----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 20 Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Wife of the Monster Duke ----------------------------------------------------------------- Amid the blinding light that filled her entire field of vision, all she could see was the...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Wife of the Monster Duke
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Amid the blinding light that filled her entire field of vision, all she could see was the shadow of her hand.
At that moment, Ilrin realized there was no Mille flower in her grasp.
"Huh?"
Aden's hand, which had been touching hers, was gone too.
She looked around.
Without the three elders or Aden, she was basking in the sunlight all alone.
Ilrin found herself glancing down at the ground without thinking.
Her thick winter clothes had vanished, replaced by a white sundress.
Between her feet in summer shoes, neatly grown grass swayed in the breeze.
And that gentle wind softly tousled her long silver hair.
When she turned her gaze forward, a vast field stretched out before her.
In the distance, she could see hills touching the sky.
That place, blanketed in green grass and nameless wildflowers, wasn't the end of the field.
She stood in the middle of a dirt path.
The winding trail, naturally widened by foot traffic, snaked between the hills and stretched far into the distance.
It was spring.
The sky was a blue she'd never seen in Biplten.
Feathery clouds spread wide, extending beyond the hills with no end in sight.
"...?"
It was then that Ilrin turned her head.
The things around her grew in an instant.
Startled by the sensation under her feet, Ilrin stumbled backward.
A few more steps back, and a sprout shot up where she'd been standing, rapidly growing into a small tree.
"...!"
She backed away several more steps without realizing it.
The tree grew even faster, as if it had been waiting.
It took only a few seconds for the vibrant, healthy tree—now several times her height—to tower over her.
The sturdy tree that had sprung up in a flash cast a large shadow, shielding her from the pouring sunlight.
But it couldn't block the occasional rays that slipped through the shaking leaves in the breeze.
Ilrin looked up at the foliage.
The sun was directly overhead, making even the silhouetted leaves hard to make out.
So bright.
Ilrin lowered her gaze back to the field.
Amid the now much taller grasses, colorful wildflowers caught her eye.
"Huh...?"
But something even more striking than the wildflowers drew her attention.
Ilrin thought at first that she must be seeing things.
Bathed in sunlight brighter than the golden glow of Luminous Ello's artifact stood the Biplten estate.
The vines—always pale, whether from their nature or the frost—now wrapped the mansion in lush green.
Sparkling in the brilliant sunlight was the light of life itself.
"Ah..."
Ilrin stepped toward the mansion.
What she was seeing was Biplten in summer.
A multitude of landscapes flashed before Ilrin's eyes.
Seasons more vivid than the ones she'd glimpsed in the sunlight brushed past her.
With each step, it was as if some giant were shifting the picture laid out beneath her feet—the scenery changed in an instant.
"Ah..."
Where Ilrin stopped was summer once more.
A massive sound roared.
It was the crash of white foam breaking along an endless beach.
Before her lay the sea, long frozen over and gone in Biplten.
White sands glowed deep under the waves, then took them back in.
The water surged to her ankles, wetting them before retreating.
It met the next wave, creating a small ripple.
Ilrin stared blankly, then reached out to touch the sand.
The sunlight pouring down was scorching hot, and the water surprisingly cold.
She glanced at her shadow wearing a straw hat, then reached up to adjust it.
A hat she'd never seen before was there.
"..."
Unable to believe it, she took it off to examine it.
The moment she removed the straw hat, the blinding sunlight filled her eyes so fiercely she could barely keep them open.
Good heavens.
Ilrin put the straw hat back on.
In the distance, the horizon met the sky.
Turning around, she saw the vast beach stretching back, dotted with increasingly green grasses, and far off, a cliff.
It was unfamiliar, yet she knew instinctively.
This place was Biplten too.
The summer seaside.
"Ah..."
Ilrin scanned her surroundings.
She even examined trees sprouting lush leaves from far away to nearby.
She scrutinized the cliff top, hard to see from the distance.
But what she sought wasn't there.
After that, Ilrin saw many more sights.
Biplten's winter passed by too, but it wasn't the brutal winter unlivable for humans.
The snow poured down, but not enough to bury people.
Children romped atop the fluffy snowdrifts.
In clothes they'd only wear indoors in current Biplten, the kids tumbled across the snow.
The blizzard blew, but not cruelly enough to freeze anyone to death.
"Wow..."
It was a winter cozy enough to bring a smile.
How much more of Biplten had she seen when suddenly her body felt weightless?
She was about to wake up.
Time to return to the harsh winter.
Her body was telling her so.
A deep regret lingered.
The white ceiling light.
Ilrin blinked.
Blinking didn't change the ceiling.
The white light was always dimmer than she wanted.
Enough to sleep with eyes closed, a steady glow.
That light always reflected the ceiling's patterns.
The ceiling, unrepaired since she was seven, had worn spots.
