Chapter 8

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 8

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

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“A woman?”

Aden uttered the words in disbelief, as if posing a question.

The petite woman looked up at him, reacting just as he spoke.

Her deep purple eyes quivered.

Perhaps reassured that he was human, her shallow breaths came spilling out.

The moment her pent-up breath escaped, Aden found himself swept up in an odd sensation.

“......”

It was a serene fragrance.

A scent utterly impossible in Biplten, long starved of any warmth.

Incredibly, it emanated from this woman, trembling as if she couldn't endure even this brief span of winter.

She stood firm somehow amid the ferocious blizzard that seemed poised to bury her alive.

—Kyaaak!

In that instant, one of the Molri pursuing her lunged at her from behind.

Aden raised his sword without thinking and thrust it into the beast.

—Kieek!

The lifeless Molri convulsed violently before slumping down.

Even in the moment it lost its life, it pulsed with a vital force stronger than hers.

From the woman before his eyes came only the faintest throb, as if she might wither away at any second.

“Ah......”

Her voice trembled.

Thinking perhaps he meant to slit her throat, her tightly shut eyes fluttered.

Aden gazed at her silently, then spotted the object lying at her feet.

“This is...”

The sacred artifact of Azure Noz.

In that instant, Aden snapped back to his senses, as if doused with icy water.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned toward her.

Fragile as glass, yet her presence was overwhelming.

The dense fragrance filled the space around her, encroaching on him as if he'd stepped right into her world.

A warm aroma that had no place in Biplten.

“......Unless you want to freeze solid right there.”

He slowly lowered the Noz artifact over her head.

As Biplten's chill enveloped it, the rich scent dulled, leaving him with a pang of regret.

Unthinkingly, he drew in a deep breath, as if trying to capture even the lingering traces.

“Take good care of it.”

What am I doing? he wondered to himself.

It was nothing but coincidence that a woman had been in the Azure Noz carriage.

Coincidentally saved her—that should have been the end of it.

Whoever she was, she was clearly highborn enough to wield a sacred artifact.

He had no interest in women, but even he could recognize that much.

Call it settling a debt with Azure Noz and walk away.

Yet he couldn't turn and leave.

That deep, warm fragrance kept drawing him in.

He, who had never once witnessed a bright season, realized it then.

The scent wafting from her was the fragrance of summer.

“Your Grace!”

A Delroz knight called out from the distance.

He could see the woman hastily avert her gaze.

Aden looked down at her.

The thoughts churning beneath that blue cloth were obvious.

Don't meet the duke's eyes.

“......”

Aden turned away.

Meeting the duke's eyes will freeze you solid.

That must have been the rumor on her mind.

She hadn't even dreamed that the man whose gaze she'd just met was the duke himself.

In any case, aside from the Delroz knights who rode battlefields at his side, only the elders of each house knew the truth.

Even they had sealed their lips.

They had sworn as much at the previous duke's funeral.

It had been right after they learned that the Winter Duke was, at the very least in Biplten, a monster.

That tales of freezing from a mere glance weren't entirely falsehoods.

As he turned, the summer scent faded.

Strangely, it grated on him.

The time he'd shared breath with that woman had been fleeting.

Not even particularly close.

Their breaths had barely brushed one another.

And even that had scattered in the raging blizzard moments later.

There was no explaining why that brief instant lingered so vividly.

Aden wondered if it had all been an illusion.

That presence so utterly at odds with Biplten.

Don't dwell on it.

She was from Azure Noz, after all. No reason their paths would cross again.

“This is the lady who arrived from the Sunlands.”

He'd thought their paths wouldn't cross again.

“A Sunlander?”

Within the blizzard-free manor, the woman appeared far more vibrant.

And that summer fragrance clung to her unchanged.

As if it hadn't been an illusion at all.

“Ilrin de Arlen, from the Empire.”

At that moment, Aden was caught off guard in a way most uncharacteristic of him.

[I will become your bride.]

She was the author of that brazen letter.

Her violet eyes met his, clear and unwavering.

A woman who didn't belong in winter.

Aden knew one other like her.

She had been a Sunlander too, but she'd carried the scent of withered winter.

He'd never known what she was like back in the Sunlands.

She had been his mother, after all.

'Den, help me get out of here.'

She'd said it every time they met.

Until her dying breath.

Sunlanders were all the same.

They withered the moment they touched winter.

That was his belief.

“I'm Den of Crimson Delroz.”

The words he barely managed to utter felt like a lie, and it irked him.

He was the Knight Commander of Crimson Delroz while in the manor, so it wasn't an outright falsehood.

A Sunlander...

“Thank you for earlier.”

Those simple words echoed in his mind.

She was no mere woman of Azure Noz, that much was clear.

Above all, that summer scent was something no one from the Winter Lands could ever possess.

A slender white neck.

A soft ripple of laughter.

Violet eyes curving like crescent moons, veiled faintly.

Delicate lashes quivering over them.

Even indoors, she seemed to feel the winter's bite—a person who didn't belong in Biplten at all.

So fragile, she might vanish into the first blizzard that came.

“......You won't find anything good lingering in winter for long.”

It was his final act of kindness.

Or rather, his rationality speaking.

He didn't want her vibrancy smothered by the barren winter.

[I will become your bride.]

But would this bold bride-to-be truly return to the Sunlands?

“......So fluffy.”

And the woman he'd met at the manor gates had already grown far more accustomed to the winter.

That summer scent still wafted from her as the cold winds swayed her form.

“Do you intend to stay here for long?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in the bride's reply.

She was an odd one.

On her very first day in Biplten, she'd been chased by Molri and nearly died.

Those quivering breaths had been all too real.

Yet she refused to leave.

To Aden's eyes, she seemed foolishly stubborn.

