Chapter 5: Dawn and Consequence

I shrugged, trying to make it sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

Nathaniel replied unhappily, "You women… If I do that and then leave, what’ll happen to you—a widow with young kids? I want to go on my spiritual journey for the good of everyone, not to make a mess!"

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his face.

"For my own selfish reasons, to ruin a woman’s life—I can’t do something like that!"

Well, at least he had a conscience.

I almost smiled. For all his dramatics, Nathaniel cared about doing the right thing.

I looked at him calmly and said softly, "Since I agreed to the marriage, of course I don’t mind if you’re not around in the future. If I’m not afraid, what are you afraid of?"

I kept my tone steady, hoping he’d hear the honesty in my voice.

Nathaniel stared at me, stunned. "You… you’d do anything for money and status? Or are you just trying to trick me, and later you’ll use all those tricks—crying, making a scene, threatening to run away?"

He sounded almost hurt, as if he’d been burned before.

I was speechless for a moment. "Have you been tricked by a lot of women before?"

I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. Maybe he’d read too many novels.

"How can there be no basic trust between people?"

I shook my head, half amused, half exasperated.

I said, "I’m straightforward. Since I agreed, of course I can handle it."

I wanted him to believe me, to see that I wasn’t playing games.

Seeing his look of disbelief, I blinked at him and said, "You don’t get it. Let me explain. I have eight siblings, and ever since I was little, I’ve shared a room with four sisters."

I could see his eyes widen, and I almost laughed at his shock.

We had no choice—Dad’s salary was small, and we didn’t own much land, so we couldn’t afford a big house. As more kids were born, the house got more and more crowded. Even after my oldest and second sisters married, my oldest brother took a wife, and the fourth and fifth sisters grew up, taking up even more space.

There were nights when I slept with my feet hanging off the bed. Privacy? Never heard of it.

Nathaniel looked a bit surprised. "Eight siblings? Four sisters?"

He sounded like he couldn’t believe it. I guessed he’d never had to share a bathroom in his life.

As an only child, he obviously didn’t have these troubles.

He probably thought sharing a room was something out of a sitcom.

I sighed. "Yeah, it’s so crowded! It’s lively and fun, but I’ve never had a space of my own."

I tried to make it sound lighthearted, but there was a longing in my voice I couldn’t hide.

I told Nathaniel sincerely, "You have no idea. Since I was little, my biggest wish has been to have a room that’s just mine. I could arrange it however I wanted, read and write quietly, and not be disturbed by anyone."

I pictured it in my mind—a small room with a window seat, a desk, and shelves full of books. It was my idea of heaven.

Nathaniel was dumbfounded. "…You agreed to this marriage just so you could have a room of your own in the future?"

His disbelief made me blush, but I nodded anyway.

I nodded, a little embarrassed. "After I have a kid, you can go off on your journey. I really don’t mind. I just really, really want a room of my own!"

I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. It sounded silly, but it was the truth.

Nathaniel: "..."

He just stared at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

After chatting for a while, I noticed Nathaniel’s face was getting redder and redder. His forehead was covered in sweat, and he was fidgeting nervously. I asked kindly,

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

I tried to sound casual, but I was starting to worry. He looked just like my little brother when he was about to burst.

He looked just like my third brother when he was desperate to pee. Dad always said men shouldn’t hold it in too long, or they’d get sick.

It was one of those things you learned in a big family—never wait too long for the bathroom.

Nathaniel suddenly seemed to realize something—his expression changed dramatically. "Don’t mind me! Don’t touch me! Stay away!"

He backed away like I’d threatened him with a frying pan. I had to bite back a laugh.

Watching him act like I was a mortal enemy, I was honestly speechless.

He was so dramatic, I almost wanted to clap.

"It’s not good to hold it in. You’d better go to the bathroom."

I tried to keep my voice gentle, not wanting to embarrass him further.

Mrs. Whitmore was really ruthless, tying Nathaniel up so he couldn’t run away. I thought reasoning with people worked better. More importantly, a grown man can’t wet his pants.

I shook my head at the thought. Mrs. Whitmore really didn’t trust her son to stay put.

So I walked over, wanting to help untie the knot behind him. But the knot was so tight. I struggled for ages, breaking out in a sweat, but still couldn’t get it undone.

The rope was thick, and my fingers slipped on the knot. I muttered under my breath, wishing I’d brought my sewing scissors.

Nathaniel’s face grew uglier and uglier. He yelled at me to go away and even tried to run out by himself. But he was tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey and couldn’t get away! He barely stood up before falling to the ground. I winced. That had to hurt.

He looked so anxious, I felt embarrassed for him. If he really lost control in front of me, he’d probably never want to see me again…

I could see the panic in his eyes, and I knew I had to help him, even if it meant breaking a few rules.

So I said, "Don’t move! I’ll just cut it with scissors."

