memories of her dream came flooding back, the Phoenix Ocean, the place she had longed to visit but never had the chance. Could this be the ocean?

Quinn turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Don’t you think reminiscing about your ex-lover is unfair to your new one?" He deflected, attempting to change the subject.

"Don’t make this about him!" She snapped, her voice rising. "I demand an answer." Her grave tone left no room for teasing, and for a moment, he faltered.

"I made it for Sofia," he finally said, his voice calm but his words hollow. "She’s a sea lover, just like you."

Belle scoffed, letting go of his wrist. "Sofia can’t even stand the sight of a live fish. A sea lover, you say?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Fine. I won’t push it."

She recalled vividly the time Sofia had insisted the aquarium at the Duke’s mansion entrance be removed, claiming she was terrified of the fish. It had been during the period when Belle had made herself invisible, playing the role of the perfect, docile woman, all to secure the divorce papers.

Quinn said nothing, his silence speaking volumes. He didn’t even attempt to defend his lie, and Belle felt her frustration turn into resignation. Why was she still trying to understand him?

"Come on," she said finally, her voice softer now. "Have a seat. I will treat your cut." She turned her attention to the room, scanning for medical supplies. Spotting a small kit on the desk, she grabbed it and made her way back to him.

Quinn was already seated on the couch, waiting for her.

She sat beside him, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. Her expression was unreadable, focused entirely on her task. Quinn watched her in silence, unable to tear his gaze away. Her closeness, her scent, it had a calming effect on him, one he found himself craving amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

"Your arms," she said softly, prompting him to lift them so she could remove the shirt completely. Once it was off, she tossed it aside, barely sparing it a glance.

"This will hurt," she warned, handing him a small, thick cloth. He took it but placed it on the bed beside him, ignoring her intent.

She turned his body slightly, positioning him so his back was fully exposed to her. Her breath caught as her eyes traced the numerous scars marring his skin. They were deep, brutal, and endless.

How had he endured so much? she wondered, her heart aching at the sight. How many battles had he fought? How much pain had he withstood to carry these marks?

"Do I look less attractive now?" Quinn teased lightly, attempting to break the tension. But Belle was lost in thought, her hand hovering over one of the scars. Gently, she let her fingers trail along its jagged edges, her touch featherlight.

"Do they not hurt?" She asked quietly, her voice tinged with sadness as she traced the scars one by one.

"Pain is useless to warriors. We don’t have time to feel pain when we are already dead inside," he replied coldly, his words heavy with resignation. Belle let out a soft sigh, her chest tightening at the weight of his response.

"How did you hide them from me? How did I never see them?" She asked, her voice tinged with confusion and regret. The man before her felt more like a stranger with each passing moment. Was there anything she truly knew about him? She realized she had only seen him unclothed twice, both times during their brief and passion-filled encounters. Thinking back, it had always been in the dark, leaving her without a clear image of him.

"You never asked to see them," he said simply, and her heart ached at the truth in his words.

"Is there more about you that I should know?" She ventured, her voice quieter now.

"No, because..." he began, but she cut him off, finishing his sentence bitterly, "Because I am not your woman?"

"No," he corrected firmly, his tone softening just slightly. "Because it’s useless."

His words struck a chord within her, and though she wanted to press further, she remained silent, focusing on treating his wound.

Despite the sting of the medicines she applied, Quinn didn’t flinch or utter a sound. His stoic demeanor unnerved her, but she pushed through, finishing the task with as much care as she could muster. Once the wound was cleaned and bandaged, she stepped away, leaving him to himself.

Belle moved to sit by the fireplace, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. Everything about this moment felt wrong... the memories of the man who had caused her pain, the man she thought she knew, and the man now sitting before her.

When had it all gone so awry? Was it from the moment she met him? Or perhaps it began with their first misunderstanding? But if he wasn’t the man she thought he was, why had he done what he did? Why had he caused her so much grief? Why had he made her miscarry? Why had he screamed at her with such fury?

As the questions swirled in her mind, she couldn’t pinpoint the reason behind their countless arguments. They had often been baseless, petty even, leaving her to wonder where his accusations had come from.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Quinn approached, holding a white shirt in his hands. "Change into this. I don’t have any women’s clothes here, so it will have to do until we leave tomorrow," he said, holding the shirt out to her.

"You expect me to wear only that?" Sheasked incredulously, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You can have the cabin all to yourself tonight, my Queen," he teased with a smirk.

Belle hissed in irritation, snatching the shirt from his hands. As he turned to leave, she spoke firmly, "Stay." Then, without waiting for a response, she disappeared into the bathroom.

"I wasn’t planning to leave," he murmured under his breath, stripping off his pants and lying down on the bed.

When Belle emerged from the bathroom, she peeked cautiously into the room, exhaling in relief when she saw that he was already asleep. Quietly, she slipped out, laid her gown on the desk, and moved to the couch.

The shirt was her only covering, leaving her entirely bare beneath it. While a small voice inside her warned that it might be a mistake, she trusted him not to cross any boundaries. Comforted by that thought, she curled up on the couch, resolving to wake before him so she could change back into her gown.

With her plan settled, she drifted off to sleep, the soft glow of the fire lulling her into uneasy dreams.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.