Chapter 31

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 31

Chapter Title: Because I'll Hold You

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“......Insomnia?”

“Yes, but it's not like I'm unhealthy or anything. I just really can't sleep well.”

Kaiyan raised an eyebrow, and Clodel shrugged, glancing at him cautiously.

“If I sleep well, I'm perfectly healthy. That's how it was before I got Herzol.”

She spoke as if making excuses.

As if she were worried Kaiyan might find some flaw in her.

Seeing her like that, the heat that had been threatening to burst inside him moments ago slowly subsided.

“Why can't you sleep? You can't sleep alone?”

“That's...”

The expression faded from Clodel's face.

“It's been that way since I first came to Valmond Castle.”

“Weren't you raised in Valmond Castle all along?”

“Pardon?”

She widened her eyes in surprise instead, and Kaiyan inwardly cursed himself.

From Kaiyan's perspective, this was a forced marriage—Valquiter had already issued the royal decree, after all.

Beyond wanting to burn House Vermonte to the ground, nothing about Clodel had stuck with him, so he'd married without properly looking into her.

He'd even had to ask her name on their wedding night because he couldn't remember it.

He vaguely knew she'd been adopted into House Vermonte as a foster daughter, but he hadn't considered it important.

He'd only committed to memory that sending an adopted niece instead of their precious biological daughter implied the king's willingness to turn a blind eye to any divorce or annulment.

Because he'd remembered it so carelessly, an ill-fitting answer had slipped out.

“Ah. Since you became the duke's foster daughter after your parents passed, you must have lived somewhere else before.”

“......Yes.”

Kaiyan hurriedly covered his mistake, and Clodel didn't seem offended.

‘Her mother died in an accident, and her father left a note saying he'd join his wife before taking his own life.’

The image of a small girl left alone at a young age now overlaid the pitiful woman before him.

“So after your parents passed, that's when you started having trouble sleeping.”

“Yes.”

She affirmed his words.

“Come here.”

She looked up at him.

“You need to get some sleep, right?”

Kaiyan went to the bed first and lay down. Clodel hesitated before approaching.

That hesitance struck him as a little cute.

She'd begged him to come every night just earlier.

Yet now she was awkward about lying down with him.

Kaiyan extended his hand from where he lay, and she carefully took it before lying on the bed.

“Now go to sleep.”

When he tried to pull his hand away, Clodel grabbed his arm with both hands.

“Can't we sleep holding hands?”

“What?”

“I need to feel body heat to sleep well.”

“Then how did you manage in Valmond Castle?”

“Hanna slept with me back then. Holding hands.”

Kaiyan let out a sigh through his nose.

Mistaking it for disapproval, Clodel flinched and released his arm.

“Ah, no, I mean... good night.”

“Come here.”

He rolled onto his side and held out his arm. His golden eyes gleamed sharply in the darkness—even under the moonlight—like those of a wild beast.

“Because I'll hold you.”

Clodel hesitated, curling in on herself, then slyly nestled into his arms and lay with her head pillowed on them.

In that instant, a tickle stirred deep in Kaiyan's heart.

It felt as if an ostrich-feather fan had gently brushed the heart inside his chest.

The woman with her forehead pressed to his chest fell asleep in moments.

Seeing the dark shadows under her closed eyes—darker even than during her illness—Kaiyan sighed.

“Can't sleep, huh?”

Holding hands with Hanna.

But he was her husband; he couldn't be equated with a maid loyal to House Temneth.

He'd offered to hold her out of such childish thoughts, but embracing her now, it didn't feel bad to him at all.

‘If this happens every night, things might change.’

After all, Clodel was the one who'd first suggested they share a bed every night.

Kaiyan inhaled the fragrance rising from the woman in his arms and closed his eyes.

The morning after a deep sleep felt brighter and more beautiful than usual.

When she opened her eyes, Kaiyan was gone from her side, but Clodel lingered in bed, indulging in laziness.

“He really came.”

The man with his perpetual cold expression—always seeming angry, treating her with icy detachment—had actually listened to her without dismissing her words. That fact filled her with joy.

Kaiyan was Clodel's benefactor.

These days of being alive and breathing were possible only because he'd procured the medicine.

Just knowing that, she figured that even if he continued to treat her coldly or snap at her, she couldn't help the fondness and gratitude she felt toward him.

Now that she understood his personality simply didn't allow for warmer expressions, he didn't seem so frightening anymore.

At first, even him arching an eyebrow toward his forehead had made her shrink in tension.

“......He held me.”

She would've been overjoyed just holding hands.

Had he refused even that, she would've waited for him to fall asleep and then pressed her arm against his anyway.

She needed someone's body heat beside her to sleep well.

But she'd never imagined he'd hold her—so the surprise mingled with the warmth of his embrace and the reassuring security of his strong arms, pulling her straight into slumber.

After days without proper rest, she felt light in body and spirit, as if she'd been fished from hell with a net and set down in heaven.

“What do I do? I think I'm starting to like him.”

Clodel blushed as she thought of Kaiyan.

After contracting an incurable illness, she'd spent months steeling herself for death.

Endlessly tidying her already tidy surroundings had been her lingering attachment to life.

