Chapter 43

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 43

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

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Aden tapped the wall of the carriage. He wanted to gauge just how much force he needed to use.

The carriage was designed with a window between the driver's seat and the passenger compartment.

So when the tapping sound rang out, Ijis in the driver's seat glanced back at him.

“……”

No words were spoken, but he was already geared up for battle.

Aden unfastened the scabbard he was holding.

Ijis would dodge on his own, but Aden still needed to calculate the trajectory to ensure Ilrin wouldn't get hurt.

Boom!

His control over the force was spot-on.

“Kyaa!”

Ilrin shrank back, hunching her shoulders.

Almost no debris flew her way.

Etra, who had shielded Ilrin with her own body, brushed the small fragments off her clothes.

The front of the carriage shattered, opening up a hole large enough for a person to slip through.

A ferocious wind came howling in, threatening to sweep all three of them away.

“Neigh!”

The startled horses whinnied in agitation, but Ijis was a seasoned coachman.

He quickly soothed them and leaped from the driver's seat onto the back of one of the horses.

He had picked up on his lord's intent to escape the carriage.

“Onto the horse, right?”

Ilrin caught on just as quickly.

But whether it was feasible was another question entirely.

She rose cautiously on the rocking carriage and eyed the distance to the horse.

Too far.

And all while the carriage was shaking violently.

Ilrin gripped Aden's hand tightly.

“Will you be alright?”

She gave a short nod.

Truth be told, she was terrified.

But in her precognitive dream, she had been mounted on the horse—so it should be fine.

At the very least, she wouldn't fall from the horse or the carriage.

“……”

Ilrin turned to look at Aden.

More than anything, she trusted him.

She knew he would never push her into the impossible.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Aden gently swept her hair back.

“If you're feeling anxious,”

He was about to suggest alternative options.

But Ilrin suddenly stole a kiss from his lips.

Aden, caught off guard by the surprise attack, wore a blank expression utterly unlike him.

In that instant, Ilrin stepped forward.

Aden snapped to his senses and scooped her up.

“Pardon the intrusion.”

Ijis caught Ilrin outside the carriage.

It was an impertinence toward Madam that he hoped would be both his first and last.

He did his best to ignore the piercing glare that hit him the moment his hand brushed her waist.

“!”

Ilrin flinched on her shoulder but held back her scream.

As soon as she was safely settled on the horse, Aden vaulted up behind her.

Just like in the dream—astride the same horse.

Etra mounted another horse right after.

Nearly simultaneously, a brutal crunching sound filled the air around them.

“Neigh!”

Before the horses could rear up from the shock, Etra drew her sword and sliced through the harness linking the carriage to the horses.

Ilrin glanced back on instinct and her eyes went wide.

Crunch!

A massive sword blade had thrust into the carriage interior where the three of them had been moments before, protruding right through.

The image lingered as an afterimage in Ilrin's vision before fading away.

The now-unbalanced carriage toppled and splintered apart.

“Neigh!”

The horse bearing Aden and Ilrin bolted forward.

Etra and Ijis followed close behind.

It was exactly as Ilrin had seen in her dream.

She tried to peer back over Aden's shoulder once more.

“Don't look.”

Aden cradled the back of her head with the hand not gripping the reins.

He pulled her in tight against the crook of his shoulder.

So close that she couldn't make out a thing even with her eyes open.

To Ilrin, Aden's breath sounded louder than the wind lashing wildly at her hair.

With one hand, she clutched the Mitos and the cloth of Azure Noz tightly.

Her other hand seized Aden's shoulder.

“Your Grace, they're gaining on us.”

Shaking off pursuers charging at full gallop wouldn't be easy.

At Ijis's words, Etra twisted to look back.

Shing!

The sharp tear through the air was the sound of a sword being drawn.

Ilrin found herself glancing at Etra without thinking.

Etra, gripping the reins with one hand and fully facing backward, held a dagger in the other.

Blade pointed upward, she lowered her gaze—then snapped her wrist in a blur.

Whoosh!

“Eek!”

Etra had hurled a dagger.

Ilrin finally understood why so many weapons had been stashed under the carriage seat.

The hoofbeats suddenly started fading into the distance.

Ilrin's field of view held nothing but Etra's narrowed eyes.

Etra yanked out two more daggers and whipped her hand again.

Shing!

Ilrin's gaze whipped the other way.

Ijis held a dagger too.

Soon enough, an ill sound echoed from beyond Aden's shoulder.

Horses and riders tangling in a crash—complicated, and sounding excruciatingly painful.

The hoofbeats dwindled sharply.

The gap was widening.

“Ilrin, hold on tight.”

Ilrin jolted.

Not just from the sudden vibration of Aden's voice so near.

‘Ilrin, hold on tight.’

It was the exact phrase from her dream.

Without realizing it, Ilrin clamped down on Aden's shoulder.

Clang!

Even with her face buried in his shoulder, she knew that sound.

Ijis swatting an arrow with his sword.

Pew!

Something streaked right past them.

Ilrin clung to Aden until her knuckles blanched white.

“Your Grace, we won't shake them like this.”

Ijis's words matched the dream too.

Soon.

Any moment now.

“Den……”

A quivering voice slipped from her lips—less a call than a prayer.

Don't get badly hurt. Please.

From Ilrin's reaction, Aden swiftly pieced together what his near future held.

Her hand vise-gripped to his shoulder, pale as death.

Tremors coursed through it to him.

Her fear, naturally.

“Can you hold until we reach the Winter Lands?”

Aden murmured without thinking.

