Chapter 48

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 48

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

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“!”

The figure with long platinum hair seemed to be gazing down from the hill.

His amethyst eyes twitched and shifted.

Even without differently colored pupils, it was clear where his gaze was directed.

“...”

At the end of that gaze were Aden and Ijis, near the territory of Luminous Ello.

Was he targeting the two of them?

That was when Ilrin had the thought.

He swiftly turned his amethyst eyes toward Ilrin.

Ilrin froze in place, rooted to the spot.

Goosebumps prickled across her entire body.

It was because she had locked eyes with him directly.

Just like that time.

Before Ilrin could react in any way, he lunged straight toward her.

“...!”

Ilrin squeezed her eyes shut tight.

Her shoulders hunched up.

But no sensation assaulted her body.

No pain, not even waking from the dream.

Ilrin cracked her eyes open just a sliver.

Eh?

And there he was, passing straight through her to peer down the hill.

As if he hadn't noticed Ilrin at all.

Last time, their eyes had definitely met.

“...”

But this time, he showed no sign of perceiving her presence whatsoever.

Ilrin lingered by his side, pondering.

By human standards, the platinum-haired being was masculine in form.

A prominent Adam's apple was visible.

And when his long locks briefly parted from his clothes, a skeletal arm came into view.

That arm was utterly devoid of blood, stark white.

Even less humanlike.

Ilrin was certain he was no human, at the very least.

After some hesitation, she mustered her courage and slipped in front of the being.

“...”

Ilrin flinched as his gaze shifted.

The mobil clutched in her hand swayed with a wide swing.

Yet he still failed to register her existence.

Was that eye contact last time just coincidence?

“...”

Even as she moved right in front of his face, the platinum-haired being saw nothing.

Ilrin studied him closely, then shifted her eyes back toward Ijis and Aden.

“...No one's there.”

Ilrin moved once more, approaching Aden's side.

Up close, he was examining the ground.

“It seems they were here just moments ago.”

“That's true, but—”

Aden's gaze swept across to the distant hill.

The blizzard hid the far hilltop from view.

The world itself kept whitening, to the point where even the hill's edge was impossible to make out.

“At this rate, the footprints will vanish into the snow mid-pursuit.”

“Likely.”

Aden agreed with Ijis's cautious assessment.

Ilrin peered down at what the pair had been scrutinizing.

Faint footprints were steadily being buried by the snowfall.

Footprints left by that unknown entity, without a doubt.

“We're heading back.”

Aden turned on his heel.

He bore no visible injuries.

Ilrin opened her eyes.

“Ah.”

The instant she registered waking from the dream, the cold hit her.

The one thing she'd assumed she'd grow accustomed to after arriving in Biplten, yet it remained the most alien sensation.

Especially in the Biplten mansion—no, in her room on the seventh floor—the cold felt utterly foreign.

The Delroz maids who stood perpetual guard around her took special care to ensure she never felt it.

Particularly after the Crimson Delroz chief physician Beth had paid a visit.

Fragile madam from the sunlit lands.

That image refused to fade.

Ilrin hadn't even realized how frail her body was until coming to the mansion.

Whether the people of the Winter Lands were unusually hardy, or she was exceptionally delicate even among those from warmer climes, there was no way to tell.

Not without more sunlit folk around for comparison.

“...”

A chill gust blew in.

Ilrin heard the thick blackout curtains flapping.

Biplten's skies were typically overcast and dull, hiding both moon and sun, but even in a darkened room, outside light still seeped through.

Ilrin turned toward the light filtering in through the open window.

The wind slipping beneath the blackout curtains cut like ice against the skin.

“...Ah.”

But Ilrin's eyes were fixed on something else entirely.

A shadow stood by the billowing curtains.

Backlit, only its silhouette was visible.

For a split second, she thought it was the amethyst-eyed figure from her dream.

But no—it was someone else.

Much shorter, and crucially, a woman with cascading waves in her hair.

“Who...?”

Ilrin stared down the intruder, body rigid as their eyes met.

Bang!

“Madam!”

In that instant, Etra burst into the room.

Ilrin learned for the first time that Etra concealed a dagger beneath her dress skirts.

Etra whipped it out so swiftly her legs flashed bare, slashing toward the intruder.

“Kyaaak!”

The silent intruder let out a piercing scream.

At that moment, the room's lamps flicked on.

Ilrin watched an object sail through the air amid the scream, landing right before her.

It was an object wildly out of place in winter.

“...A flower?”

Ilrin murmured in a daze.

Tossed onto the fluffy white comforter, puffy as a cloud, was a fresh bloom.

A vivid red fresh bloom.

Not unfamiliar at all.

Not merely because she hailed from sunlit lands, but because she'd seen it before.

“Etra, stop!”

That's why Ilrin managed to halt her.

Etra's blade, thrust forward, quivered to a halt at the intruder's throat.

Ilrin took in the intruder, eyes clamped shut in terror.

Unarmed, she had wavy dark green hair tumbling to her shoulders.

