Chapter 139
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 139
“Ah... I see.”
Tyron found himself at a loss for words.
Whether he noticed the men staring at him in a daze or not, the man sitting composed atop his warhorse gave a blunt nod.
“Pardon the delay.”
With that, he began to lead his horse forward as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Tyron felt the tension drain out of him and slid his sword back into its sheath. Daren spoke up, attempting to smooth over the awkward atmosphere.
“You’ve heard the news that Her Highness the Grand Duchess is expecting, haven’t you? Since it’s her first pregnancy, the Grand Duke is quite concerned. Her Highness has always had a delicate appetite and is rather particular, after all. That’s why he’s paying such special attention to her meals.”
It doesn’t seem like much has changed from before...
Tyron swallowed the sarcasm rising in his throat as he glanced at his lord’s retreating back.
This was the man who had once run a spear through a man the size of a mountain simply because he had dared to lay a hand on his wife.
And what about when the Grand Duchess had collapsed? Not only did he have all sorts of rare ingredients flown in from the Central Region, but he had even personally served her meals like a common servant.
Now that an heir was on the way, it was easy to imagine just how much of a fuss he would make.
“I have also heard the auspicious news that you are to have an heir. My sincerest congratulations, Your Excellency.”
A merchant, who had been following quietly at a distance, suddenly interjected. He seemed well aware that his fate rested in the hands of the young Grand Duke.
The man, who had been unable to hide his discontent while being virtually hauled from the North, now wore a slick smile and flattered him busily.
“It is a small gesture, but our guild has prepared a congratulatory gift. We heard the Grand Duchess is fond of fresh fruit, so we mobilized our entire distribution network to bring in the freshest harvest... though I do not know if they will suit Her Highness’s tastes.”
The Grand Duke, who had just emerged from the forest and was ascending a hill, looked back at the merchant over his shoulder. For the first time, a spark of interest appeared in eyes that usually regarded people as if they were inanimate objects.
“I heard you reside in the North, yet you are well-informed about the affairs here.”
“The ears and mouths of merchants are faster than the wind, Your Excellency. Rumors that you are seeking rare fruits for the Grand Duchess are widespread among the traders.”
“...I shall have to hope that such information-gathering skills are not put to the wrong use.”
At the veiled threat, a faint tension settled on the merchant’s oily, shimmering face. He seemed to realize only then that this was not a man who could be swayed by trivial bribes or flattery.
Gulping dryly, the man lowered his gaze with an awkward laugh. Barkas watched him with a cold expression before spurring his horse forward again.
Tyron increased his speed to follow. Before long, the massive walls surrounding Kalmor revealed themselves over the hill.
As they approached, Daren barked out orders in a booming voice.
“Zram sightings in the Argand Forest! Dispatch a search party immediately and tighten security on all thoroughfares in the northwestern region!”
As his voice echoed, the soldiers lined up atop the walls scattered quickly. They moved with urgency, intent on delivering the news to the garrison immediately.
Leaving the commotion behind, Barkas passed through the city gates and cut across the town center. Finally, the magnificent walls surrounding Raedgo Castle filled their vision.
Stepping inside, Tyron took a slow look around the castle grounds, returning for the first time in nearly a month. Surrounded by the familiar environment, a wave of fatigue he hadn’t realized he was carrying finally hit him.
He dismounted and massaged his stiff shoulders.
When he had left for the North under Barkas’s orders, the atmosphere of war had been escalating to a dangerous level, but it had since subsided beneath the surface. This was largely thanks to the Season of Rest, which had choked the supply routes to the North.
Furthermore, Barkas’s political pressure on the conservative nobles had played a major role. Sensing that the situation was turning grim, some of the Northern nobles had begun to lie low.
If they could succeed in seizing control of the Northern distribution networks during this window, even House Heimdall would not be able to start a war rashly.
Now it all depends on how we handle that man.
Tyron looked at the guild leader whispering with his subordinates in a corner of the courtyard before turning his gaze back to Barkas.
The Duke was handing over the game he had tied to his saddle to the servants. Seeing that relaxed posture, the tension left Tyron’s shoulders once more.
It seemed his lord was more concerned with the dishes that would grace his wife’s table than the question of whether a rebellion would break out.
Tossing aside his soiled gloves, the man gave meticulous instructions to the servants.
“Pick the one with the most tender meat and roast it. Clean the rest for a stew, and use the spices moderately.”
“I will keep that in mind, Your Excellency.”
The servants who received the five pheasants immediately hurried toward the kitchen. Judging by how they moved in perfect order without a hint of fluster, it was clear this wasn’t the first time he had personally brought back game.
Surely, the main purpose of this patrol wasn’t just hunting...
As Tyron watched Barkas with a suspicious eye, the man, who had been turning toward the Main Palace, suddenly came to a halt.
Tyron instinctively followed his gaze and caught his breath.
Near the entrance of the Main Palace, by a small fountain, sat a blonde woman draped in silver fur.
The moment he saw her face, framed by the pale winter light, his mind seemed to go blank.
When they had first met, she was a woman who gave off a chilling, eerie aura. But now, the woman who had once seemed so unstable she might shatter at any moment was radiating a pearlescent glow, infused with a languid vitality.
While Tyron stood dazed by the surreal sight, the Lord of the East reached her in a few long strides.
“Why are you out here?”
The woman’s large eyes, which had been looking up at the sky as if dreaming while awake, turned toward her husband. A faint smile spread across a face that had once been frozen in coldness.
“I came out to watch the snow.”
“It isn’t time for snow yet.”
“No, it was fluttering a bit earlier. If I wait, more might fall.”
“You can see it from inside the room just as well.”
“It’s stifling to stay in the bedroom all the time. And Marisen said it’s better for me to move around a little.”
The woman’s brow furrowed slightly, as if she didn’t want to hear a lecture.
“If you’re going to nag me every time I come outside, why did you give me this fur as a gift in the first place?”
“I didn’t give it to you so you could roam the castle in such a defenseless state.”
“What’s wrong with how I look?”
Her eyes narrowed as her irritation grew. With her cheeks flushed as if she were suffering from a slight fever, she looked strangely provocative.
Perhaps feeling a similar sentiment, a peculiar tension flickered across the man’s sculpted, stone-like face. Unaware of this, the woman continued to press him.
“Tell me. Is there something wrong with my appearance?”
The man, his lips pulled tight with tension, let out a long exhale. He took off the coat he was wearing and tossed it to the squire standing behind him. Then, he carefully gathered his wife into his arms.
“I smell of the hunt, but bear with me for a moment.”
Before she could offer any protest, he strode toward the entrance of the Main Palace. Those gathered in the courtyard watched the scene with dazed expressions.
And for good reason. With her brilliant golden hair, blue eyes, and skin as white as alabaster, they looked like beings detached from the mortal world.
“...They truly are a well-matched pair.”
The Northern merchant spoke as if in awe.
Tyron frowned, finding the words strange.
Certainly, they suited each other like a pair of thoroughbreds. It was almost surprising to think that for years, the two of them had been little more than bitter enemies.