Ijis, deflecting arrows, flicked his gaze ahead for a moment, measuring the distance to winter.

Aden grasped the answer before Ijis could voice it.

“The distance is too—”

He'd confirm it was too far.

True to Ilrin's dream.

Aden seized the reins once more.

The moment to warp the foreseen future was at hand.

The slightest shift would do it.

Ijis deflected a few more arrows as he spoke.

“Even reaching Biplten won't shield you from the sunlight's divine power.”

Obviously.

Aden gave a curt nod.

That was why he'd misled Ijis.

“Still, push forward as far as we can.”

Aden replied shortly.

Etra shook her head faintly while blocking arrows.

She still clutched the dagger she'd meant to give Ilrin.

“The range is longer than we thought. Striking from the sunlight into Biplten would be unstoppable.”

She cautioned carefully.

“We—”

The instant Ijis began to speak, Ilrin mashed her face into Aden's chest.

Aden twisted sideways, cradling her.

“Your Grace!”

Pew!

Ijis's cry was near a scream as the arrow sliced past with deadly sharpness.

Blood burst from just below Aden's left arm at the same time.

A few droplets splattered onto Ilrin's cheek and face.

Ilrin's eyes flew wide.

“Are you okay?”

“Ah.”

Without thinking, Ilrin reached out with both hands to feel along Aden's back.

Aden restrained her with his free hand.

“You'll get hurt.”

“The arrow.”

Gone? Ilrin's eyes widened further.

Even in that split second, running her hands over his familiar back was enough.

No arrow lodged there.

The only hit was the one that had grazed his arm.

“I'm fine.”

Aden patted her back.

Blood trickled from his left arm, but he paid it no mind.

He simply wiped the blood from Ilrin's cheek.

“Ijis.”

“Yes.”

Ijis's response came swift.

“How many remain?”

“Four.”

Ilrin balled her fists until her knuckles whitened once more.

A number close to her dream.

The nightmare lingered.

“Kill them.”

Unlike Ilrin's vision, Aden's command came in a voice like frostbite.

Ijis and Etra eased their horses' pace.

In a flash, Aden's mount—still sheltering Ilrin's head—shot past the pair lagging behind.

Screams, shouts, and the chaotic clang of blades erupted from the spot they overtook.

“……”

Unable to stifle her curiosity any longer, Ilrin peeked over Aden's shoulder.

“More worried about them than me?”

Aden leaned in close, his rich voice rumbling right in her ear.

Ilrin startled and jerked back to face him.

“No, I……”

...Did I deny it too fast? It might come off like she didn't care about Ijis and Etra.

She did worry for them.

Clutching his shoulder to catch every fading sound, Ilrin held on.

It was bleeding.

“Just kidding.”

Aden chuckled.

But the blood now slicking Ilrin's hand was anything but a joke.

Her eyes widened at how much deeper the wound was than it had seemed.

“Your hand will get dirty.”

He whispered low once more.

Ilrin shook her head.

“The blood……”

“In the Winter Lands, wounds close up fast.”

Aden drew her close again.

He urged the horse faster.

“But,”

With the ride growing too jarring for comfort, Ilrin spoke gingerly.

“We're still a ways from winter……”

Ilrin's eyes rounded wide mid-sentence.

She lifted her face from his chest and peered up at him.

‘Let's fool the dream.’

His words from days ago in the carriage resurfaced.

As if reading her thoughts, he flashed a deep smile.

“We're already in winter.”

Aden's left hand pressed firmly on the blue cloth atop her head.

As if to block out the light.

At the same instant, a blinding radiance erupted from his other hand.

In that moment, Ilrin saw it.

Time itself seemed to accelerate.

Storm clouds rumbled in from the horizon at the edge of her sight.

As if to paint over the clear sky entirely, they surged from the direction they were heading.

The thick clouds that perpetually shrouded Biplten's skies.

Moonlight vanished in a heartbeat, cloaking everything in gloom.

And with it, snow began to flutter down—now a touch familiar to Ilrin.

“Ah……”

The soft snowfall lasted only moments.

April in Biplten grew fiercer still as the north wind howled in.

The sunlit expanse transformed into winter in the blink of an eye.

A savage blizzard soon to bury their vision in white.

Yet in its heart, Aden's embrace—the Winter Duke's—remained a haven.

Aden gradually slowed his horse.

When it halted, Ilrin clutched the cloth and looked back.

Ijis and Etra were dismounting, swords in hand.

They were unscathed, as were their two horses.

But the four ahead were not.

“Shall we get down?”

Ilrin, staring dazedly that way, took his hand and slid off the horse.

Her eyes never left the four.

They stood frozen as four eerie ice sculptures.

Posed as if mid-swing with their swords, menacingly so—but nothing more.

Solidified like ice carvings from the outset.

“I kept my promise.”

Aden extended his hand.

The blizzard veiling Ilrin's sight began to thin.

“A reward for your faith in winter.”

He murmured.

Ilrin gazed up at Aden.

The precognition had come to pass—yet also faltered.

Aden had been injured as foretold, but nothing grave.

He had cherry-picked only the ‘injury’ from the vision, sidestepping catastrophe.

Aden had rewritten it.

“Ah……”

With this man... by his side... it's alright.

Ilrin shut her eyes.

Tears she hadn't noticed streamed down, freezing into crystals atop the snow.

This frigid place felt fine.

By his side, she no longer needed to dread her visions.

Ilrin at last cast off the deep-seated anxiety that had gripped her since glimpsing the Viscountess amid the sunlight.

Her smile shone clearer than ever before.