Chapter 37

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 37

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

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"Preparations are complete."

Ijis approached the two of them and reported.

Aden nodded and gently draped a blue cloth over Ilrin's head.

"Are you all right?"

His voice was always steady.

Even when she told him about the precognitive dream foretelling an attack, he had remained calm.

Always someone she could rely on.

Someone who would never turn his back on her.

Ilrin still remembered how the viscount's mansion had frozen over in an instant after Syd's death.

As if the very moment she spoke up had unleashed a calamity, whispers followed her everywhere she went.

But not this man.

Ilrin let out a shallow breath.

"Yes... But what about Crimson Delroz?"

She glanced back at the Crimson Delroz members, already prepared to head to the House of Arlen.

It wasn't a large group departing.

Just two knights to escort her, Etra, Ijis to guard Aden, and a handful of knights.

They had selected only those who could move swiftly without baggage.

Ilrin gazed up at the full moon, shining as brightly as it had in her dream.

"Won't it cause trouble for the Esid Merchant Group if we visit a noble house unannounced at this hour?"

"You needn't worry about Esid."

Aden patted her reassuringly.

As expected.

Ilrin always had this way of fretting over others, even when her own troubles loomed large.

You could stand to be a little more—no, a lot more—selfish.

No, that wasn't even a flaw.

"Didn't you promise me on our wedding night?"

Aden whispered softly into her ear.

"That in exchange for staying with House Biplten forever, you would claim all of winter for yourself."

Don't waste your thoughts managing what's yours.

He personally lifted Ilrin onto the saddle in front of him.

"Right now, focus only on your own affairs."

"...Thank you."

Always, truly.

Ilrin gripped his hand tightly as it held the reins.

The blue cloth kept the rushing night air from feeling chilly as they galloped on horseback.

Ilrin felt a strange heat coursing through her body instead.

Tension. Fear.

She leaned into Aden from her perch on the horse.

Even on the jostling ride, his arm cradled her so securely that she felt no need to hold on to anything else.

Ilrin closed her eyes and rested against him.

When she opened them, her view filled only with the sky, Aden's shoulder, and the line of his jaw.

He smiled reassuringly at her every time her eyes fluttered open, even as he guided the horse.

House Arlen was upon them before they knew it.

They crossed the border of summer that Aden had seen earlier that day, and the mansion loomed close in moments.

Ilrin recalled riding away in the unmarked Azure Noz carriage, turning her back on the estate.

She had never imagined returning.

Unconsciously, she squeezed Aden's hand.

"..."

Aden pressed a kiss to the top of Ilrin's head.

The softest comfort of all.

"...Will it be okay?"

Ilrin asked again.

Aden gave a short nod.

"Of course."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"Whatever it is you're afraid of, it's fine."

"If I go to see Mother, our connection to the Esid Merchant Group will come to light."

There was no avoiding it.

And with it, Aden's face would be exposed.

It might even reach House Biplten.

If her father learned she had married Aden—the Duke of Biplten—he would undoubtedly try to exploit it.

"Halt your approach!"

She could see the mansion's soldiers spotting them, raising a clamor.

She could still turn back now.

Ilrin clutched Aden's hand tightly.

With the blue cloth on, they haven't seen my face yet.

If she turned away now, dismissing the precognitive dream as a nightmare, she could remain El of the Esid Merchant Group—no harm to the group or House Biplten.

"Winter is not so frail."

Aden rested his hand atop Ilrin's head.

His warmth enveloped her from the crown down.

"Don't worry. Do as you wish."

"..."

The soldiers drew near.

Their faces were visible now from this side as well.

A decision was needed.

Ilrin, head bowed, brushed a light kiss against Aden's cheek.

An impulsive gift.

One that blanked his mind for an instant.

Ilrin dismounted without Aden's aid.

The blue cloth that had veiled her face lifted to just below her eyes before settling back.

The soldiers' faces came into view.

Behind them stood a knight from the viscount's house who had once scorned her.

Ilrin slowly raised her hand to her head.

She grasped the veil and, without further hesitation, pulled it aside.

Her lustrous silver hair gleamed in the moonlight.

The knights and soldiers gaped in shock.

"Open... the gate."

She commanded, her face now revealed.

House Arlen erupted in chaos.

Ilrin de Arlen, who had vanished from sight, had returned.