Perhaps fifteen years old, her face still carried a youthful innocence—the girl from the succession ceremony.

The flower that never wilts, no matter what.

The one who had said those words while giving her this very flower.

Ilrin lifted the bloom now lying before her.

“...Lady of Verdant Mille.”

She hadn't caught the name.

Ilrin examined the flower once more.

A dewy fresh bloom that could never grow in winter.

It was Setos, the sacred relic of Verdant Mille.

Aden arrived at Luminous Ello's territory, leading the Crimson Delroz knights, just half a day after setting out.

The blizzard raged fiercely.

The farther north they went, the worse it became, blotting out most of their vision.

Were it not for his authority, no one would dream of launching an expedition in April—the harshest month in the Winter Lands.

“Luminous Ello is in sight.”

Ijis stuck steadfastly by his lord's side.

Thanks to Aden's authority, the Delroz knights didn't feel the cold enough to freeze solid, but they still found it drained their stamina considerably.

“No confirmed Yester Tribe activity...”

A few knights even cheered at Ijis's report.

Aden glanced back.

He'd turned at the sound, but the cheering Delroz knight fell utterly silent, as if his vocal cords had snapped.

A tiny hiccup was swallowed by the blizzard.

“Looks like the light barrier held as intended.”

Aden spoke in a low rumble.

His mind was on Ilrin's dream account.

She had seen Luminous Ello under attack.

This light barrier as well.

And beyond it, behind their base on the hill—a suspicious figure.

The moment our eyes met in the dream, I woke up.

Ilrin had gripped his hand tight as she said it.

Cold sweat beaded on her delicate skin, enough to twist his heart.

Aden ordered the knights to secure the perimeter.

The Delroz knights moved with crisp efficiency at his command.

Some crossed the light barrier—which permitted only those without hostile intent—to assist with treatments, while others fanned out on narrow reconnaissance sweeps.

As Aden watched them execute their drills flawlessly, he beckoned Ijis.

“Your Grace, pursuing a Yester Tribe member riding the north wind is impossible.”

Aden nodded.

Even with his authority, tangling with the Yester Tribe amid April's gales posed too great a risk.

“No pursuit.”

Not worth summoning reinforcements in haste.

Aden's eyes traced the area near Ello's barrier.

The churned-up ground was unmistakable: monsters that had thrashed wildly to breach it.

In the worst cases, shattered monster claws littered the snow from friction against the barrier.

“...”

Aden turned, bringing Ijis with him.

The knights would handle a deeper probe here.

He had another destination.

“Your Grace?”

“Prepare your sword.”

Aden murmured softly.

Ilrin's suspicious figure—human or monster?—remained unclear.

Preparation was prudent.

“Shall I call the other knights?”

Ijis reacted at once, assuming combat.

Aden raised a hand to stay him.

“Just us.”

“Are you certain?”

Ijis fretted, but Aden gave a faint nod.

Moving swiftly, he soon reached his goal.

“...”

The hill behind Luminous Ello's territory, just as Ilrin described.

Her precognitive dream had placed an unknown figure standing here.

“Your Grace?”

Noticing Aden searching, Ijis called out again while scanning their surroundings.

Aden nodded curtly.

His eyes were locked on the ground.

Traces of someone who had been there moments ago.

Those traces stretched up the blizzard-lashed hill.

“...In this snow, they'll vanish before we can track them to the end.”

“Likely.”

Pursuit was off the table, it seemed.

Aden probed meticulously for any presences nearby.

Nothing suspicious beyond Ijis, himself, and the distant-moving knights.

“Heading back.”

He didn't chalk it up to nothing.

The traces of someone—or something—having been there were undeniable.

And the shape and size of those footprints resembled those of a human in boots.

Or perhaps a new breed of monster.

Much of the Winter Lands remained uncharted.

Areas too frigid for deep exploration.

It could hail from one of those.

“...”

His instincts never dropped their guard.

Ilrin, bearer of precognitive dreams, had warned of an unknown presence here.

Only Aden knew.

Yet it had fled with such speed, as if anticipating arrivals.

Impossible without exceptional swiftness.

“I'll order an investigation into its identity.”

Ijis sounded tense as well.

Aden nodded briefly.

His current worry wasn't for himself, but Ilrin.

Their eyes had met in the dream.

Meeting gazes implied mutual awareness.

Ilrin had said it was a first for her.

Would she be all right?

Would it harm her?

Complicated thoughts swirled in his mind.

“...I had no intention of attacking. Really, I didn't.”

The lady of Verdant Mille spoke with her head bowed low.

Her wavy dark green locks draped like a curtain, veiling her face.

“Proof of identity?”

Etra had zero inclination to use honorifics on someone who had broken into the madam’s room.

“Identity...”

The faint mumble matched exactly the voice Ilrin recalled from the succession ceremony.

No case of mistaken identity.

“You're the lady I saw at the succession ceremony.”

At Ilrin's words, the green curtain quivered slightly.

The lady of Verdant Mille peeked her head up just a fraction.

Then she fished something from her dress pocket and held it out.