There are three main efforts that Kris makes in order to somewhat maintain his shared relationship with Victoria. His determination is not as much out of desire as it is out of need, but Kris does what is necessary to get by.

If he wanted a peaceful life, he would first need to ensure his parents that he isn’t neglecting his duties as the first and only son. Therefore, first of all, he remains aware of his wife‘s concerns; if she were at ease, his life would, by association, be much less painful.

“No, that dress does not make you look fat. That’s what the corset is for, Victoria!”

His wife glares at him, anger raging in the pit of her stomach. “That wasn’t even—“

“And that blush makes you look like you boiled your cheeks in hot water. Would you kindly remove it?”

Confused, she glances into a nearby mirror and swipes a finger across her cheek. “I’m not even weari—“

“And those shoes! Dear god, Victoria, how many times have I told you those are not appropriate for social gatherings?”

Fed up with his odd outburst, Victoria turns to her maids and gestures for them to ignore the young man’s behavior. Kris continues rambling on and on about subjects that clearly do not matter until Victoria is finished getting dressed, standing before him in deep frustration.

“Are you done?” She asks.

Kris gives her a look of disbelief. “I could ask you the same.”

“You’re being impossible,” Victoria scolds him, “and I’m not even wearing blush!”

At that, Kris begins to laugh with his head thrown back, bemused by the expression his wife is wearing on her face. He leans forward and pinches her cheek, inspecting his fingers to confirm that her makeup is as nonexistent as the reasons behind his complaints, and nods. “You aren’t.”

“What was that even about?” Victoria mutters under her breath, sighing as she checks herself in the mirror once more.

He just smiles weakly and wraps her arm around his while leading her out into the hallway. “Nothing really.”

Truth is, Kris had been aware that his mother had called Victoria out for a quick chat just that morning before they were both informed there was a lunch appointment they would have to attend with the city judge. When that happens—as in, when his mother pulls his wife aside—he knows nothing good would come out of it.

Sure enough, Victoria had returned without so much as a smile. Worried that her discouragement would affect her behavior at their scheduled lunch with an important figure, all he wanted was to take her mind off of the matter.

“Did you mention you were going hunting this evening with a few fellows?” Victoria asks.

Kris nods. “Yes. I won’t be back for quite some days.”

“Great,” Victoria exclaims. “That’s perfect.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Why?”

His wife glances up at him with a knowing smile, eyes dark and illusive. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

And so, secondly, when Kris is gone, he tries to make sure everything at home is completely settled and instructs the maids and servants to watch over his wife during the time that he will be out. It would have been nice if Victoria stayed home to enjoy all that he had prepared, but she doesn’t.

This is the first stepping stone to her so-called rebellion against her destiny.

She hadn’t expected the streets to be filled with so many things she had not seen before. Her home couldn’t have been more than a mile away, but the towns were so incredibly different that the sight before her was almost breath taking.

The people dressed differently, spoke differently; in a way, almost everyone here was exactly the opposite of how she had once thought them to be. Or, rather, perhaps she never did think much of the people here at all.

“Fancy running into the great beauty, Madame Wu here, in the middle of town, unaccompanied by her husband.”

Victoria couldn’t have been sure the person was speaking to her until their eyes meet and she immediately recognizes him. “Count of Alsace, what a coincidence.”

“Quite so,” Suho agrees, joining her in her venture towards the book shop nearby.

“I expected you to be with Kris on his hunting trip with a few friends,” Victoria says honestly. “What brings you to this side of town?”

Suho grins, picking up a book from a random shelf. “I was invited, but I just cannot bear to see such gorgeous creatures being murdered and skinned for some man’s ego. Also, something along the lines of a damsel in distress was calling to me.”

“Damsels are usually found in high towers at the outskirts of the cities,” Victoria deadpans, “I’m afraid you’re searching in the wrong place.”

“I beg to differ,” Suho remarks, a finger in the air. “I’m sure I was led right to her the moment I stepped foot on these grounds.”

Victoria purses her lips. “There is no damsel here,” she comments, glancing around. “You must be mistaken.”

“Such a good wife you are to your husband, milady,” Suho laughs. “So much so that you wouldn’t admit to your misery, even when he is not in sight.”

“I do not understand what you’re saying,” Victoria replies. “On the other hand, I hear your family is having a strenuous relationship with the King as of late. If you are in need of ears, I’d be glad to lend you mine for the evening.”

“Touché,” Suho smirks. “As expected, you are not as simple as you seem.”

“And you, milord, are not as innocent as you may appear.”