To the outside world, she was the viscount's treasured daughter—but now, she was poised to become the reckless noble lady who had defied her father's wishes and fled north in pursuit of love.

The rumors House Arlen would spread hinged entirely on Viscount Arlen's choice.

'I've arranged a marriage.'

'With whom?'

'The north.'

The viscount intended to first uncover which house Ilrin had married into.

His silent departure had left no trace at all.

House Arlen had never had much dealings with the north to begin with.

Precisely, no reason for any.

If they had even dipped a toe into high society, they could have learned quickly!

Viscount Arlen had chewed over such impossible what-ifs while fielding questions about Ilrin's whereabouts from every mansion visitor.

The crux was where she had wed.

There were no renowned houses in the north anyway.

The only famous one was House Biplten, but the Duke of Biplten would never take a daughter from this lowly viscount's house.

Besides, Biplten lay in the frigid Winter Lands—if she had truly gone there by some mad chance, better to forget the foolish girl.

Ilrin hailed from Arlen territory, sweltering like the south even near the capital; with her frail body confined to the mansion, northern Biplten's chill would be unbearable.

And wasn't it the land of monsters besides?

"No chance."

Viscount Arlen had dismissed House Biplten outright and begun tentatively reaching out to other northern houses.

Partnering with the Esid Merchant Group, which handled northern trade, marked a pivotal shift.

It was prime opportunity to leverage the carrot highlands for real exchanges with northern houses—while hunting Ilrin's trail.

Once the Esid exclusive ended, direct channels to northern houses could slash distribution costs.

If one proved to be Ilrin's new family, perfect.

A well-played in-law tie could open doors to neighbors.

The upsides were boundless.

He had drifted off mid such delectable scheming!

Viscount Arlen couldn't credit the sight before him.

He figured it must be a dream.

Dream—that damned word!

For twenty-odd years, he loathed it.

Nothing good ever came of dream-tangled affairs.

Good omen or nightmare, he bristled at the mere mention.

Even so, this dream had started pleasantly enough.

"What in the..."

Gazing at Ilrin, Viscount Arlen thought he must still be groggy.

But dull as he was, he wouldn't mistake his imagination for such vivid detail.

The Ilrin before him wore an outfit he'd never seen.

Not unfamiliar garb.

The sort of unremarkable dress noble ladies favored this season.

Yet it clashed horribly with her.

At home, she wore only what he personally approved—modest attire befitting storied House Arlen.

Never anything so garish.

He had never permitted her anything that frivolous and flashy.

"What are those clothes?"

Ilrin steadied her breath briefly as she faced him.

Just for a moment.

She glanced at the full moon beyond the window, then spoke with resolve.

"I came to see Mother."

Ignoring the viscount's question entirely.

His face stiffened.

But he held his tongue.

What muddled his thoughts most was the man standing behind Ilrin.

Den, was it?

The Esid Merchant Group man he'd met mere hours ago.

"What insolence is this, showing up at a noble house at this hour?"

Spotting Aden, he feigned outrage.

Naturally.

What etiquette countenanced storming a noble estate uninvited at dawn?

His cunning mind flashed to the Esid deal.

Could he leverage this for better terms?

Dawn guests were a hassle, but no need for fanfare made it tolerable.

Still, he must wring every gain.

"I will hold the Esid Merchant Group accountable for this."

Aden opened his mouth to dismiss it.

But Ilrin spoke first.

She stood before the viscount, voicing exactly what she'd mulled climbing the mansion stairs.

"Today, I came as Mother's daughter."

No matter my marriage or new house, I'm still Viscountess Arlen's daughter.

Thus, Esid bore no blame for the untimely visit.

They were merely escorting her, as companions of Viscountess Arlen's daughter.

Father already took Den for an Esid man.

Coming with him made denying my Esid ties impossible.

This was the only path.

"...As her daughter?"

Viscount Arlen flicked his gaze down the hall behind him.

His expression twisted awkwardly, like grit in his teeth.

Aden turned toward the commotion.

Around the hall's bend lay Viscountess Arlen's chambers, per his memory—the source of the uproar.

The mansion had buzzed before their arrival.

Noble estates rarely stirred at this witching hour.

The affair was already afoot.

The hallway din confirmed it for him.

"Have you... come after witnessing something?"

Viscount Arlen's words sealed Aden's certainty.