Nights Fall Swiftly in the North
The North was always fine, they said, but northern nights always came quickly. It was winter, so the days were short anyway, but the mountain ranges encircling the North made them even shorter. This place was like a basin, but the terrifying terrain scared even the sun away.
A warm energy was filling the study. Had time passed this quickly already?
"Prepare the bath. I need to turn in early tonight."
"Right away, Your Grace!"
I spoke quietly at the door, and I heard the guards scurrying off. Hygiene issues. That was the North's biggest weakness. Where could anyone bathe up here? There wasn't time to stoke fires or heat water properly. We couldn't just tell everyone to jump into the frozen rivers either.
So I tore down the cities and rebuilt them from scratch. That's the Northern Grand Duke for you. Would you believe me if I said I just couldn't stand the smell?
"Alfredo, tell the Minister of the Interior to prepare a report on the North's sewage and plumbing issues."
"I'll inform him right away."
"Mm, I want to hear it at tomorrow's meeting, so even a summary will do."
"Yes, sir."
Sometimes I felt like a ruthless factory owner. But what could I do? Noblesse oblige, right? Lord de Wintergard had said he'd never seen a duke who worked this hard. The military had it easier, at least, but the ministers handling internal affairs were dying on their feet. Still, I didn't make them do rotating shifts. I sent them liquor and gifts often enough. Where else would you find a boss like that?
"Good. Good. Oh, and make sure to tell the maids too. Have them wash the lady from the Bart family thoroughly. Make sure every bit of sickness is gone."
"We've prepared hot water."
"Excellent."
I headed to the back of the palace. It wasn't open to the public, but it was a place where hot water was always available for bathing. I wished I could call it a hot spring, but it was just water forcibly boiled with magic stones. The discovery of magic stones. That, combined with modern knowledge and the labor of Northerners, had made it possible.
"You should bathe too, Alfredo."
"I must attend to you first, Your Grace. I'll wash up later."
"Ha, fine."
I sank into the bubbling warm water. It had been nearly twenty years since I became the Northern Grand Duke. I'd forgotten all about novels in that time. From the moment I took the title, there was no going to the Imperial Academy. No becoming the heroine of a reverse harem either. Hell, how could I fall in love with someone I'd never even met?
Twenty years. Using the novel's worldview knowledge, I'd turned the North into a livable place. It felt like something was sweeping me along.
"Hm..."
But being swept along didn't mean inevitable doom. The novel had dismissed the North in a few lines, but things were different now. In the story, it was a freezing wasteland ruled by a cruel duke. The black-haired duke threatened Cartina de Bosch and the Crown Prince before vanishing, leaving only nagging words behind...
Now it was different.
"I can't get a full grasp on the Empire's situation. It's unsettling."
"Your Grace."
"Have you heard?"
"Yes. My apologies."
It was owl. Not a real owl, but the code word for my secret organization that only I knew about. Separate from Dorgon's intelligence network, this was my private one. Even Dorgon didn't know what the owls were. They gathered information beyond the intelligence ministry.
The Northern ministers had sworn loyalty to me, but childhood trauma lingered. Betrayal by someone close. That fear drove me to detect it early.
"You say you don't know the Empire's situation well? We can't have that. Nothing new to report?"
"That's right, Your Grace. We're always monitoring the North's internal affairs."
"Report any uprisings or noble corruption immediately."
"Understood."
It wasn't suspicion. People were unpredictable. The past made it even scarier. Swearing loyalty to Wintergard alone was a double-edged sword. I knew the moment a true Wintergard faltered. Ancient history, but still.
"Then I'll be off."
When my fingertips started pruning, I stepped out of the bath. I changed into fresh clothes and returned to my chambers. The documents were neatly sorted, but one person was missing: Daniela.
After cleaning up, the door opened. Alfredo and a few maids carried her in. She'd been fine in the bath, but the wind had brought the fever back. They'd carried her to keep her comfortable. Very polite of them.
"We'll lay her down again."
"Is her hair dry?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
They carefully placed Daniela on the bed. She'd been lucid earlier, and now her blue eyes were spinning alertly. She seemed somewhat aware.
I sat in the chair and watched her quietly. Propped against the pillows, Daniela sat up on the bed.
"Mm, well, hello?"
"..."
Daniela was gauging me. I rested my hand on the armrest, propped my chin, and pretended to do something. I opened a book. It wasn't that interesting, but books were among the tributes always sent to the Grand Duke. Every time we supplied silk, it felt like a book was a loss. Some were entertaining, though.
I only pretended to read; my attention was on Daniela in the bed.
"Y-you're reading a popular novel."
"Don't like these?"
I glanced at the cover. Popular novels. Something nobles avoided. With their pride, and in a world where many couldn't read, reading marked you as intellectual. Or rich. And wealth meant more such stories circulated.
The title was emblazoned largely on the cover.
"It's popular in the South, they said when they sent it. Guess not."
"..."
The conversation stalled oddly. What was wrong with popular novels? I approached Daniela with the book, sitting by the bedside and reaching out. She flinched and pulled away, lowering her gaze.
"Let me check your fever. Come here."
Maybe I got too close. She stopped recoiling. I touched her forehead. Still hot. The feverish flush had faded some, but not entirely. The maids must have worked hard. She smelled nice.
"You're still not well. Take your medicine and sleep. You need to be better by tomorrow."
I returned to my seat and read the novel. In a world without phones or TVs, books were the way to unwind. My eyes flicked between her and the pages.
"D-did you read the letter, Your Grace?"
"Of course I did, Daniela."
"What did it m-mean?"
"I know enough."
The rustle of turning pages. Daniela's body was fading; the fever rising. That's when Alfredo arrived with the medicine. Perfect timing.
"I've brought the medicine."
"Daniela, you have to take it. Once you start getting sick in the North, it never ends."
Daniela's expression looked fearful. Ah, that was it.
"We don't stoop to poisoning medicine. Right, Alfredo?"
"It would tarnish the North's honor. Especially to a 'guest.'"
Guest. In Northern etiquette, killing a guest was an enormous taboo. I'd heard a legend from the Red Horse nomads: in the North, gods watch over guests because anyone could fall anytime. An old tale. But that tradition of honoring guests held. Nobles never broke it. Especially not by poison? You'd have to forfeit the Grand Duchy—or someone else would die in your place.
"Don't worry. It's really just medicine."
Daniela cautiously took the spoon. The medicine slid down her throat bit by bit. It reduced fever but induced drowsy sleep—not bad, just a languid pull.
"Anyway, Daniela, the North will welcome you as a guest."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"I'm dying to hear what happened. We don't know much about the Academy or the Empire."
"Th-that's..."
"I know some of your story already."
Did she understand? Daniela's face hardened. She'd been weak before, but now her eyes burned—not with fever, but something else. Not anger. Sadder, almost. Regret. Yes, regret.
She began her tale, matching the reports. But the aftermath was more tangled. The Academy was like the Empire's political arena, even more entangled in connections. So,
"...After the duel, I tried going to various places. But"
"But?"
"No one would take me. Because I wasn't... from Bart. I, I..."
The medicine was kicking in. She mentioned her symptoms worsening. I approached, touched her forehead, and gently laid her down. The fever was flaring.
"It's okay. Rest now. Everything's fine here. Daniela."
"Y-yes. I, I..."
"No. It's okay. Everything's okay."
Everything would be okay. That was the last thing Daniela heard. And all I wanted was to make it so.