Chapter 18

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 18

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

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“Your Grace!”

Thunderous shouts rarely echoed from the seventh floor of the Biplten mansion.

Of course, over the nearly twenty years the current Duke of Biplten had reigned, it wasn't as if such outbursts had never happened.

They simply ended with the perpetrators being carted off as frozen statues, never to raise their voices again.

“You must restrain yourself!”

But this man was one of the rare few who could scream repeatedly and emerge unscathed.

He was Beth, the chief physician of House Delroz.

“Have you forgotten that Madam is a sun-person?”

“……”

Ijis couldn't just stand there watching his lord struggle, so he began admiring the ceiling patterns.

And Aden, too, found himself suddenly interested in the wall patterns he'd ignored for at least twenty years while the physician spoke.

‘……I thought Your Grace already knew.’

He was thinking back to the previous night.

‘So you see me as some creep who investigates the bride’s background.’

Aden unconsciously rubbed his forehead.

He was exactly that—a man who'd investigated his bride's background.

Fortunately, Ilrin seemed to have dismissed his words as polite excuses, but his conscience wasn't clear.

It felt like the lies were piling up endlessly.

‘Den…… the Knight Commander.’

Ilrin had been worried about him.

Aden rubbed his dry face with the hand that had been on his forehead.

Amid the growing tangle in his mind, one emotion stood out crystal clear: joy.

“If this continues, Madam will have to live on medicine forever! She's already struggling to adapt to winter—please, show some restraint!”

Unaware if his lord was lost in thought, Beth bellowed in his booming voice.

“Don't go to Madam for the next week!”

Aden, who had been ignoring him up until then, finally turned to look.

“……A week?”

“Yes!”

Ijis thought his lord looked more distressed than if he'd been buried in an avalanche.

Beth, steeling his resolve that he'd lie down in front of Madam's door if needed to block His Grace from tormenting her further, stormed out of the room.

“……”

Left alone, Ijis resumed counting the ceiling patterns.

Aden stared at the door Beth had exited, looking utterly perplexed.

His thoughts kept drifting back to her—and that spelled trouble.

After that, Ilrin spent several more nights with the duke.

‘Call my name.’

Evidently dissatisfied with her constantly addressing him as "Your Grace," he pestered her so thoroughly that the long nights felt all too short.

Only when she breathlessly called him "Aden" did he seem satisfied, showering her with light, tender kisses.

Yet the mood differed slightly from that night they'd agreed to share secrets.

Already cautious, he now handled her with even greater care.

Ilrin couldn't help but know the reason.

‘Are you concerned for his well-being?’

‘He's fine. Thriving, even.’

After that exchange, she barely remembered how she'd greeted the morning.

Aden embraced her repeatedly, pausing each time she seemed weary.

‘Are you all right?’

As he asked, he'd comfort her until her breathing quickened once more.

Then, just as it seemed to settle, he'd unleash his pent-up desire again.

And so the long night passed.

The next day, Ilrin's waist, thighs, and unused muscles screamed in protest, forcing her to summon the physician.

‘Oh no, Madam!’

Beth nearly wailed, berating the Delroz staff to fetch every sun-friendly herb available.

Aden must have grown cautious after hearing something from Beth.

“Aden.”

Ilrin murmured the still-unfamiliar name.

“Aden de Biplten.”

The secrets they'd shared over those nights were minor.

He mostly asked about her dreams.

He didn't outright distrust her precognitive dreams, at least.

Perhaps because he'd faced the avalanche himself.

Just thinking of that day made Ilrin's heart pound.

These were dreams she'd seen her whole life.

She knew they couldn't be wrong, yet she worried she'd misread or misguidedly shared them.

What if even a sliver of doubt arose?

Here, she didn't want to be treated as a liar or cursed.

At first, she'd thought enduring neglect here would still be better than Viscount Arlen's estate.

She'd tried to console herself with that.

‘Are you afraid?’

But meeting Aden and spending time with him had sparked greed.

Ilrin had always settled for little, but tasting what she'd never had made her desires grow.

She wanted to live happily here.

‘Is there nothing you're curious about from me?’

So she couldn't voice her true curiosities amid his nightly questions.

What if they made him uncomfortable?

Does your body really freeze if eyes meet?

Many mansion servants avoided his gaze, but Ilrin felt a strange certainty.

Especially since knights returned from campaigns unchanged, unflinching.

‘You'll return safely today, too.’

