Chapter 27

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 27

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

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“Did it feel awkward?”

“Not at all.”

The maids on the seventh floor let out soft chuckles.

Ilrin smiled faintly along with them.

It wasn’t a normal situation for the Crimson Delroz Knight Commander and the Duchess to meet alone. Unless the message had been delivered by the seventh-floor maids or a Delroz knight, some acting was necessary.

This was a first for her.

But it seemed they’d pulled it off better than expected.

The maids’ hands grew lighter as they gently straightened her hair.

What could it be that made him contact me so urgently in the middle of the day?

Ilrin tilted her head.

He visited the seventh floor every night anyway, as the Duke.

There was no need to spread rumors about the Knight Commander meeting the Duchess.

“Ilrin.”

Though the library was on the sixth floor, the Delroz maids had swiftly taken control of the corridor before Aden arrived.

The hallway right in front of the library fell under Delroz’s jurisdiction anyway.

They had more than enough excuses to chase away anyone from other houses.

“Den?”

Aden, in the guise of the Knight Commander, was a familiar sight to Ilrin.

Aden pressed a finger to his lips and smiled.

“The corridor is clear. It’s just Delroz people out there.”

“Ah.”

Only then did Ilrin step closer to him.

“Is something urgent?”

Even so, her voice was soft.

Aden found Ilrin, who guarded Delroz’s secrets so faithfully, utterly adorable.

He could hear the rapid thumping of her little heart.

Before speaking, he took her hand.

He’d come in a hurry, but he didn’t want to startle her more than necessary.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you, Ilrin.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“It’s about the Viscount’s house.”

Ilrin’s breath caught for an instant.

A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind inevitably.

Had something happened at the Viscount’s house?

Or had they sent some strange message here? But I never told them I was coming to Biplten…

The carriage she’d ridden in hadn’t borne Biplten’s crest.

As announced for the bride selection, Biplten had prepared everything so a bride who disliked the Winter Lands could return home anytime.

As proof, they’d left the carriage unmarked to prevent rumors from reaching a departing bride.

Then what could it be?

“Shh.”

Aden seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.

He drew closer and pulled her into an embrace.

Ilrin buried her face in his broad chest.

Only then did her held breath escape in a shallow sigh.

Aden stroked the back of her head.

“Is it something bad?”

Unable to guess what it might be, Ilrin asked.

Aden rubbed her back as he replied.

“It’s not bad. Would you like to hear it?”

If it’s inconvenient, we can talk later.

He whispered softly.

Ilrin pressed her face firmly against his body.

“Tell me now.”

“All right, then…”

Aden gently pulled away from her embrace.

Their faces were very close.

How should he broach this without startling her?

“Carrots are growing in Arlen Territory.”

He started slowly on purpose.

Milo was probably wasting away waiting for word from the Winter Lands by now, but Aden didn’t pay it much mind.

He’d never had an incompetent subordinate who couldn’t hold a position until contact came through.

“Carrots…?”

Ilrin tilted her head.

She didn’t know much about carrots, but she knew they were a southern crop.

“Arlen is near the capital, though…?”

“It seems they don’t normally grow there after all.”

Aden slid the Azure Noz fabric back from atop her head.

The fine blue cloth cascaded down her silver hair and draped over her nape.

Her violet eyes, now facing him, sparkled in the library’s light.

“Milo’s looking into the details.”

The mansion was warm thanks to Aden’s influence.

Warmer than March, but still chilly for sun-bred Ilrin, who wore a cape over her dress.

Clothes meant for the depths of winter in sunnier lands.

Aden caressed her neck where the cape wrapped around.

Ilrin giggled at the ticklish touch.

“As you’ve seen, Ilrin,”

Aden continued in a quiet voice.

“Biplten has no trouble surviving without Arlen’s carrots.”

His touch had a relaxing power.

Ilrin nodded slowly to his words.

No crops could grow in a land of eternal winter.

Because of that, rumors often swirled in the sunny lands that the Winter Lands lacked food.

What those gossips had in common was ignorance of the Esid Merchant Group’s ties to Biplten.

“But if you want it, Ilrin, we’ll import food from Arlen Territory.”

An amount grown in Viscount Arlen’s lands wouldn’t threaten Biplten’s finances much anyway—

Aden, thinking that, glanced down at his own hand.

The one holding hers.

Ilrin was gripping it so tightly her knuckles were white.

He carefully drew her hand toward him.

His touch on her tense hand was gentle.

“But if it makes you this uncomfortable, I won’t.”

Ilrin unconsciously relaxed her grip.

Aden massaged her hand tenderly.

His fingers worked over each joint, then her knuckles and palm.

Strong hands that wielded a great sword freely, yet endlessly soft with her.

“Ah.”

The careful pressing was just shy of painful.

Ilrin let out a small sound at the ticklish sensation between her fingers.

Aden’s hand, enveloping her small one, brushed the soft skin inside her wrist.