When light hit the bubbled wallpaper, the distorted shadows looked alive—like something on stormy, windy nights that always scared her.
People entering scared her too.
Thud—the door closing would make those shadows shake.
Ilrin sat up in bed.
"The master is asking for you."
Then the door burst open.
Ilrin turned in disbelief.
It was the usual maid.
Not her personal attendant, but the one who stayed by her side most.
The reason was simple.
She was new to the estate.
And she hated the person she served.
"Lady?"
At the maid's repeated call, Ilrin thought of the Delroz people.
'Lady?'
When they said it, worry laced their voices.
But not this maid's.
It was closer to annoyance at her lack of response.
"...Ah."
The voice from her throat was so vibrant.
Clear enough to ring unbelievably in her ears.
Ilrin looked out the window.
A broad-leaved tree, unseen in the Winter Lands, blocked half the view.
Ilrin recalled Biplten's summer scenery.
It was different from that bright, vibrant place.
Dust hazed the outdoor sunlight to a milky blur.
Ilrin covered her mouth against the erupting cough.
The cough sound, the body's shake—too real.
"Lady!"
The maid pounded the bed.
Ilrin startled and turned to her.
"Aren't you going?"
"I am."
The words slipped out unbidden.
As Ilrin rose from bed, she noticed her clothes weren't pajamas but an outing dress.
No way she'd sleep in this.
"You can't act like this in front of the master, got it?"
The viscount's corridor looked unfamiliar after so long.
And terribly shabby.
Compared to any other estate.
"You can't just not answer like that!"
The maid thrust her face close.
Ilrin recoiled in surprise.
She clearly heard the maid grumble.
"Thinks she's so high and mighty just 'cause she got divorced."
The word "divorced" stabbed deep into her chest.
Ah.
Her heart ached with an audible pang.
No.
Ilrin thought of Biplten's landscapes.
Everything she'd seen there wasn't a dream.
She'd married the Duke of Biplten, become Ilrin de Biplten, spent the night with him, even held the succession rite.
'That should help you sleep.'
That red bloom, the Verdant Mille relic Setos, lingered sharply in memory.
And the hand covering it.
So this was the dream.
A truly awful one.
That's what Ilrin thought.
What she decided to think.
The maid hurried her up the estate stairs.
Maybe from seeing Biplten's mansion, the once-vast space felt cramped now.
The dilapidated parts stood out glaringly.
So shabby.
Ilrin followed, still scanning around.
Familiar scenes anew passed by.
"Hurry up, hurry."
The maid's honorifics sounded nothing like respect.
Scornful glances, people flinching away as if cursed by touch.
All too familiar.
Her heart stung again.
But she was still okay.
"Master, it's the lady."
"Let her in."
Viscount Arlen's room after so long.
The door opened; the maid retreated, leaving Ilrin to face him alone.
"It's been a while."
Even after so long, no joy in seeing you.
Ilrin thought.
"Yes."
"So, you finally ran your mouth to the duke?"
No perfunctory offer to sit.
Right, that's how it always was in the viscount's estate.
Ilrin clutched her dress hem tightly.
"What... do you mean?"
"I heard you got divorced. Only one reason for that, right?"
What's House Arlen lacking?
Though dormant now, it had a long history.
The viscount, who'd boasted endlessly of his house's roots, jabbed at her with his chin.
"You spouted that weird dream nonsense as truth again?"
'Beware the avalanche.'
"..."
Ilrin didn't answer.
She wanted to say no, it wasn't.
She had told Aden about the precognitive dream.
But what she wanted to deny was something else.
She wanted to say she hadn't been divorced.
Even if divorced, not because of the dream.
She wanted to say it, even in a dream.
I'm not cursed.
Ilrin was shocked she could feel this surge.
Words buried for nearly twenty years rose to her throat.
I don't just see death.
That day, without foreseeing the avalanche, the Delroz knights would've suffered heavy losses.
She foresaw the accident, and they avoided it.
I'm not cursed.
She wanted to say it.
It was just a dream anyway.
Even so, her mouth wouldn't move.
In the viscount's estate, she always toed the line.
What she feared most was Viscount Arlen when reason fled him.
Mostly when drunk or excited.
Then he'd issue impulsive orders.
That's what terrified her.
He never liked her.
So she'd always lived quietly on the estate's fringes.
If not for foreseeing her wedding night with Aden, Duke of Biplten, she'd have stayed that way forever.
Thinking nowhere else for her to go.
"You didn't bring up that childhood incident too, did you?"
Viscount Arlen asked gravely.
He meant Syd's matter.
Her first precognitive dream.
Ilrin bowed her head and closed her eyes.
The viscount's floor—more familiar than people—blurred before her.
It's a dream.
Not real.
She recalled the estate she'd seen following the maid.
No mobile.
Even a dream this vivid—no mobile meant it was fine.
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