Aden shared his campaign schedules openly at night—details he never told the household.

He went out far more often than publicly known.

“……”

He'd trusted her with that.

Despite controlling information, even with the other three houses and Crimson Delroz's relations.

Yet here she was, doubting him.

“Really……”

Did eyes truly freeze upon meeting his?

Aden, was that rumor true?

“Madam, it's Eni.”

Snapped from her thoughts, Ilrin turned toward the door.

Eni, the etiquette teacher from Delroz, was someone she'd seen nearly as often as Aden these past few days.

If nights were for Aden, days were for Eni.

“You're here early today.”

Ilrin glanced at the clock.

It was two hours before Eni's usual arrival.

In this cold land, mornings began around ten.

The sun rarely showed, but they moved when it would've been day.

Eni typically came around one in the afternoon.

But today, before breakfast—that was unusual for the punctual woman.

“Ah, I should have sent word ahead. My apologies.”

Eni bowed deeply.

Ilrin waved it off.

Sun-time meant mornings were active enough by ten anyway.

She wasn't tired from the early visit.

“What brings you?”

“I've been selected as the Delroz maid to assist with Madam's succession ceremony preparations.”

“Oh?”

Ilrin blinked.

By her knowledge, Eni held considerable prestige even in Delroz.

"House" was a loose term; Delroz was more organization than family.

The others were similar.

Azure Noz, Luminous Ello, Verdant Mille—each encompassed various lineages, the names collective banners.

Of course, true "Noz," "Ello," or "Mille" surnames existed among elder lineages.

She'd learned that from Eni these past days.

“Is there anything we need to prepare here?”

“Nothing major, but……”

Eni hesitated, then continued.

“Before the succession, the bride receives the sacred artifacts.”

Sacred artifacts—the ones from each house.

Ilrin glanced at the blue veil atop her head.

“Azure Noz already delivered theirs, so that's skipped.”

Eni smiled, explaining.

“Luminous Ello and Verdant Mille's artifacts departed late, so they'll be delayed. The ceremony will likely start as soon as they arrive.”

I see. Ilrin tilted her head.

What about Delroz?

“Then what about Crimson Delroz's sacred artifact?”

Eni smiled warmly.

“The leader will place it on you just before the ceremony.”

Place it? Ilrin's curiosity piqued about its form.

“Yes, probably tomorrow or the day after.”

“Tomorrow or the day after……”

Still, it was the house leader's succession.

Everything felt rushed to Ilrin.

“Is this later than usual?”

“Yes. And there's some troubling news from the west.”

The west—where the avalanche struck.

Ilrin recalled her dream.

Crimson Delroz knights had aimed to slay those red-scaled monsters.

But the avalanche foiled them.

Molri Tribe, was it?

“Something related to the Molri Tribe?”

Eni blinked at Ilrin's words.

“Did His Grace tell you?”

Aden de Biplten was notoriously taciturn.

In truth, he was—and shared nothing unnecessary with subordinates.

Most trembled at his mere sight anyway; speaking directly was tedious.

But Crimson Delroz folk traversing the seventh floor were different.

Unbeknownst to Ilrin, her ascent to the seventh had reshuffled the maids there.

Long-serving veterans now staffed it.

Only elite loyalists, dubbed "few but finest" in Delroz, moved through.

Eni was among them.

‘Be careful not to misspeak.’

And she was one of the few who knew the duke and Knight Commander were one.

She recalled instructions before ascending.

The leader had spoken with a battle-ready grimace.

She'd never seen him lie, nor fret over detection.

What made this sun-person bride so special? But seeing Ilrin, she was far brighter.

“Molri Tribe lives in the west. An avalanche happened there.”

And remarkably sharp, too.

Eni could see why the leader coveted her.

She gazed at the mansion's lady, who pinpointed the issue in a few words.

The lady overseeing the estate.

The previous duchess had cared more for herself than the mansion.

She'd always wanted to leave.

But this duchess was different.

Already, the staff's atmosphere shifted.

With the Crimson Delroz leader often away, Delroz maids had seemed weaker—but now held firm.

Largely because Ilrin prioritized them in tasks.

No leaks to other houses; eyes always on the lady's actions.

On arrival, the blue veil sparked Azure Noz favoritism rumors.

No more. Post-wedding night, she aligned fully with Crimson Delroz.

‘What on earth happened that wedding night?’

Eni smiled, lost in pleasant imaginings.