I hurried to the vanity, grabbed the little silver scissors, and snipped at the rope until it finally gave way.

Finally, I managed to cut the rope.

The relief on his face was almost comical. He bolted for the bathroom without another word.

"You okay? Go to the bathroom, quick!"

I called after him, trying not to laugh. The door slammed shut behind him, and I heard the lock click.

Nathaniel’s eyes were bloodshot as he stood there, turning to look at me. There was something strange in his gaze, like he’d spotted tempting prey.

When he came back, his whole demeanor had shifted. There was a wildness in his eyes that made me nervous.

I couldn’t help but take a step back. "What are you—"

My heart pounded in my chest. Something was definitely off.

Before I could finish, the world spun and Nathaniel actually picked me up by the waist.

I yelped in surprise, clutching at his shoulders as he carried me across the room.

"Ah! What are you doing? Put me down!"

I kicked my feet, but he didn’t slow down. His grip was firm, and I realized just how strong he really was.

I was a little scared and struggled, but it was useless. No matter how thin a guy is, he’s still much stronger than me!

I’d always thought of Nathaniel as quiet and bookish, but right now, he was anything but.

Nathaniel’s face was flushed, and through his thin shirt, I could feel how hot his body was. He carried me a few steps and tossed me onto the wedding bed.

The mattress bounced beneath me, and I landed right on top of a handful of Jordan almonds.

My lower back got jabbed by a Jordan almond! Seriously?

I winced, rubbing my back. "Seriously? Who puts candy in the bed?"

"What on earth are you—"

Before I could finish, he was already on top of me, breathless and parched.

His breath was hot against my skin, and I realized just how close we were.

"Ah! Aren’t you going… to the bathroom?"

I squeaked, trying to wriggle away. My mind was spinning.

I didn’t know why he suddenly changed like this. Mom had told me about husband and wife matters, but only in vague terms.

I tried to remember everything my mother had said, but her advice seemed hopelessly old-fashioned now.

So… this is how it goes?

I swallowed hard, not sure if I was ready for any of this.

Nathaniel was very excited, kissing my neck while panting, "Let’s… have a child… as everyone wishes…"

His voice was rough, and I could feel his resolve crumbling.

Well, at least he figured it out, but this isn’t right!

I pushed at him, complaining, "Get off, you’re crushing me! Ah, there are peanuts everywhere…"

I tried to squirm out from under him, but the bed was littered with treats and confetti.

"You sure have a lot of complaints!"

He grinned, a little wild, as if the whole thing was a game.

"My foot got poked…"

I wriggled my toes, trying to shake off the pain.

"Shut up! No, open your mouth…"

His words sent a shiver down my spine. I opened my mouth to protest, but he took it as an invitation.

Nathaniel couldn’t hold back any longer.

The rest of the night was a blur—a mix of awkwardness, laughter, and something like tenderness. I’d never felt so alive or so uncertain.

The next morning, I sat up clutching my waist, feeling like I’d been run over by a truck.

My whole body ached, and I groaned as I stretched. The sunlight streaming through the curtains felt too bright.

And that was when he was supposedly unwilling?

I glanced over at Nathaniel, half-expecting him to be gone, but he was still there, sprawled on his back, snoring softly.

If he was willing, would I even survive?

I chuckled under my breath, shaking my head. Men could be so dramatic.

When he saw I was awake, Nathaniel opened his eyes too. He clearly wasn’t used to sharing a bed. When he saw my face, his cheeks turned bright red.

He pulled the covers up to his chin, looking everywhere but at me.

"You…"

I cleared my throat, not sure what to say.

"You…"

He echoed me, his voice barely above a whisper.

We spoke at the same time, then fell silent, not knowing what to say.

For a moment, all we could hear was the sound of our own breathing. It was strangely intimate, and I felt my cheeks flush.

Someone outside must have heard us moving around, because several maids and older women came in one after another to help us wash up and get dressed.

The door swung open, and suddenly the room was full of bustling women, carrying towels and fresh clothes. I blinked in surprise, not used to so much attention first thing in the morning.

I was a little stunned by the scene.

Back home, you got yourself out of bed and dressed in whatever you could find. Here, it was like being royalty.

My family only had two little helpers for chores. Usually, we did all the washing, dressing, and mending ourselves. I’d never seen anything like this.

I tried not to look too lost, but I could tell the maids were amused by my confusion.

Nathaniel was clearly more used to it than I was, calmly letting two maids help him dress.

He barely blinked as they buttoned his shirt and combed his hair. I wondered if he even noticed how strange it all was.

But when two older women, beaming with joy, held up our bloodstained bedsheet from last night and loudly congratulated us, he still managed to spit out a mouthful of tea in embarrassment.

He choked and coughed, his face turning beet red. I tried to hide my own laughter behind my hand, but it was no use. Welcome to married life, Whitmore style.