Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Nighttime Concerns
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"Of course, I know you can sleep alone, Miss. But Young Master Theodor specifically told me to check on your bed. Just in case it's uncomfortable or you have nightmares."
Breina had come up with an excuse she figured would work best on Lara. And it was true—Theodor had indeed warned both her and Marsha about it.
Sure enough, the mention of Theodor softened Lara's expression. She still seemed unaccustomed to the idea that he cared so much about her, but she didn't dislike it.
"So, put those thoughts aside and sleep well, Miss."
Only then did Lara nod.
Breina checked her bedding just as Marsha had done before leaving the room.
"......"
As Lara's chief physician, Breina had been carefully observing her psychological changes and the behaviors stemming from them.
That tiny body was still covered in traces of abuse. The bruises showed no sign of fading from their bluish hue. The same went for the scars whose origins were unknown.
Even an unconscious gesture of raising a hand during conversation would make Lara flinch and shrink back. If her voice grew too loud amid the servants, she would clamp her mouth shut and cast her eyes downward. Each time, her body would tremble faintly.
Because of this, Breina and Marsha had to be even more cautious in their movements around Miss Lara. But strangely, all these symptoms vanished the moment Master Theodor appeared before her.
It was odd. It hadn't been long since he'd rescued her from that den of abuse, and humans didn't change so quickly. Yet his mere presence seemed like a potent medicine for her.
'Master Theodor said he rescued Miss Lara himself.'
Breina couldn't imagine it. She knew well how prickly and cold the usual Theodor was.
The curse on the Diarc Family amplified their senses. The curse on the Wolfkin clan was powerful, as if exacting a toll for their immense strength and abilities. But even setting that aside, the master avoided interactions and contact with others to an extreme degree—a stark contrast to the previous heads of Diarc, which sometimes left Breina feeling uneasy.
Until now, he had neither sought a doctor's help nor allowed one near. Not even with Breina, Lepayrun's finest physician, right under his nose. So she doubted he'd ever resolve her questions.
'It's clear the master treats only Miss Lara differently.'
Was this because of that legend about the 'Bride of the Wolf'? Breina, trained in proper medicine, struggled to explain it. Was Miss Lara truly the 'Bride of the Wolf'? How could the master be so certain? His reactions made it seem...
Breina sighed heavily. Only another Wolfkin could fully understand such matters. Better to focus on Miss Lara.
If she still felt uneasy around Marsha or her, maybe ask the master to help.
'If I ask him to stay by her side until she falls asleep... what face would he make? Still, maybe I should suggest it? You never know. No, but...'
As the night deepened, so did Breina's worries.
In Aren, at a luxury hotel.
Theodor stepped down from his carriage and stared impassively at the hotel where Claude was staying.
The manager, who had rushed over upon hearing late of Duke Theodor Diarc's visit, greeted him with a beaming smile.
"An honor to meet you, Duke Diarc. We're delighted you've graced Mason Hotel with your presence."
This was a hotel run by the third son of Count Mason. Not the heir, he had left the count's territory early to settle in Aren. Theodor looked down at the manager, whose chin was starting to sprout a beard, and said,
"I'm here to meet someone. No need for a fuss."
"Understood. We'll prepare a quiet space for your meeting right away."
Aren was Theodor's domain. The manager, well aware of who its lord was, swiftly issued orders to his staff.
"Whom might Your Grace be seeking?"
Mason Hotel guarded its guests' secrets fiercely, thanks to the Mason name. But even that rule bent before Duke Theodor Diarc.
Dukes stood above most conventions anyway, and an unspoken rule of hotel management was no exception.
"Probably... in your finest suite."
Theodor said coolly, gazing up at the hotel. The manager immediately knew whom he meant. He had been paying special attention to that guest already and made a troubled face.
"In that case, Your Grace..."
"I'll go to him myself."
The manager swallowed dryly. He could only pray inwardly that these two titans resolved things as peacefully as possible.
The top floor of Mason Hotel.
From the hotel's highest point, offering a panoramic view of the frozen winter city of Aren, there was Claude.
Having left the warm southern Ruberon territory of Renar, Claude shivered in Aren’s cold—only to now indulge in the soft, warm flesh of a woman. Business as usual for him.
"Oh, Sir Claude! Not there..."
"You're so naughty!"
Theodor, standing before the door to Claude's suite, scowled.
His acute senses painted a vivid picture of what was happening behind the firmly shut door, thoroughly souring his mood.
'Giggling like that...'
He ground his teeth and held back once.
"Wait, I think someone's here?"
"Ignore the outside, Sir Claude. Play with me more."
"Haha, sorry, sorry. I'll be right back. Just wait a sec."
Claude had noticed Theodor's arrival too. The door opened soon after, and Theodor held back a second time.
'Perfume, cosmetics...'
Theodor sneered lightly at the scene visible through the open door.
'And booze.'
What a sight. On the massive, lavish bed lay women half-undressed, clutching sheets to cover themselves, amid scattered expensive liquor, jewelry, and undergarments. Claude, barely in a white shirt with sleeves half-on, grinned welcomingly at Theodor.
"Whoa, if it isn't the duke himself?"
At 'duke,' the women who had been laughing merrily moments ago paled. Half dove under the covers, hiding their faces completely; the other half scurried to the room's inner chambers.
Claude glanced at them and shook his head.
"See? You show up, and the ladies just... Ah, you ruined the mood. Ease up that scary face, Theodor. You're frightening the girls."
Theodor knew exactly why the women had turned ashen and hidden.
'They don't want to show their faces to me.'
The vassals who swore loyalty to Aren’s ruler, Theodor, and the central nobles seeking his favor sometimes resorted to needless tactics.
Theodor Diarc. The new head of the Diarc Family—prime age for vigorous blood, they figured. So they sent women to where he was: sometimes his Aren estate, sometimes the front lines where he made his name.
It happened because they didn't know him well.
Theodor never touched the human women clearly sent to please him, sending them back untouched and warning the fools behind it.
Do it again, and prepare to lose your head.
Word of this spread quietly, turning it into an occasional mishap by those too reckless with their necks.
And some of these women might have crossed paths with Theodor before.
Innocent, they were sent back as-is, but faithfully delivered his unaltered message to their masters—leaving most terrified.
As Claude noted, maybe Theodor's frozen expression was why people feared him. Not that Theodor cared.
"I'm not in the mood for jokes. Shut it appropriately."
As Theodor fiddled ominously with the buckle of his black leather gloves, Claude grumbled while properly donning his white shirt, stained with red marks around the collar.
"You're no fun at all. Zero sense of humor. You know that, right?"
"Come out here. Close the door and talk."
Theodor spoke without glancing at the women still holding their breath, watching him warily. But Claude seemed displeased with the suggestion.
He shrugged and said,
"What? If you've got something to say, come in. I'm a VIP here. Rented the whole floor. No hobby of chatting in hallways while wasting a fine room like this."
When Theodor didn't budge, Claude sneered first.
"Oh, does noble Theodor find places like this unbearable even for a moment? Too dirty? Too filthy?"
Theodor held back a third time—and that was the end of his patience.
Afterward, only the sound of him securely fastening his leather glove buckles echoed.