He becomes more interested in her with her every response. “Please, call me Suho.”

“I’m afraid I cannot,” Victoria shakes her head. “That is improper behavior.”

“Only if you do not consider me a friend,” the man tells her. “In any case, it is always better to have one more friend than one more enemy.”

Victoria narrows her eyes in apprehension. “Your lines are very blurred, milord.”

“Please,” he insists, eyes dangerously kind, “call me Suho.”

She thinks it over momentarily, fingers clutching at the hems of her sleeve. “So be it,” she finally gives in. “There is no day better than today to make another friend I suppose, Suho.”

Victoria tries not to leave the pension again, in fear that it would be just her luck to run into Suho again. It wasn’t as though Suho were bad company, but she always felt a little discomforted around the man, as though he had unclear intentions for speaking to her.

A few days later, Kris returns from his hunting trip.

So then we are met with his third course of action, his greatest effort of all, which is Kris’s determination put into checking in with Victoria first whenever he returns home from a trip of any sort that he takes. It is in the middle of the night this time, and he surely could use a nice, long bath, but the first place he goes is straight to his bedroom.

Fast asleep is Victoria, oblivious of his presence.

The maids help him with his luggage, quietly stepping with him down the hallway.

“How has it been?” He asks.

The maids remain quiet.

“Did something go awry?” Kris wants to know.

“No, not at all milord,” a maid finally replies. “As a matter of fact, everything has been quite peaceful, but for whatever reason, milady seems to have been perturbed by an issue of some sort and she refuses to tell us.”

Kris thins his lips. “No hint at all?”

“None,” the maid replies honestly.

“I understand,” Kris sighs. “Go on back to your rooms after you organize my baggage, I’ll be just fine on my own.”

The maids nod in synchronization and disappear once the door closes. On the other side, Kris slides into the bathtub and closes his eyes in thought. What could have happened while he was gone, to this wife of his that he barely understands?

Could it have been his mother? Or even his aunt?

Was it his father? Or perhaps a distant relative that ran into her while they were visiting?

He rubs his temple, a headache starting to grow. This was not a wife that he had asked for, but Victoria has done a lot to help him reserve a solid position in the heart of his father’s. After all, who knows how many other sons might the Count have behind his wife’s back?

It wasn’t as though Kris was one to care most for the family business, or even their relations with the King, but it was important to him that his parents respected him as an individual. The inheritances would come to him in due time.

Though, he admits, there are many instances in which he has engaged that grant him no respect at all. He’s been taught on more than one occasion that respect is earned and not given.

One thought leads to another and he momentarily forgets that his wife is distressed with issues of her own. When he returns to the bedroom, sleep overcomes him and he collapses on the bed, cuddled deep into the blankets on the comfortable springs.

As he falls asleep, Victoria begins to wake. The rest of the night is spent in ambiguity; Victoria watching as her husband sleeps and her husband dreams of many things.

It is a night spent in wonder, this wonder spent in mystery.

“I suppose your hunting was fruitless?” Victoria asks in the morning. She laughs a little at her own pun.

Kris buttons up his shirt, pausing at her challenge. “We caught several bucks out there, but I figured you’d much rather not dine on the admittedly pitiful beast.”

“I would hardly call a deer a beast,” Victoria argues. “They are gorgeous creatures.”

Her husband side eyes her, lips curled. “You almost sound like Suho.”

“Do I? The Count of Alsace?” Victoria mocks, coloring over her bottom lip one last time with her lipstick. “In any case, you have brought back no evidence of a successful hunt.”

Kris throws his coat over his shoulders, slipping on a set of brown gauntlets made of deerskin. “Next time I’ll take you with me and you can witness my mastery in hunting. You will be quite impressed, if I do say so myself.”

“I’ll wait for the day,” Victoria taunts.

Frustrated, Kris clears his throat and stomps out of the room. The maid glances between the now open door and her lady. “Was that truly necessary, milady?”

“I was just teasing,” Victoria shrugs.

The maid shakes her head and continues to curl Victoria’s lavishly long hair.

“Besides, a man like Kris has enough ego to feed a cow. What does it matter that his diminutive wife doesn’t see the greatness of his manlihood?”

“She is rather harsh to you, isn’t she?” Kris’s friend teases him, after they’ve met at the local bar and Kris has had his share of complaints after a mug or two of beer.

He fumes a little, unwilling to admit his wife often has the upper hand during their arguments. Kris was not taught to argue without reason—he was taught to strategize, to consider, to plan, to calculate, to wait things out.

