Chapter 34

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 34

Chapter Title: The Boundary of Summer

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How to Survive as the Wife of the Monster Duke

34

Aden stood before the large tree that Viscount Arlen had pointed out.

It felt just like standing in front of a fireplace—the warmth carried on the wind was different.

Aden looked up at the tree, the wind not feeling chilly at all even in winter. To him, it even felt pleasantly balmy.

Then he shifted his steps sideways, stepping beyond the boundary of Arlen Territory.

A noticeably chillier wind brushed against his body.

Aden smiled.

"How is it?"

Viscount Arlen smiled.

"In summer, it gets unusually warm beyond this tree. Hard to believe, I know, but you can't grow carrots over there."

The boundary of the Winter Lands stood out starkly year-round due to the unrelenting blizzards.

But that wasn't the case in summer.

There might be a slight change in the crops, but nothing drastic enough to spot at a glance.

The viscount kept pointing at the tree, insisting its leaves were broader, but to Aden's eyes, one side looked no different from the other.

Still, the temperature did change right around the tree—it was undeniable.

Just like the boundary of the Winter Lands.

House Biplten had long researched why the Winter Lands' boundary was so sharply defined.

The most plausible theory was that winter persisted only up to the reach of the Biplten house head's power, but the truth remained unknown.

"Summer, huh..."

Aden murmured the unfamiliar yet endearing word.

Arlen's summer apparently had just as sharp a boundary.

Several puzzle pieces clicked together rapidly in his mind.

The biggest one was how, after completing the succession rite with Ilrin, raising the temperature in the Winter Lands had become far easier.

As if true summer might actually come to Biplten.

He sensed an intriguing connection between the pieces.

"You said it only started getting unusually hot about thirty years ago?"

Aden asked.

Viscount Arlen nodded.

"That's right. It's been over twenty years now."

That timeline roughly matched Ilrin's age.

Aden formed a startling hypothesis in his mind.

What if Ilrin held the key to summer?

If so, then Arlen Territory's fate was sealed.

Aden's lips curved into a smile.

"I see..."

He turned to the viscount.

"Of course, I'd need her permission first."

He made sure to mention Ilrin.

"But if she allows it, then we'll make this deal."

Aden drove the point home.

"I'll buy at twenty gold per cart."

Carrots normally went for fifteen gold per cart.

Viscount Arlen couldn't contain his joy, grinning ear to ear.

He seized Aden's hand and shook it vigorously.

"Looking forward to doing business!"

The viscount was already acting as if the deal was done.

His mind raced with calculations of the territory's annual carrot harvest and profits.

And all the things he could do with that money.

"The pleasure's mine."

Ilrin was one of winter now.

If his theory held, Arlen Territory would return to its original climate next year.

No more carrot farming then.

Aden smiled.

He planned to dismantle every bit of the honor Viscount Arlen had built by confining Ilrin at home.

Winter was only just beginning.

[Trade at 20 gold per cart.]

House Arlen treated Aden with utmost hospitality.

To Aden, who knew their finances inside out, the meal clearly strained even their resources.

Viscount Arlen, oblivious to how well Aden knew his situation, beamed throughout.

Even during dinner, he kept insisting they hurry and draft the contract.

Aden mentioned needing permission while pretending to go along, helping prepare the document.

Of course, if Ilrin refused, he'd tear it up immediately.

There were plenty of ways to bring down House Arlen.

He didn't need to upset Ilrin to do it.

Her will came first in all things.

"Hmm..."

The viscount propped his chin on his hand, feigning deep thought.

But his trembling lips betrayed his excitement.

The contract specified the quantity per cart, the unit price, and that prices could be renegotiated annually based on market rates.

Aden set down his napkin, noting how the viscount's eyes casually skipped that clause.

"Arlen Territory's carrots are exceptionally high quality, unlike those from other regions."

After dinner, Aden broached the topic.

"In addition to that contract, I'd like to propose an exclusive deal with our Esid Merchant Group."

Viscount Arlen froze, and Aden smiled.

"Naturally, we'd pay even more."

Only then did the viscount's expression relax.

"For how many years...?"

It was a cautious response.

Aden pondered briefly.

That was when it happened.

—Aaaah!

Aden's gaze lifted upward.

It was a piercing scream loud enough for anyone to hear, even without exceptional hearing.

Coming from upstairs.

Aden turned to Viscount Arlen.

The viscount looked troubled.

Clearly not what he expected.

—Madam!

The maid's scream-like cry made the viscount scowl.

Aden tilted his head slightly.

Madam?

'The viscountess, then?'

—Call the guest!

