Chapter 17

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 17

Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Wife of the Monster Duke

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Ilrin had never done anything to arouse suspicion up to now.

Even though she hailed from Boryeon, she was a quiet bride with nothing remotely suspicious about her.

Perhaps if the avalanche hadn't struck the Delroz knights of all people, and if this man hadn't been among that Delroz expedition, she might have been buried alive without a second thought.

Only then did Ilrin realize, as her thoughts reached that point.

It terrified her.

The fear of being treated like some oddball.

If one person thought her strange, rumors could spread like wildfire in an instant.

Even in the small manor of Viscount Arlen, plenty of people had treated her with hostility, branding her as cursed.

What would it be like here?

This was the heart of the Winter Lands, with nowhere to run.

"Can't you tell me?"

The duke's voice was low.

Ilrin felt a sharp pang in her chest.

Was he angry?

"...I thought Your Grace already knew."

She slowly began to speak.

She couldn't quite bring herself to mention the precognitive dream outright.

"What do you mean by that?"

His voice remained low as he asked again.

Ilrin rubbed her own arm with her hand.

A warm hand enveloped her shoulder.

Warmth spread through the very spot she'd been rubbing relentlessly.

There wasn't a trace of rough energy in that hand.

Just like last night, and just like on their wedding night, it was a delicate touch, handling her as if she were a fragile, precious work of art.

The hand coaxing and soothing her rose to cup her cheek.

A cool scent unique to him wafted from his deep breaths.

He tapped gently at her closed lips, almost as if trying to persuade her.

Tell me.

"...I thought Your Grace already knew."

The name Aden, which she'd been permitted to use, grew heavy once more.

In response to her soft voice, Aden asked in a subdued tone.

"So you think I look like the kind of man who investigates his bride behind her back."

The blunt words felt like a spontaneous reaction.

But to Ilrin, they rang hollow, like a white lie.

No matter how peculiar the marriage conditions were, surely he wouldn't take just anyone as his bride?

"I imagine you did."

Of course he had.

"Your Grace wanted to know about me, too."

She hesitated slightly before continuing.

"Just as I did."

It wasn't something to take offense at.

Hadn't she herself listened intently to rumors about the duke?

And hers were even worse in quality.

Rumors about the Duke of Biplten reached her ears even without stepping into high society—they bordered on ghost stories.

She had even deliberately sought them out at times.

This was even before foreseeing their wedding night in a dream.

Aden chuckled at her words.

"Were you curious about me?"

Her instinctive yes was swallowed by the lips pressing close.

Intensely rich, sapping the strength from her limbs.

"How about this, then."

As Ilrin collapsed onto the bed, he whispered in a ticklish voice.

"One secret per day."

His deep breaths tickled her cheek and neck.

Aden pressed forward, as if refusing to accept any refusal.

The soft bed met her back.

This man alone seemed to be the only source of warmth in this land.

The thought suddenly struck Ilrin.

In a place where even inside the manor she needed thick clothes just to move around, only beside him was exceptionally warm.

The bed prepared for their wedding night didn't even creak.

Aden's hand cupped Ilrin's face.

His large hand reached her neck, more than enough to transfer his warmth to her.

But separately from that, Ilrin felt another heat flushing hotly through her body.

A sensation she'd never experienced before in her life.

Aden's fingers trailed down the nape of her neck.

A gesture laden with meaning deeper than words.

Ilrin's face grew hot.

"Will you tell me?"

He was asking how she knew about the avalanche.

Ilrin's gaze flicked sideways to where she imagined he might be.

Her downward glance caught nothing, as expected.

Aden never let her feel the cold for long.

Every place he touched brimmed with scorching warmth.

"..."

Ilrin couldn't open her mouth easily.

I'm probably loved.

No, I am loved.

Ilrin thought so.

There was no one around.

Yet Aden wasn't forcing her.

In a place with no one to mind them, could anyone coax and soothe with such patience?

Moreover, the Duke of Biplten was infamous for his terrifying temper.

Yet now he was acting gentle, like a different person entirely.

This kindness must be reserved just for her.

It had nothing to do with the precognitive dream.

He had treated her this way even before she foresaw the avalanche.

She was receiving more than enough consideration.

"...I'm not sure if you'll believe me,"

Ilrin finally spoke in a tiny voice.

Did sounds carry better in the dark? Even amid the rustling of sheets and fabric, her voice rang clearly through the room.

"Yes."

Though she spoke slowly, Aden listened with focused patience.

"I had a dream."

Ilrin felt his hand pause.

Her senses heightened, she felt it all the more clearly.

But it was only for a moment.

Soon his touch grew even more intense.

The hand cupping her face and tickling her nape slid lower, spreading fiercer heat.

"You saw it in a dream."

"Yes."

The duke's voice was calmer than she'd expected.