Therefore, when he runs into a lady like Victoria, who enjoys bickering and poking fun at his weaknesses, he is all but a little lost in her point of logic.

“Why don’t you maneuver your frustration onto your servants, like you used to?” His friend suggests. “It’s better than keeping your hindrances bottled up inside, no?”

Kris seethes. “That would only give her valid reasoning to chortle at me more, Xiumin.”

“It almost sounds as though your pretty little wife has you wrapped around her pretty little fingers,” Xiumin laughs, “but what would I know? I’m merely the district city hall consultant. I don’t understand nobility the way you and she must.”

“Are you joining her in this little penchant against me?” Kris groans.

His friend laughs a little, shoving another mug of beer his way. “The alcohol is getting to your head, Kris.”

“One could only hope so,” Kris replies, sighing, “but getting drunk is about as hard as getting that woman to truly respect me as her husband.”

Xiumin frowns. “Doesn’t she do a good enough job at pretending?”

And Kris is reckoned silent, pondering over his good friend’s words. It is true, what Xiumin had just said. To begin with, neither Kris nor Victoria looked upon this marriage as a perilous portion of their life—it was important, yes, but not quite the most critical.

Then, why does it matter to him whether or not she is pretending or genuinely compliant to him?

“I admit, I slightly envy you, Kris,” Xiumin says, not without a slight and abashed chuckle. “If my wife were half as intelligent and understanding and well-mannered as yours, I would possibly be more than just the city hall consultant. However, my wife is simply another one of those generic wives—dull, obedient, subservient and mindless.”

“That’s not always a bad thing,” Kris smiles weakly. “Your wife may not be the woman with the strongest head, but she cares for you. At least you can say that much.”

Xiumin stares Kris dead in the eyes, eyebrows furrowed. “And Victoria does not?”

“She—“ Kris wants to reply but somehow the words are caught in the deepest cavities of his throat. Perhaps Victoria did care, Kris thinks, but if she did, would he waver as much as he does now?

“She must,” Xiumin answers for him. “Otherwise, she would be just like any other lower-classman’s wife; a stoic and mindless body that walks, feeds you when you’re hungry, and bears your children one after another. It’s because she cares that she gives the effort of ridiculing you when you deserve it and teaching you lessons where it’s needed.”

Kris cannot bring himself to disagree.

“It may not be love, but there is affection, or some sort of second degree fondness. The line is fine, but does it matter which is which? I don’t believe it does,” Xiumin considers, “for when a man stands in your shoes, Kris, love is not of utter importance.”

Those, Kris believes, are the truest words Xiumin has spoken in all the years they have spent in each other’s company.

When none of his three efforts seem to work on Victoria, Kris deems it proper time to forfeit his tries. The more he seems to do for Victoria, the less she seems to be convinced by his sincerity and it seems as though communication has never been the best of their capabilities with each other.

“Milady has prepared your breakfast this morning, milord.”

Kris stares at his plate of potatoes and bacon, wanting to reject the meal but his mouth watering at the sight, and takes a seat at the table. Victoria smiles triumphantly.

“Here,” she says, walking into the dining room with a fresh plate of steaming eggs. “I thought it best to have the eggs served warm when you arrive.”

If she were married to any other man, the man would instantly fall in love with her, if not only for her cooking. “Perfectly brown as always,” Kris remarks.

“Only the best for my dear husband.”

Their conversations could convince anyone that they were most certainly endearing of each other; from the way they smile at each other to their choice of words, their act was flawless.

“I will be out for the afternoon as well,” Victoria tells him, watching as her husband dines. “I’m sure I’ll be back before you return, but if I’m not, then you should go ahead and have dinner served without me.”

“Where are you going?” Kris questions, without even thinking it over.

Victoria considers the thought of lying, but cannot bring herself to. “I’ve got an appointment with a friend at the theater.”

“You’ve got friends?” Kris laughs.

His wife hardens her look, lips pursed. “One or two.”

“Alright, alright,” her husband shakes his head at her helplessly. “Just don’t stay out too late. The bed won’t warm itself.”

And perhaps the least of his many efforts was to keep a good eye on his wife, because she was never truly one to have made anyone worry. Yet, Kris hadn’t realized that her beauty in itself was dangerous, and when someone with looks as striking as his wife’s was freed into the common world, his position as her husband would be greatly threatened.

No, Kris doesn’t realize that as they fall deeper into their roles as husband and wife, he will also lose a part of himself to their relationship that he may not have expected to and Victoria, Victoria might already be that far gone.