The Insult and the Wintergard Name
He really had no idea what a real threat was. Why? How? Why was Daniela here? And why was she nestled in the Grand Duke's arms? I knew nothing. But one thing was clear: the current situation was far from pleasant.
"My subordinate drew his sword not for any other reason, but because he couldn't tolerate this rudeness unfolding before me, Your Highness."
"Ha! How dare an imperial subject judge what's rude?"
Seeing the Crown Prince throw his tantrum, the man clicked his tongue in disgust. I watched the whole scene from the robes where I couldn't step forward easily, surveying my surroundings.
"Your Highness, judgment belongs to those who are qualified. Didn't it occur to you that decorum had already plummeted to the depths when you were reveling in a woman's tears?"
I glanced at Daniela's face in my arms. She rubbed her tear-streaked cheeks against my chest, not wanting to show them. Leor was glaring from behind, eyes flashing. The other guards couldn't approach easily either.
"How pathetic and foolish must this look?"
"What did you say? Guards, tear this man's mouth apart!"
Only then did a couple of guards start advancing. But they couldn't get close. Leor drew his sword in an instant and stood before the nearest one. He lightly tapped the guard's chest and shoved him back. It was just a gentle push from Leor, but the guard flew back several steps.
"Your Highness, allow me to teach you what I learned in the North."
I signaled Leor to hand me his sword. He placed it reverently on my palm with one hand, gripping the blade until I was ready to take it.
"You said to tear my mouth? Then do it yourself, Your Highness. Take that noble sword and resist me."
I held the sword in one hand and pointed it at the Crown Prince. It was blatant provocation, but he couldn't move. His lips trembled as he clutched Cartina de Bosch's hand tightly. I tsked and chuckled once more.
"If you can't, then just stand there and laugh it off. Along with that Bosch wench."
"Y-You... you're no different!"
I didn't answer the question. Only then did I begin to withdraw from the spot. The banquet hall's tension hadn't eased yet—it was hardly a retreat. I scooped Daniela fully into my arms. Leor followed warily behind. My parting words were simple.
"The North never forgets favors or grudges. You'll pay the price for insulting Wintergard."
As the banquet hall doors closed, Marquis Roland von Bart stared after his daughter and me. He felt no need to enter. It was a new equation.
"Where is Daniela resting?"
"This way, Your Grace."
The maids slowly guided us. The door was open. Leor confirmed we entered, then closed it behind us. No one could enter now—not even Marquis Bart. The quiet room held just the two of us.
"You okay?"
I tried to set Daniela down, but she wouldn't let go easily. I sat carefully on the edge of the bed. She followed, still refusing to show her face.
"Daniela, you okay?"
Clearly not. She kept rubbing her face against my clothes like a child. Just hours ago, she'd been obvious about her reluctance. I figured there was a reason. But I hoped this chance would make her forget it all.
"Look at me."
Heh, a laugh slipped out unbidden. Her short hair kept getting in her mouth. Her eyes were red and swollen double their size from sobbing uncontrollably, her face a mess beyond saving face.
"That must've been tough."
Daniela nodded. I had no words left, so I just stayed quiet. We kept the silence amid the growing clamor outside. Leor would handle it.
"You endured it, though. Good job."
"I figured something like this would happen."
"That's why you didn't want to come."
Daniela finally pulled away from my chest and sat properly on the bed's edge. Tear tracks stained her face. Her dress was torn, its former splendor gone.
"Look at me."
She finally met my eyes properly, though she ducked her head shyly. It was fine by me. Of course, I knew this was all because of my whims.
"I didn't expect you'd face such humiliation there."
"No. It was my fault."
"It's not your fault. It's mine."
If I'd known, I would've left her in the North. My thinking had been shortsighted. I hadn't predicted this—and the Crown Prince showing up here of all places. In the novel, we only crossed paths once, so I assumed the story would flow on its own. But the unexpected happened.
"If I'd known, I would've left you in the North."
"No."
"You wouldn't have suffered this shame."
Was it my self-reproach? She even comforted me, saying it was nothing. But there was one thing I wanted her to understand.
"I thought bringing you back to your homeland would make you happy."
"I am happy."
"Then I'm glad."
I couldn't drag out the words. My heart was racing. The exchange with the Crown Prince had been a kind of mistake—too emotional. But it had to be done. The reason? Well, the reason... It was the unpredictable human heart.
"How could you say that to the Crown Prince?"
Her tears had stopped, emotions settled. We'd been sitting in awkward silence, and this was her way to break it.
Well, I hadn't thought that far. But one thing was sure: the Crown Prince was far less impressive than I'd imagined. What could you expect from a pampered man who'd never fought?
"It's fine. Just a child throwing a fit—I can handle it."
"But you shouldn't have to..."
I didn't like her timid voice. Especially since the cause was that worthless man. It made me angrier.
Of course, I could press her. Why didn't you fight back there?
"I was scared."
The words I hated most.
"No need to worry."
"H-Honestly, I'm just a disgraced woman now, with nothing left. Who would even..."
"Enough."
Her rambling continued. Sitting on the bed's edge, she seemed to fade away. The North had been better. Maybe my whims had caused this. I hated that.
For nearly twenty years as Grand Duke, no one could defy my words.
"The North was great. You welcomed me, it was bright and warm."
"Good to hear."
"That's why I hesitated. I don't deserve this anymore. K-Keep calling me Wintergard? D-Does that even make sense?"
I listened quietly to her ramble. Her worries—why are you so kind to me? Why do this? The North I'd shown her in a month was worlds apart.
"I-I want to ask, Your Grace."
"Anything."
"Am... am I really a Wintergard?"
Wintergard was a title only the Northern Grand Duke could bear. There was just one Wintergard. Except in one case. Everyone knew that.
I decided to give the answer to the question I'd pondered since yesterday.
"Truth is, no. Wintergard is for one person only—unless I allow it."
"I figured..."
"I'll allow it for you. If you don't want von Bart, you'll be Wintergard."
"But..."
"Don't take it too seriously. But know this: you're the only one I've ever permitted to be called Wintergard."
Her ramble picked up. Sometimes it's too much, blah blah. But being called Wintergard is an honor, blah. Did she hate it? Like it? Only one choice anyway.
"Don't like it?"
"Not that, but..."
"I don't want to push. But at least while we're in the South... you have to be Wintergard."
I cupped her cheek.
"Probably my mistake."
I stood.
Conditional permission.
"If it's too much, you don't have to. But if anything happens in the South, you're always Wintergard."
Time to calm the commotion outside. I stroked her hair lightly. Her ramble finally stopped. I told her to rest a bit, then stood before her door.
Leor's booming voice echoed down the hall. Strangely, he only stammered around me.
"I'll say it again: no one enters without the Grand Duke's order."
"This is the Crown Prince's command! Step aside."
"No one enters until the Grand Duke says so."
Before things escalated, I needed to go out.
"Rest a bit. Staying here tonight?"
"N-No, Your Grace. I'll go with you."
"With me?"
"Just... give me a moment."