“Even if the head of Crimson Delroz has no interest in you?”

“As long as I can stay here safely.”

You could stay...

If you grow close to Azure Noz.

A strange twist churned in his gut.

The blue cloth atop her head grated so much he wanted to rip it away.

“Even if you never see your husband's face in your lifetime?”

“Of course.”

The reason he hadn't cared about the bride recruitment—whether it happened or not—was those absurd marriage terms.

In this land, she would have to live her entire life without ever knowing her husband's face. It was winter's soil, brutally inhospitable to Sunlanders.

Can you endure it?

“Then, what if the duke refuses the marriage?”

It was a cruel question.

If you're going to fade away in this winter, leave now.

The bride smiled gently at his query.

“I'll think about it if he refuses.”

Unlike his mother's clouded gaze, her eyes were sharp and clear.

Even amid the snowfields, she shone bright.

With a fresh, dazzling smile that carried the radiant fragrance unique to Sunlanders.

Aden's breath caught for a moment.

Wow. That's cheating.

After that day, Aden rarely ventured outside the manor.

The woman teetering on the edge in this winter manor weighed on his mind.

Yet drawing near was out of the question.

It was strange.

Ilrin knew him only as the Knight Commander of Crimson Delroz.

To be precise, it wasn't a lie.

Whenever he showed his face in the manor, he was always and only the Knight Commander of Crimson Delroz.

Hiding his true identity gnawed at him, but it meant Ilrin didn't fear him.

“......”

Aden tapped the desk idly.

The knights outside fell silent, sensing his foul mood.

The Delroz knight quarters, where he stayed instead of the main hall, froze over even colder than usual.

You mustn't meet the duke of Biplten's eyes.

That was why he couldn't stand before the bride.

She believed the rumors and wouldn't treat him like “Den.”

[The duke of Biplten can freeze a person with a mere glance.]

It was the rumor that had eased his life since he'd ascended the ducal seat as a boy, right up to now.

But this time, he despised it.

It was uncomfortable.

That rumor barring the way between him and the bride made him unbearably restless.

“Lord Aden. The elders have arrived.”

Aden halted his tapping.

“Let them in.”

The once-silent knight quarters soon filled with noise.

The presence of non-knights was always this loud and grating.

Aden recalled that faint pulse, so fragile it seemed her breath might cease at any moment.

If it were something as delicate as Ilrin's Sunlander presence, he might not want to crush it.

“Your Grace.”

The elders of the three houses bowed deeply.

Aden knew the truth.

Fear drove them, not loyalty.

“What is it?”

“The wedding is soon.”

Ridan of Azure Noz was the first to speak.

I've been more preoccupied with it than you lot.

The thought slipped into Aden's mind unbidden.

“The wedding preparations will be handled by our Verdant Mille—”

“What do you mean? We naturally assumed Luminous Ello would oversee them.”

These three had come together, yet they couldn't even agree? Aden watched their squabble with a bored expression.

“Weddings have always been hosted by Verdant Mille up to now.”

“That was only when the bride was from the Winter Lands. Didn't even the previous duchess prefer Ello's venues above all?”

The previous duchess.

His mother.

The Sunlander mother.

Aden's gaze fixed on the elder from Ello.

The man coughed awkwardly.

“That was because she'd lingered long in Biplten. Would someone fresh from the Sunlands just days ago be swayed by those venue lights?”

The elder from Mille shot back, unable to contain his agitation.

Aden raised a hand.

A signal to shut up.

He spoke slowly.

“I fail to see why you assume it's Ello or Mille as a given.”

Aden thought of Ilrin.

Even during the days they hadn't met, she'd wandered the manor grounds now and then to acclimate to winter or left her windows open.

But she still couldn't muster the nerve to step outside without the Noz artifact.

Aden had no intention of letting her venture out.

“No special procedures. The wedding will take place here in the manor.”

Just like that, straight to the vows.

This marriage was a peculiar case even by Biplten standards.

The bride being a Sunlander was unusual in itself, but since the previous duchess had been one too, it wasn't the jaw-dropping shock it might have been.

But the previous duchess had married for love.

She had stayed long enough in Biplten to adapt to the climate before moving to a Luminous Ello venue for the ceremony.

Ello boasted a hall lit with dazzling lights reminiscent of the sunlight she'd gone so long without.

She had adored it.

This bride's circumstances were vastly different.

Above all, this was a contract marriage.

The bride could leave whenever she wished.

Aden thought of Ilrin's eyes.

Those clear violet eyes held a resilience unlike his mother's.

She had no intention of leaving this land.

At least, not now.

“Sunlanders are frail compared to Biplten folk. Naturally weak to the cold, as well.”

“We must coddle her as gently as possible.”

Well-meaning meddling poured in from all sides under the guise of advice.

In the end, all the cumbersome rituals were scrapped.

Ilrin's side had agreed, citing the need to brave the harsh outdoor weather for any ceremony.

It was a contract marriage, after all.

The bride had come to Biplten seeking something, just as Aden had launched the bride search to silence the elders' clamor.

The marriage itself was all that mattered.

The elders would demand heirs next, but the next cyclical succession rite was three years away.

Until then, they had no choice but to hold their tongues.

“......”

He spotted the bride from afar.

She was looking at the marriage vows laid out before her.

As usual, she wore the blue cloth atop her head and a light coat draped over her shoulders.

In Biplten, it passed for a gown, but it looked comically oversized on her.

He didn't know it, but by Sunlands standards, it was quite thick winter garb.

She looks buried in that outfit, Aden thought.

He approached the bride without a sound.

Imagining her shock at eye contact—perhaps fainting outright—stirred complicated feelings in his chest.

It's a loveless marriage anyway.

Aden gathered his thoughts thus.

Yet his heart thudded all the same.