The night felt incredibly quiet.

Outside the balcony, the sky stretched dark and endless, touched only by the faint glow of the moon. A gentle breeze slipped into the master bedroom, making the sheer white curtains sway softly. The bedside lamp cast a warm golden light across the spacious room, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and painfully awkward.

It was Clara first night in this house as Vano’s wife.

Her wedding gown had long been removed. Now she wore simple white sleepwear, her long black hair falling naturally down her back. She sat at the edge of the large canopy bed, her small hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her petite figure looked almost fragile in the vast, luxurious bedroom that still felt unfamiliar to her.

On the other side of the bed, Vano was already lying on his back. One arm rested beneath his head as he stared at the ceiling. His handsome face looked composed but stiff, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t used to sharing his space—especially not with a woman who had only just become his wife.

The silence between them felt heavy.

Clara lowered her gaze. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. In all her life, she had never imagined herself in a room this grand, beside a man like Vano. Her heart beat fast—not out of fear of him, but because of the uncertainty.

Vano glanced at her briefly.

He noticed how still she was. Too still. Her shoulders were slightly tense, as if she were holding her breath. A quiet sense of guilt brushed against him. He knew she must feel even more out of place than he did. The house was unfamiliar. The life was unfamiliar. And he himself was still a stranger to her.

“You… don’t have to be tense” Vano finally said, his voice low and calm, though it still carried a cool edge. “Just rest.”