Chapter 12

Was this what the foreigners called an open-air hot spring? Would the temperature difference be even greater there? They said the nearest hot spring village from Oedel was several days away, which probably meant it was incredibly far.

Would there ever come a day when I left Oedel? f I were to get married out of necessity, I would absolutely hate that…

With her body no longer busy, her thoughts became increasingly restless. She let the fleeting thoughts drift by as she blankly examined her own body.

‘…Ah.’

Her wrists were mottled with marks. Come to think of it, hadn’t her wrists been gripped tightly last night? Only then did the woman notice the state her body was in. No wonder Selma had wrapped her in a shawl so tightly. Lip marks, bruises, and handprints—yellowish and bluish as they faded—were vividly imprinted on her skin.

As each mark reminded her of the man’s desperate lips and the relentless grip of his hands…

‘…He was truly rough.’

She didn’t know how intimacy was usually conducted, but the knight from last night had seemed like a man being chased. As if someone might take her away from him, he had gripped her fiercely with his large hands, pushed her as though he couldn’t afford to stop for even a moment, and kissed her all over, as if he wanted to claim every part of her.

All those traces were left on her body.

‘Is he someone with many scars?’

The thought struck her, and the woman shook her head violently. Her hair, damp with steam, clung to her forehead.

Scars? What nonsense. He was the son of the renowned Montferdia family. It was ridiculous to entertain such baseless fantasies.

‘The Shield of Cambiano, Montferdia…’

On his way to this remote mountain village, he must have encountered many women like her at every inn. In the capital, there must have been countless women willing to spend a night with him. And if they were noblewomen, they would have been so high-ranking that she, had she met them, would have been able to do nothing but bow low and barely catch a glimpse of their feet.

‘…Selma always said people should know their place.’

It would be a good memory. Though Selma had fussed as if she had committed an irreversible mistake, how many women in their lifetime would have the fortune to spend a night with someone so noble and beautiful?

Especially someone like her, a commoner of no worth.

‘Fortune only comes once. This is the end.’

She told herself not to indulge in useless sentimentality. Just because they had shared a bed once, she couldn’t dare to feel closer to him.

‘…I hope Selma lets me rest tomorrow as well.’

If so, she could practice the crochet she had learned from Lenny, the merchant’s daughter, repair the chemise she couldn’t wear because the knees were worn out, and maybe even finish the winter chemise she hadn’t been able to complete for weeks.

And she wouldn’t have to see the man who kept drawing her gaze every time she went to the dining hall for work.

***

“Your Lordship.”

It was during the early morning training of the expedition team, which had gone on longer than usual. Pale morning sunlight filtered weakly through the tall coniferous forest surrounding Oedel.

Karel, who had been repeatedly slashing his sword, finally stopped at the call of his lieutenant.

If the leader didn’t rest, neither could his subordinates. Though training had ended long ago, Karel continued his own practice without any intention of calling it off, leaving the members of the team exchanging glances and waiting eagerly for his signal.

“The emergency rations are almost ready. The survival supplies will be delivered in five days.”

“I see.”

“We should be able to depart before the next full moon.”

“…”

At the mention of the departure date, the knights shifted their eyes, exchanging glances.

“It’s a five-day journey to the Imperial estate boundary. Factoring in battles with magical beasts, it should take about ten days. That means we’ll reach the lair before the new moon, and even if we spend a few days on the mission, we should return within a month.”

“In other words?”

“Yes. We can return before Magiella’s Night. Mathematically speaking.”

At the lieutenant Winden’s matter-of-fact report, Karel swallowed his solemn thoughts.

Though his despair was silent, the knights of the expedition team all suppressed bitter smiles. Their expressions echoed the mercenaries hired for this mission, who had spat on the ground disdainfully.

Magiella’s Night.

It was a term for the harsh, freezing nights that occurred roughly once every seven years. When the blue moon, which orbited every two years, waxed full in winter, the north was struck by a brutal cold. The indigenous people of the north called it “Magiella,” after the Fairy Mother whose grief over her daughter slain by the mad dragon brought forth the cold.