The sharp voice clearly referred to him.

Aden looked back at Viscount Arlen.

"I've heard Viscountess Arlen hasn't been well lately."

It was common knowledge in high society, even without his investigations.

"Our Esid Merchant Group deals in medicines too. It'd be an honor to pay my respects and recommend some fine remedies."

His words sounded perfectly natural.

The viscount had no choice.

He'd strictly warned the maids to keep the viscountess from going out, but it was no use.

He forced his twitching lips straight.

"Would you? She'd welcome it."

Viscount Arlen led him to the viscountess's room at a leisurely pace.

Normally, a guest entering her private quarters uninvited would be rude, but Viscountess Arlen opened the door readily.

Her response was swift, as if she'd been waiting.

The maids who had tried to dissuade her hurried out.

Aden clearly saw their bodies stiffen upon meeting the viscount's eyes.

"Go downstairs."

The viscount eyed them with displeasure and waved them off curtly.

Get lost.

"Please, go in."

His face toward Aden was plastered with forced courtesy.

Aden entered the room the viscount held open.

Viscountess Arlen sat primly on the bed, a far cry from the woman who had screamed loud enough to reach downstairs.

Aden's gaze lingered on her silver hair.

Now dulled and lackluster from lost vitality.

In her youth, that fine silver must have resembled the woman he loved.

But more strikingly, as soon as he entered, something washed over him.

"Greetings. I'm Den of the Esid Merchant Group."

He bowed first.

Viscountess Arlen smiled.

A faint, feeble smile.

Her composed demeanor unraveled in an instant.

At the same moment, the summery scent he'd noticed upon entering intensified.

Unlike Ilrin's fresh fragrance.

From the viscountess came the musty aroma of aged foliage.

Utterly alien to Aden.

A person from the sunny lands might describe it as the unpleasant, thick dampness of moss.

"She married a fine man."

Her blunt words contrasted sharply with her limp expression, delivered in a clear voice.

Viscount Arlen sighed.

He murmured quietly to Aden.

"She's always rambling nonsense."

Not quite.

Aden ignored him.

Viscountess Arlen had the power of precognitive dreams too.

Her voice carried conviction.

She wasn't rambling.

"Don't stop the child from coming."

She spoke again, and the viscount's sigh deepened.

"She has something to give."

Her voice remained clear.

Aden instantly knew the "child" she meant was Ilrin.

'Did the viscountess see something in a dream?'

"Light refreshments should be ready by now. Shall we continue downstairs?"

Viscount Arlen suggested to Aden in a subtle tone.

Anyone could see he wanted him out of the viscountess's room quickly.

Viscountess Arlen, having said her piece, turned her head away.

Aden gave her a brief bow and left.

As he did, he took one last look at her condition.

A faint scent of death clung to her.

That much, he knew for certain.

His mother had been just like that before she passed.

Aden's eyes narrowed.

How long would Arlen Territory's "summer" last?

Aden pondered.

Viscount Arlen was gleefully reviewing the contract.

'She married a fine man.'

The viscountess's voice hadn't been the vague mutterings of a clouded mind.

It rang with certainty.

With her precognitive dreams confirmed, there were two possibilities.

The key to summer was Ilrin herself, or Ilrin's maternal bloodline.

Aden focused on the precognitive dreams passed down the maternal line.

If it was Ilrin herself, this summer would be Arlen's last.

His powers had changed after the rite with her.

It should already be cooling.

But if it was the bloodline?

Viscountess Arlen had the dreams too.

Then until she left the territory... or died.

Her room already reeked of death.

Her health was dire.

Far beyond what doctors could fix.

Soon, the territory's summer would end.

"How many years for the exclusive deal?"

Viscount Arlen pressed on, finalizing the contract.

Aden offered a perfunctory smile.

"Three years."

Viscount Arlen's lip twitched.

Aden smiled wider.

The viscount dismissed it as unlikely, but it was clearly stated at the contract's end.

[If annual shipments fall below half the first year's volume, pay three times the first year's payment as penalty.]

Viscount Arlen would slowly lose everything he had.

"That penalty clause stands out."

Ilrin's first words upon reviewing the contract.

The merchant group's night quarters held no outsiders.

She sat across from Aden, her stifling black veil removed.

"The viscount didn't even notice."

If summer vanished from Arlen Territory as is, that clause would become a deadly poison devouring the viscount.

The end was already foretold.

"Whether to proceed is up to you, Ilrin."

Aden smiled.

"If it bothers you, we don't have to sign."

Now that he knew the viscount's weakness, ways to ruin him abounded.

Ilrin held the pen, gazing steadily at the contract.