But Ilrin felt a chill run through her body.

Was it because no further words came?

Ilrin clenched her hands tightly.

She didn't expect him to believe her.

She had no idea what expression he wore.

Unthinkingly, Ilrin fought the urge to turn toward his voice.

She forced her gaze elsewhere.

"What did you see in the dream?"

His voice came from very close.

Ilrin held her breath at the breath she felt so near.

She turned her gaze sideways.

It might be okay to meet his eyes, but that was still just a hypothesis.

But the duke, who seemed to see her even in the darkness, interpreted it differently.

"Ah, I've been asking too many questions."

The duke slipped his hand under her shoulder as she kept her gaze averted.

"Ah?"

Her body lifted suddenly.

Startled, Ilrin shrank back, but only briefly.

He turned her body and sat her on his lap as he perched on the edge of the bed.

Ilrin's face flushed.

Even without facing him, his presence felt far more direct now.

"If I hold you like this, you won't see. Right?"

Ah...

Ilrin parted her lips silently.

Right, like this, he can't see my expression well either.

Ilrin listened to his breathing, quiet as if he were asleep, spreading near her ear.

"Is this more comfortable?"

Ilrin nodded briefly.

A ticklish chuckle filled her ear.

His encircling hands were large enough to cover much of her.

Sitting on his lap made her keenly aware of their difference in build.

As he pulled her shoulders into an embrace, their bodies drew closer.

Ilrin felt like she was settling into a wide, plush armchair.

"...Do you believe me?"

Ilrin blurted out the question.

This time, the duke's movements didn't stop.

Instead, he seemed to pause to choose his words.

To Ilrin, that moment felt endlessly long.

She held her breath without realizing, waiting for his answer.

His soft exhales and the heat he radiated brushed her neck, yet her body grew only colder, as if with cold sweat.

Just as she raised her hand to rub her arm...

Aden's hand stroked her shoulder.

After a few measured breaths, he drew her tighter, as if to warm her, and answered in a low voice.

"Because Ilrin has no reason to lie."

That was true.

Ilrin let her gaze drop slightly.

If he'd investigated me, he'd know I have no intention of returning to Viscount Arlen's manor.

And he'd certainly realize I care more about life here than expected.

Yes.

I have no reason to lie.

If anything, she worried it would sound like a lie.

"I'm curious for more. But I suppose our chance for tonight is used up."

Ilrin's eyes widened round.

I haven't even asked my question yet?

As if reading her expression, the duke let out a light laugh.

"You asked if I believed you."

No way, that counts as a question? Ilrin gaped in disbelief for a moment.

I feel tricked!

The duke laughed again.

"Understood. Let me ask again. What did you see in the dream?"

He'd said one per night, but from how eagerly he prompted her, he must have been curious too.

As Ilrin moved to answer, he buried his face in her small shoulder.

It trembled faintly.

His intense touch was far bolder and more direct than when facing each other.

His arm fully encircled her, his hand gliding under her arm.

Teasing daringly between sensitive and less sensitive spots.

As if intent on stealing her focus entirely.

Ilrin's face burned.

"...An avalanche, on Crimson Delroz's knights..."

She hadn't meant to break it up so haltingly.

Each time Ilrin trembled, the duke breathed deeper into her.

"...burying them..."

Ilrin tried to think of something else.

The knights in the dream had looked greatly flustered.

Naturally so.

A mass of snow lunging at them like a living thing.

And at their forefront was Knight Commander Den.

"...Ah, is he safe?"

The thought flashed through her mind, and she asked.

This time, the duke's movements halted.

A low, thick voice filled the air.

"Who do you mean?"

"That... person."

Ilrin hesitated for a moment.

She needed to ask out of worry, but a previous dream came to mind.

I will bring summer back to Biplten.

Den's face from that declaration kept surfacing.

"Are you thinking of someone else?"

Are you thinking of another man?

The duke's voice burrowed into her ear.

Ilrin realized she was nestled even deeper into him than before.

As if drawn right into him.

"No."

Ilrin fanned her heating face.

The duke caught her hand and lowered it.

Her comparatively small hand pressed against his thigh.

"Whose well-being are you so curious about?"

Ilrin thought his voice sounded almost like a growl.

Her small hand, trapped between his hand and thigh, trembled.

Did his knight get hurt?

Ilrin tried to steady her shaking hand as she answered.

"Knight Commander Den."

The duke was silent for a long while.

"You're worried about him?"

When he finally asked again, his tone was inscrutable.

Ilrin nodded faintly.

"Yes."

The duke's hand, lingering near her shoulder, slid to her neck.

Soft silver hair spilled forward over her.

Before her exposed neck could chill, his lips touched it.

"He's fine."

He pulled Ilrin deeply into his embrace.

Drawing all her senses elsewhere, he whispered low and deep.

"More than fine. Joyfully so."