During the three days of Magiella’s Night, no one ventured outside in the north of Cambiano. Those who miscounted the days, were driven from their homes, became too drunk to find their way back, or found themselves out for any reason during Magiella’s Night were later found frozen, their blood turned to ice.

It was into such a place that the man’s unit was being sent.

An expedition to the Gray Mountain Range in the dead of winter, when Magiella’s chill swept the land, to confirm whether the mad dragon had awakened. The recent increase in dragon subspecies and magical beasts in the Gray Mountain Range was suspected to be a sign of the mad dragon’s awakening.

However, the Gray Mountain Range was always teeming with magical beasts during winters marked by Magiella’s Night. The notion of a dragon awakening was merely a flimsy excuse.

This expedition was nothing more than a grave prepared for Karel Montferdia by the royal family.

To rid themselves of the unruly illegitimate heir of the Ducal family, the royal family and the Duke had conspired, with the added support of the First Princess, to whom he had sworn loyalty. It was a blatant trap.

Karel had survived every grave the royal family and the Duke’s household had thrown him into. Now, it seemed they no longer cared to disguise their intentions, openly throwing him into the jaws of hell.

‘What else could I do? If I don’t send you, His Majesty will suspect I covet the throne.’

Those cold, violet eyes that had looked down at him as she spoke… Even though the one being ordered to die was the knight who had been her companion since childhood, even though he was mocked as the First Princess’s dog in court, her expression had remained utterly unshaken.

Karel turned his back on Winden and resumed his training.

Even if the eyes were the same color, even if they were set in the same face, those cold eyes held no desire for him.

Thus, what happened last night must have been a mistake. With death looming so close, it wasn’t surprising that he had succumbed to temptation and lost his virginity.

The only emotion he should feel was blind loyalty. He could not allow himself to desire that face.

Karel swung his sword through the air repeatedly.

***

The woman started working again after taking exactly three days off. Selma rummaged through the closet and tightly wrapped an unused scarf around her, giving her a stern warning.

“I told the others you had a bad cold, so try not to talk to people too much.”

The woman still didn’t fully understand the logic behind Selma’s concern, but Selma’s expression was so serious that she nodded resolutely.

“Dear, are you alright? I heard you were sick for a few days.”

“Yes…”

“Oh dear, your voice sounds weak. I’ll make sure to add plenty of meat to the stew for you today.”

“Thank you, Simon.”

The woman smiled brightly and hurriedly carried an armful of dishes into the dining hall.

Since she hadn’t been able to do her share of work for a while, she needed to make up for it by working twice as hard. The dining hall, with its tightly shut windows and curtains, was heavy with the smell of alcohol, a testament to the revelry of guests who had stayed late the night before. The scent of wood from the furniture mixed with the aroma of aged liquor from oak barrels and the beer spilled here and there for various reasons filled her nose.

The festivities had ended, and at last, the mundane routine returned.

The woman placed the dishes on one table, briskly pulled back the curtains, and opened the windows with nimble hands. The hinges creaked as the sharp breeze of dawn rushed in. The back of her neck, damp with sweat from moving around in her scarf, cooled instantly.

She mopped the floor, scrubbed away the beer and food stains from the tables, and placed napkins and utensils neatly into wooden containers on each table.

“Hey, breakfast over here!”

Around that time, the chill of dawn mixed with the smell of sweat as the men arrived to start their early morning meal in the dining hall. The woman, without realizing it, brightened and glanced toward them.

It was the man’s unit.

“Only twenty-three portions today!”

“T-Twenty… Oh, alright!”

Twenty-three?

The woman shifted her eyes, scanning the faces of the men who entered. Thanks to her shaggy bangs, no one noticed where her gaze lingered.

Why wasn’t he here?

The man’s unit consisted of exactly twenty-four members. Every morning when she prepared their breakfast, all twenty-four of them would come to eat.

‘…Is he unwell?’

Even after spending the entire night with her, he had gone straight to training.

Or perhaps that was why he had fallen ill?

It felt almost disrespectful to imagine that sturdy, towering figure groaning in pain, but the sudden worry that arose was beyond her control.

‘…No.’