As he tapped it lightly, the soft fabric of her sleeve slid down her arm and caught in the hollow of her elbow.

Leaning toward her, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

His forehead now touched where his lips had been.

From a distance where their breaths mingled, Aden whispered.

“And if you never want to hear about Arlen again, I’ll seal my lips.”

“Ah…”

The two drew very close.

As Aden advanced, Ilrin’s body bumped lightly against the bookshelf beside her.

Startled, she straightened up.

Worried the shelf might collapse.

But Aden ignored it and kissed her.

“You’re one of the Winter Lands now.”

Despite his words, the air around them felt as hot as the sunny lands.

Ilrin thought.

Her hand, caught by Aden, pressed softly into an empty spot on the shelf.

She struggled not to lean against it.

“If you don’t want to worry about sunny lands affairs,”

Her hand against his chest tightened unconsciously.

Aden took that hand and kissed it softly.

The kiss started at her thumb tip, trailed over her knuckles, and brushed the soft flesh between her fingers.

By the time it reached the inside of her fourth finger, Ilrin’s body, struggling to hold out, leaned against the shelf.

A small thud echoed in the quiet library.

Startled, Ilrin tried to straighten her weakening body.

Aden chuckled softly and supported her waist, pulling her close.

He descended upon her again and again as she breathed raggedly.

“You can live looking only at Biplten, Ilrin.”

Biplten was vast enough.

If she wanted only a small world, he could make her happy here without the sun.

Holding her firmly, Aden rubbed his forehead lightly against hers.

“That’s not it.”

In the brief gaps of breath he allowed, Ilrin managed to speak.

She reached out, placing her index finger lightly on his lips.

Her breath stolen repeatedly, she felt dizzy.

“Ah…”

Aden kissed her finger too.

The renewed deep kiss seemed to have a different intent.

Like knocking insistently at a sturdy door, his lips persistently nudged the slender fingers barring the way between them.

“Ah.”

Returning to Viscount Arlen’s house terrified her.

As the persistent knocking breached her defenses, Ilrin accepted Aden’s breath and thought.

Her father, Viscount Arlen, and the stares of those beneath him—they scared her.

It might have been better if they were hostile.

Then she could hate them back.

But their gazes didn’t treat her as an enemy—they ignored her utterly.

Like a punching bag that couldn’t speak or flee because it had nowhere else to go.

But now it was fine.

Ilrin reached out, caressing Aden’s cheek with the hand that had held her finger.

“As long as I’m one of this place’s people, it’s okay.”

Her words came out haltingly, softly, and slowly.

Aden listened patiently.

Like in her dreams, if she were dropped into House Arlen with nowhere to retreat, it would be truly frightening.

But if not, it was fine.

Ilrin thought.

Aden leaned toward her.

The shelf supporting her shook with another thud.

She flinched in surprise.

“We’re alone in the library.”

Aden patted her reassuringly.

Ilrin’s face flushed.

Adorable.

Aden laughed, watching her lips part wordlessly as she forgot what she’d meant to say.

He caressed her small lips.

“Don’t be afraid.”

No matter what scares you.

Aden gripped her hand tightly.

“I heard the Viscount’s house is looking for you.”

Ilrin shrugged her shoulders.

Aden undid the clasp of her cape.

As their body heat met, her small, rapid heartbeat transmitted directly to him.

“I didn’t tell them… I was coming here.”

I only said I was going north, to Father.

Ilrin said in a small voice.

Aden nodded.

“Yes. So they’re only searching the north.”

He stroked her shoulders repeatedly.

“Just decide one thing for me, Ilrin.”

As he comforted her until her hunched shoulders relaxed, he said.

“If you want me to accept Viscount Arlen’s house, I will gladly do so. He’s your father, after all. But if you don’t want it, then I—”

His sky-blue eyes flashed beneath long lashes.

“—will show him winter.”

So just choose one.

What do you want?

Viscount Arlen was terribly impatient.

Of course, with a food issue, securing a trade partner quickly was wise—but separately, the man lacked a noble’s composure.

To put it kindly, he grasped the basics of trade; unkindly, he was the epitome of a novice merchant who revealed his shallow intentions in a few moves.

Far from noble-like.

“Mr. Milo. He says if there’s no reply by today, he’ll trade with another group.”

Messages from Viscount Arlen’s house arrived more often than mealtimes.

Milo let out a short sigh.

“It’s winter, and they don’t need carrots specifically.”

“Exactly.”

The squad member, also from the Winter Lands, wore a face that said he’d seen it all.

House Arlen acted as if they held a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Of course, from the merchant group’s profit perspective, it was tempting.

Considering transport costs from Arlen northward, it’d be quite profitable.

But it wasn’t worth sacrificing the group’s image or position to chase.

Arlen Territory was too small for that.

What good were carrots from such a tiny plot?

“Mr. Milo!”

At that moment, the door to the merchant leader’s office shook violently, as if struck by an April gale.