Chapter 7

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 7

Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Wife of the Monster Duke 7

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How to Survive as the Wife of the Monster Duke

Chapter 7

Is it because she's a sunlander?

Den—Aden de Biplten—thought to himself as he turned away from the woman.

She had a strangely captivating fragrance that lingered in his mind.

"Then what if His Grace the Duke refuses the marriage?"

He had no intention of refusing.

Of course, at first, he'd assumed she was from Azure Noz, so naturally he'd planned to turn her down.

Countless women sent by the three factions into his bedchamber had met the same fate, facing their wedding night alone.

More than a few had waited in the darkness for the unseen leader of Crimson Delroz, only to collapse from exhaustion the next day—no concern of his.

"Report complete."

The knight who had summoned him, Ijis, bowed politely.

He couldn't quite place why the face of that woman named Ilrin—startled by the knight's cry of "Knight Commander!"—stuck in his memory.

Aden narrowed his eyes.

"Your Grace?"

Away from the other factions' people, he wasn't the Knight Commander.

Known as the faceless duke, in front of Crimson Delroz's knights, he was Duke Aden de Biplten.

Because they were the ones who met his gaze without flinching.

"Ijis."

"Yes."

Ijis bowed deeply.

"Nothing to report on Azure Noz?"

At his words, Ijis tilted his head.

"...Nothing unusual. Though Ridan of Azure Noz is at the manor."

At the manor? Aden narrowed his eyes.

"Shall I look into that woman from earlier?"

Aden raised a hand to stop Ijis.

"No need. She's a sunlander."

"A sunlander?"

Ijis's eyes widened.

Her clothes made it obvious she was from Azure Noz.

And that "Ataz" perched on her head was Azure Noz's sacred bridal heirloom, passed down through generations.

No room for misunderstanding.

"So that's why Ridan came to the manor."

They'd moved faster than Luminous Ello or Verdant Mille—because an elder was already at the estate.

It reeked of their blatant intent to claim her for Azure Noz.

Irritating.

Aden narrowed his eyes.

He fell into thought after Ijis finished his report and withdrew.

He'd only learned of the new bride's existence a few days prior.

Milo of the Esid Merchant Group, under Crimson Delroz, had contacted him out of the blue.

Not even through a letter—he insisted on meeting in person after Aden returned from the field.

"Her name is Ilrin de Arlen."

Aden hadn't expected anyone to apply for that absurd bridal contest, so Milo's words caught him off guard.

"Planning to change your alias?"

To import goods from the empire, it was wiser to send Biplten natives abroad than seek secretive sunlanders.

Finding sunlanders who frequented Biplten but kept its secrets? Demanding from the start.

Milo was such a case.

He used the alias Milo Esid in the empire.

Temporarily changing his Winter Lands surname.

A rather feminine new name.

Aden tilted his head slightly.

"No, it's about the bride."

Milo handed him a letter.

The sender: Ilrin de Arlen.

Aden, uncharacteristically, faltered.

"...Someone actually applied for that bridal contest?"

"Yes. Surprisingly."

The letter Milo handed over was shorter than expected.

Neat handwriting caught the eye.

[Greetings. I am Ilrin of Viscount Arlen's house.]

Normally, this would be followed by pages of dull weather talk.

Rare letters from the empire all started similarly.

"Mind the cold, lest you catch illness"—as if.

Anyone who caught colds from the chill couldn't survive the Winter Lands.

[With no other way to reach you, I am contacting you via the Esid Merchant Group.]

But this Ilrin woman's letter cut straight to the point.

He liked that more than the content itself.

"How did this woman know about the Esid Merchant Group?"

A leak? Aden's blue eyes turned to Milo.

Milo replied gravely.

"No idea. I investigated Viscount Arlen's estate, but nothing unusual. Well, one thing, but it's trivial."

Aden stared, prompting him.

Milo looked reluctant.

"The viscountess is mad. Prone to ramblings."

Truly insignificant.

Aden's gaze returned to the letter.

[I am aware of all the conditions in the bridal announcement. Unless there's reason to refuse,]

The letter was bold.

[I will become your bride.]

Viscount Arlen's house was as unremarkable as Milo's investigation suggested.

A quiet family with minimal outside activity—the viscountess's illness was their most notable trait.

And it had blocked her daughter, Ilrin de Arlen, from society entirely.

Ilrin's face wasn't even properly known.

They lived so reclusively, even a portrait was hard to obtain.

Childhood portraits were useless.

[Silver hair down to her waist, deep purple eyes, slender build.]

That was the full description.

If accurate, she was ideal for Biplten.

From a famous house close to the Atenbl imperial family? That would be trouble.

Just one suspicious point.

"No intelligence network involved."

Aden tapped the desk with his index finger.

His habit when lost in thought.

Yet this viscount's daughter had uncovered the Esid Merchant Group's ties to Biplten territory.

Unless one of the three factions backed Ilrin de Arlen, or imperial influence from the palace or powers—that was impossible.

Aden glanced at Milo's additional reports.

No ties to the three factions, at least.

If a Biplten native posed as a sunlander, the records wouldn't be this clean.

Winter Lands folk would spot another.

"What kind of woman is she?"

He muttered lowly.

"I will become your bride."

The voice of a woman he'd never met echoed in his mind.