At first, her dominant thought had been bewilderment: why had he saved her when he'd been furious, thinking she'd tricked him into marriage?

Then, expecting death only to survive, she was glad—but still flustered.

Clodel had been utterly unprepared to live in House Temneth's Rowen territory.

Instead of contemplating life as the duchess and Kaiyan's wife, she'd spent that time mulling over last words and epitaphs.

Unlike when he'd accused her of coming here to die, Kaiyan seemed indifferent to that aspect.

Rather than lodging complaints with House Vermonte, he'd quietly spent his own money to maintain her dignity.

“Hoping he'll like me back might be too much.”

He was the man preparing for territorial war to wipe out House Vermonte.

Clodel knew full well how much he despised them.

She'd grown up in House Vermonte, steeped in enmity toward House Temneth.

Everyone in Rowen Castle treating her coldly and openly scorning House Vermonte wasn't excessive—everyone in Valmond Castle had done the same toward House Temneth.

She'd heard the exact same insults from both sides, just with the names swapped.

Yet even after growing up a bit and being formally registered in House Vermonte, she'd had no space in her heart to nurture rage toward House Temneth.

Her parents' deaths had been trial enough.

In the midst of all that, Kaiyan not oppressing her or treating her harshly was a tremendous relief.

A fondness was already budding just from him saving her life.

And he was strikingly handsome—a truly impressive man.

If such a husband simply refrained from cruelty toward her, then secretly harboring feelings for him despite their arranged marriage shouldn't be an issue, should it?

Thinking that far, she realized there was a problem.

“My uncle seemed to plan on fighting him after I died.”

Clodel hadn't dwelled much on what might happen after her death.

With the mighty lord of House Temneth dragged into a royal-decreed marriage, what choice did she have?

She had no power to alter anything.

Still, she remembered Duke Vermonte saying several times, “Even Oberon King is on my side,” and “Oberon King will aid me in striking House Temneth.”

“That can't be right. It makes no sense.”

The current Oberon King, Valquiter, was the legitimate prince born to Queen Sylvia.

His mother, Elise—the late Duchess of House Temneth—had been Sylvia's blood sister, making Valquiter and Kaiyan first cousins once removed.

Why on earth would such a king side with House Vermonte?

Having accepted her own death, Clodel hadn't cared either way, so she'd stayed silent whenever Duke Vermonte ranted about holding House Temneth accountable for murdering noble blood after she perished.

But now that she was unexpectedly alive, what ripple effect might that have?

The thought of Duke Vermonte trying to take Kaiyan down now terrified and worried her.

Clodel rose from bed, draped a robe over her nightgown, and sat at the desk.

She'd never properly used the furniture in the duchess's quarters, confined to bed by her illness, but settling at the elegant antique desk filled her with hope for the days ahead and lifted her spirits.

She pulled paper and pen from the drawer, pondered a moment, then began scrawling a short message for the telegraph.

Rowen and Valmond lay at opposite ends of the kingdom—a journey of over ten days by horse—but signal telegraphs could deliver brief missives in a single day for a hefty fee.

[Herzol cured. Recovering health. Getting along well with husband. Can send more food supplies to Valmond.]

“This should do.”

Letting Duke Vermonte know she was on good terms with Kaiyan and very much alive should make him abandon whatever scheme he'd screamed about—holding them accountable for “killing off precious bloodline” after her death—or handle it however he saw fit.

“Madam. Whatever brings you up so early?”

Hanna entered, beaming.

“Did you not sleep again...?”

“No. The duke came last night, and I slept well.”

“Oh my. The lord slept here?”

“Hanna, I have a favor to ask.”

Clodel handed over the folded message along with a pouch of coin.

“Could you take this to be telegraphed to Valmond?”

“Of course. When shall I go?”

“Now. Go right now and hurry back.”

As Hanna left the room, Clodel let out a sigh of relief.

With her nagging worry resolved, her heart felt far lighter.

As late summer shifted into early autumn, a white frost blanketed the grounds around Valmond Castle by early morning.

Green moss still tinged with summer hues dusted in fine ice powder—that was the north's transitional scenery.

“A telegram? You say a telegram?”

Hearing one had arrived from Rowen, Duke Vermonte snatched it from his subordinate's hand, thinking his long-awaited news had finally come.

‘Clodel's condition must have worsened at last.’

Spotting “Hanna Pebble” as the sender, he tore it open in haste.

But the true sender was Clodel.

[Herzol cured. Recovering health. Getting along well with husband. Can send more food supplies to Valmond.]

And unbelievably, it claimed Clodel hadn't died—Herzol was cured.

“Ha. Of all things. Herzol cured!”

And supposedly getting along well with that fearless pup Kaiyan of House Temneth?

Duke Vermonte scowled deeply, drumming his index finger on the desk with staccato taps.

At length, he raised his head and bellowed toward the door.

“You there!”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Fetch Irena.”

Moments later, Irena entered the study, head cocked at her father's abrupt summons.

“Father. You called for me?”

“Yes.”

“What's the occasion, summoning me at this hour?”

His daughter prompted, and Duke Vermonte smiled.

“Pay a visit to Rowen, Irena. If you take a liking to the place, you can stay there indefinitely.”