The Beast That Refuses the Leash

Deciding to go retrieve Mathias was one thing. Whether he would meekly go along with it was another matter entirely. Regrettably, he was not the sort of dog who wagged his tail for just anyone. He did not easily allow others into his space.

From their very first meeting, he had been a boy utterly devoid of any trace of cuteness. It would be madness to find a beast cub drenched in the blood of some forty enemy soldiers adorable, but despite his strikingly handsome face, his personality was all sharp edges and corners.

Yes. If he had any flaw at all, it was that unsocialized temperament of his. Those with clouded eyes would sigh dreamily and package his rudeness as something beyond mere bluntness—claiming his utter disregard for others lent him a certain dangerous allure that made him even more attractive. In the end, though, the truth was simple: he had a filthy temper.

A man who looked like a gentleman but behaved like anything but. Born a commoner, he carried himself with more noble dignity than most aristocrats, and his rigid personality clashed violently with his devout-looking face. That was what he was famous for.

He maintained strict distance in all human relationships. He was the kind of man who even drew a clear line with his own lord. While the world grew anxious at the sight of his isolation and desperately tried to pull him out of it, he seemed just as desperate to remain alone. There was nothing cute about that arrogant demeanor.

'That damn devout mutt.'

Even the slang used to refer to him in the capital’s social circles was far from ordinary. Countless women had burned with desperate longing to touch that sleek, hunting-dog body of his. They had dangled beauty, power, and wealth before him in every conceivable temptation, yet he had never once climbed into their beds. How they had seethed with frustration.

In other words, he was not the type who could be tamed with money or intimidated with authority. It was truly puzzling why such a man had submitted so obediently to Joslyn. Still, just because he was young did not mean he would be an easy opponent. If one tried to slip a collar around his neck, there was a very real chance the leash would end up around one’s own.

Could he be subdued by force? No.

Did she have enough money to buy him? No.

Did she possess the authority to threaten him? No.

Was she beautiful enough to seduce him? No.

Her figure might be passable if she gained a little weight. Even in her current painfully thin state, she still had some curves. But what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did that matter? If he were the sort of man who fell for a woman’s body, the number of beds he had lain in would have easily surpassed several hundred.

But Lyla, not a single one of those women renowned for their beauty ever managed to drag Mathias into bed.

There were, sometimes, men upon whom the weapon called beauty simply did not work. If Mathias—not Joslyn—had been king, the term “pillow talk” would have vanished from this world. He was equally cold and merciless to both women and men.

‘I set out on this journey without a plan, but I still don’t know. I have no idea how to make that boy mine.’

To be completely honest, half of her felt like she was marching toward death.

After all, whether she died at Mathias’s hands or struggled through life as a crippled, pitiful duchess before dying—what was the real difference? She did not want to live so desperately that she would cling to his trouser leg and beg, but neither did she want to live a miserable existence.

It was a gamble. If she could bring Mathias to her side, it would be a victory. If not, it meant bankruptcy. The price would be her life, or a wretched existence spent barely clinging to survival.

Blair would eventually marry and start a family of his own. There was no guarantee he would take responsibility for his disabled sister for the rest of her life. Men, after all, tended to change once they had families of their own.

In the end, life was every person for themselves. She had to survive on her own. Living modestly with a partner in this body was out of the question, and she would likely be abandoned once she grew old.

Right now she still had the weapon of youth, but that too would vanish with age. She had to prepare for the rest of her life while she was still young—while she still could.

“Odeliana, can you see it? That’s Anatolia up ahead.”

“……Yes. I see it.”

In one year, that city would be reduced to ruins by the outbreak of the great barbarian subjugation war. And now it lay right before her eyes.

‘It’s been a while.’

It was a city soon to be engulfed in battle with the barbarians, yet it still looked remarkably peaceful. In her previous life, it had been the first city she set foot in when she joined the allied forces. She had rolled around in blood there without pause, so honestly, she did not have particularly fond memories of the place.

“We’re almost there, so get ready to disembark.”

As the rattling carriage began to slow, the sight of tall, weathered castle walls appeared in the distance. At a glance they looked shabby and in dire need of repair. It was immediately clear why the city had fallen so easily to the barbarians—the state of the walls alone told the whole story.

The Bolunye River wound around the base of the walls. The deep waters and fierce currents made the city geographically well-suited to repel invasions, which was probably why they had grown lax in troop management and left the walls neglected. They must have relied solely on their natural ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠defenses and lived in complacency.

‘If only they had properly maintained the walls, the city wouldn’t have fallen so quickly.’

She had expected a simple inspection at the checkpoint before the gates, but the Anatolia guards took one look at the Grusewald ducal crest engraved on the carriage and immediately cleared the way without any inspection at all.

Moreover, once they passed through the walls, a guide sent by the lord was already waiting to greet them. Following his lead, they arrived at the castle where the lord of Anatolia resided.

The moment she stepped down from the carriage, the lord—who had been waiting in advance—approached.

“Welcome. You must be exhausted after such a long journey.”

“It has been a long time, my lord.”

“And this person beside you is…?”

The middle-aged lord, whose face carried a somewhat indolent air, looked at Odeliana with open curiosity. More precisely, after glancing once at her face, his gaze immediately dropped to the vehicle she was riding in. A flash of pity crossed his eyes in an instant.

“Ah… she is a distant relative of mine.”

What a wretched situation, that she could not even call her own brother her brother.

“I see. I have prepared accommodations for you. What are you waiting for? Escort them at once.”

The castle guide promptly showed Blair and Odeliana to the guest rooms. Among the many available, they were given the largest and most beautifully landscaped one.

“Odeliana, rest in your room for a while. I need to speak with the lord, so I’ll be gone briefly. It won’t take long.”

“Alright. Take your time.”

After Blair left, the assigned maid smiled kindly and asked,

“Is there anything you need?”

“No, not at the moment. I’ll call ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if I need help later.”

“Understood. Please rest comfortably. Call for me anytime if you require anything.”

Once the maid had gone, Odeliana reviewed the one-week schedule she had planned in advance.

‘It begins now.’

Just because she had arrived in Anatolia did not mean she could immediately go see Mathias. The longest she could walk on her own while relying on her cane was at most thirty minutes.

Because of her disability, Blair had already instructed the castle staff to keep a close eye on her. With so many watchful eyes and the considerable distance between the inner district where the castle stood and the outer district where Kobeck lay, it would not be easy.

Slipping out of the castle without Blair’s knowledge and heading to Kobeck was impossible. Nor would Blair ever willingly take her to a slum like Kobeck.

That was why she had spent the entire journey worrying about how to reach Kobeck after arriving in Anatolia. Since she could not shake Blair off—they were supposedly traveling together—she had arranged the itinerary so they would stop at a village adjacent to Kobeck.

Fortunately, Calvera Village, which bordered Kobeck, was Anatolia’s largest commercial district. It was currently the season of the night market. If she could acquire the necessary items there—self-defense weapons, poison, and other supplies—then slip away from Blair, hire a carriage, and head out, she should be able to reach Kobeck without too much difficulty.

So far, everything was proceeding according to plan.

The only problem was that she had no plan for after arriving in Kobeck. From the moment she set foot in that place, she would have to rely entirely on luck. In a den of crime like that, she could meet a terrible end before even finding Mathias. She might fail to find him at all. And even if she did find him, there was no guarantee he would do as she wished.

Still, she had to settle everything within the one week she would stay here. She had come with the resolve to either claim Mathias or fail spectacularly, so she had no intention of hesitating now.

There was nowhere to retreat, and nowhere else to advance. This was an all-or-nothing gamble.