As if she knew their situation—bold, wasn't it?

They needed a bride anyway.

A perfect candidate: no faction ties, unremarkable family.

Not famous in the empire—no headaches.

[I am aware of all bridal conditions.]

Timing and fit perfect. Aden smirked.

Esid said Ilrin had cornered Milo with flawless logic.

"Marriage..."

A woman who'd pierced Biplten's secrets through unknown means.

Yet willing to come to this remote Winter Lands for marriage.

Brides to Biplten came alone.

Duchess title alluring? Only if Biplten mingled in imperial society.

Largely nominal.

So what did she seek here?

House Biplten was already distant from society.

Did Aden have enemies? The imperial family, if anyone.

They resented House Biplten never bowing first.

Imperial assassin?

Too far-fetched, even stretching.

They had better pretexts for his head.

This was sloppily suspicious.

"Milo."

The Esid leader waiting outside entered promptly.

"Your command."

"Bring in the bride."

Aden said, tucking the letter into a drawer.

Milo looked flustered.

"We don't even know her identity. Her information source is unclear—"

"That's why bring her."

Aden smiled leisurely.

Leaning back, relaxed like the sunland lion.

Utter confidence nothing threatened him.

But prey approaching would change that.

He could bind quarry with a glance.

Milo bowed deeply to his lord.

"Understood."

After Milo left, Aden rose.

He never shied from prey's challenge.

Find out directly.

How she knew of Esid and Biplten.

If a weakness, seal it.

The new bride's decision was welcome.

For Aden de Biplten, this winter territory was the perfect battlefield.

The day he first met that bold new bride, Aden was on the battlefield.

"Your Grace! Enemies approaching!"

He readied his sword.

Daringly, after a decade, they struck Biplten's walls: powerful monsters from Biplten lands.

The red-scaled Molri Tribe, long-time foes of Biplten.

Dumbest, but fierce fighters.

"Molri at the bride's arrival timing!"

The faction elders—who couldn't wield a sword—raged at the news.

"What are Crimson Delroz's knights doing!"

What? Crushing monsters even their knights dodged.

Dispersing them before they rallied was each faction's duty, yet they shirked like colluders.

"Azure Noz cannot approve this succession rite! A family head who can't protect the people..."

"Luminous Ello agrees."

Verdant Mille's elder nodded silently.

The rite every three years.

The elders' sole check on Crimson Delroz.

Thinking back, the rite caused all this mess.

Needing the three sacred artifacts.

Their pressure tactic never changed.

Aden's sword slashed horizontally.

—Kek!

As a child, swinging his sword seemed enough to quell anger.

He honed it relentlessly, but anger wasn't quenched.

It had to be burned at the root.

Aden elbowed a monster hard.

"Daring to touch House Biplten in the Winter Lands."

His low voice seethed rage.

House Biplten ruled Biplten territory for reason.

He thrust his sword into the ground.

Snow piled endlessly vanished instantly where no ground showed.

Surrounding snow melted, evaporated; white steam rose.

Biplten: breath turned to frost.

But not around him.

White steam rose like sunlight, filling the air with his fury.

—Kek!

Then a Molri leaped beside him.

Swordless knight = prey instinct.

It crumpled from the brief heat.

—Biplten Duke?

Among lives bowed to Biplten's blizzards, one defied the climate.

House Biplten's rite-blessed head.

Commotion spread among monsters.

—Isn't he Crimson Delroz's knight commander?

—How...!

—No way...

Sunland monsters don't speak? Might be harder to handle.

Aden drew his sword, eyeing them.

—The knight commander is the duke?

He waited leisurely for them to grasp the secret.

No rush.

These Molri would be blizzard-buried by tomorrow, corpses unfound.

He raised his sword again.

"Your Grace, a carriage!"

As he finished most nearby Molri, a Crimson Delroz knight shouted.

Carriage?

Aden's gaze shifted afar.

Blizzard-accustomed eyes spotted the plain carriage quickly.

In a space pulsing with life and death cries, it seemed eerily still, empty.

"They're chasing it!"

If not for the pursuing Molri.

Aden's lips curved.

"Ijis. Which path is that carriage on?"

This area was Crimson Delroz territory.

As expected, it raced their carriage road.

Red with Molri.

Arguable outside walls, but the road? Clear invasion.

—Boom!

The carriage crashed into snow.

Driver leaped down, fighting Molri.

Driver... Azure Noz.

Aden narrowed his eyes, looking away.

The driver could handle himself.

Azure Noz carriage? No rescue needed.

'Kyaa!'

Aden whipped his head around.

Must've misheard.

His eyes locked on the carriage.

Something inside.

Not a cargo cart.

Really?

Even his sharp senses barely caught the faint presence—confusing.

He approached as if drawn.

He arrived as the door opened—simultaneous.

"!"

She burst out without a scream—strange.

Truly strange.

Something slender and thin collapsed into him.

A pale wrist brushed his chest.

Shocked, breathless, her faint breath stuttered.

That touch: a pale, slim arm unfit for Biplten.

Frailer than a sapling against gales.

The startled woman stepped back; atop her head, it fell with a thud.

"...What is this?"

Aden muttered unwittingly.

Biplten's fierce blizzard roared.

As if to snap the fragile thing before him.