Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Flustered in the Bustling Streets
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Lara was just as flustered, but Rin was a complete picture of misery, on the verge of tears.
It was only natural! This was Rin's first time here. Having lived only in her rural hometown backwater, the very idea of a crowded, bustling downtown was overwhelming for her—the throngs of people on the streets felt utterly intimidating.
"Um, I don't even know the way! What are we going to do now, miss?!"
But seeing Rin so terribly tense had the opposite effect, somehow making Lara even calmer.
The downtown area was certainly complicated, but Lara had already been here once with Theodor.
Besides, just as Claude had said, with the Pantheon Temple looming so prominently, they wouldn't get lost if they headed straight toward it.
"Uwaaang, I knew it—someone who actually knows this place, like a real maid, should've come with you instead of me! What am I even good for?! I'm so sorry, miss!"
"Rin, calm down."
Passersby glanced curiously at the two well-dressed young ladies floundering right in the middle of the street. Feeling their stares, Lara focused on settling Rin's nerves first.
As Rin buried her face in her palms and gradually calmed, Lara spoke to her.
"It's fine, Rin. Let's wander around downtown a little and then head to the temple. Two hours is more than enough time, even just for us."
"R-really, miss?"
"Yeah. And honestly, having you here makes me feel safe."
"Uu, miss... I feel better with you here too! I'm just nervous right now, but if I handle it like I did back home, it'll be okay! Got it! I'll protect you, miss!"
Watching Rin bounce back with excessive energy in an instant was reassuring. Lara nodded.
"Good."
"Um... so, miss. Where should we go first?"
Even if they were heading for the Pantheon Temple, there were multiple paths through the crowds. Lara thought back to the last time she'd come downtown with Theodor.
'Lord Theo took me to that clothing shop back then.'
The memory surfaced naturally: Theodor gazing at her, the hairpin matching the color of his eyes, and telling her she looked pretty.
"Huh, miss! Your cheeks are all red—did you catch a cold or something?"
Rin peered worriedly at Lara's flushed face. Lara shook her head hastily.
"No. I'm fine."
"Not cold? Want to wrap the cape around you more?"
"No. Come on, Rin."
Lara took Rin's hand. Before Rin could even sputter "Eh?", she was tugged gently along, scrambling to keep her balance as she hurried after Lara.
"Miss, where are we headed?!"
"Anywhere. Doesn't matter."
"Ah, miss! Slow down or you'll trip! Oh no!"
What could anyone accomplish in two hours? If the person in question was Claude, the answer would surprise you—plenty.
"Finally, some time to myself."
Stuck in Theodor's mansion, a place utterly devoid of entertainment, teaching a human girl... it was so dull he thought he'd die of boredom!
"Well, it's all my own fault."
Claude muttered bitterly. He'd somehow snagged the prized position of "Lara's tutor," and he couldn't afford to lose it now.
Lara was more obedient and easy to manage than expected. Gentle and meek by nature, she even called him "teacher" and followed his lead reasonably well.
But the real issue was Theodor. Claude didn't trust him completely. Naturally, Theodor—who'd hired him as Lara's tutor—didn't trust Claude one bit either.
"Tch, what a stubbornly thick-headed bastard."
A seventeen-year-old human girl. And the Bride of the Wolf.
Was Lara's excessive docility just a product of her upbringing? Where exactly had she grown up? It was an environment no one would call normal—had she been abused, perhaps?
The Bride of the Wolf had vanished entirely from the wolfkin world for seventeen years before resurfacing, yet mysteries abounded.
Wolfkin were far stronger than regular humans or other beastkin. Each one crowned the beastkin hierarchy as a powerhouse, yet this mere human Bride had eluded their pursuit for seventeen whole years.
'Doesn't add up easily.'
And of all people, Theodor Diarc had found her. Just look at the man—he seemed the least likely to care about some Bride of the Wolf. As far as Claude knew, Theodor had long doubted his own curse. That icy, ruthless demeanor stemmed from it.
By now, with all Theodor had achieved single-handedly, pinning hopes on a Bride of the Wolf seemed improbable. He already ruled Diarc from the top; she likely meant little to him.
So why—and how—had Theodor found the Bride of the Wolf? Was it tied to his late grandfather? What did he know? And what about Claude's own father?
Every time he saw Lara, Claude sensed something off—like a nagging incongruity.
Lara had this captivating quality that drew the eye. She was still a touch too slender, but she was filling out nicely. Her once pallid, rough skin now glowed with a translucent pink hue, while her mismatched eyes and long lashes lent her the look of a living doll.
Even her long, shimmering silver hair alone made it hard to accept she'd been found in an orphanage rather than some noble house.
But what puzzled Claude most about Lara wasn't that.
'The Bride of the Wolf I saw seventeen years ago. She looks way too much like her.'
He could still vividly recall every moment of that encounter. The serene, quiet lavender eyes of the woman in his memory evoked Lara now. And that rare silver hair? Identical.
The Bride who'd briefly stayed at Claude's mansion seventeen years ago, and Lara. What linked them? The simplest explanation was, of course...
'Blood ties.'
Entirely plausible. Still, he couldn't leap to conclusions over matching hair alone. Back then, young Claude had no clue if she was pregnant.
Whatever the case, he'd made it inside Theodor's mansion—that was a win. All that remained was uncovering the source of this unease and Lara's past.
"...Young Master Claude?"
But then an unwelcome voice halted him.
"Oh my, it is Young Master Claude! Whatever brings the young heir of House Renar all the way to remote Aren?"
She was a young noblewoman—one of the daughters from a prominent northern family stationed in Aren. They'd crossed paths at a ball a year back.
Claude swallowed his irritation and flashed a polished smile.
"Lady Tatia, isn't it? You've grown so stunning, I nearly didn't recognize you."
"Hehe, still the charmer."
She hid a coy smile behind her fan. She'd hounded him with interest all evening at that ball. Not his type—he'd ditched her politely—but clearly, she remembered.
"Fancy meeting you here. What has you wandering this frigid, foreign city alone? And all by your lonesome—how tragic. It doesn't suit you at all, Young Master Claude."
"Haha. I've got business keeping me in Aren awhile. Cold, sure, but it's a beautiful city. I'm rather fond of it."
Claude deftly steered the conversation. Lady Tatia scrutinized the enigmatic young lord. The Mason Hotel sprang to mind as a likely spot, but then she remembered: he was a close friend of Aren’s lord, Duke Theodor Diarc, who commanded vast northern territories.
"Young Master Claude. You wouldn't be staying at Duke Theodor's Ice Castle, would you?"
"Ice Castle? Haha!"
Claude burst out laughing at the moniker. It fit Theodor to perfection—a man like an unmelting glacier, his sprawling Aren mansion no different.
"Ice Castle... spot on. You've nailed it, Lady Tatia."
"The Duke's never once opened that Aren estate. Makes you wonder what he's hiding there—even I'm curious sometimes."
A human snooping on beastkin affairs? Nothing good would come of it. Not that she'd know. Claude feigned obliviousness to her info-fishing and pivoted.
"Out preparing for the Saint Kuchainis festival, Lady Tatia?"
"Indeed. Overseeing this and that."
The servants trailing her lugged heavy loads—clearly, she'd been eagerly awaiting this. Claude hoped that left her no time for idle chat and offered a casual goodbye.
"A chance encounter with an old friend brightens my day. Until next time, and may Saint Kuchainis bless you, Lady Tatia."
She narrowed her eyes at his beaming, line-drawing demeanor. Stepping close, she gazed up and murmured,
"Saint Kuchainis symbolizes lovers' devotion, as you know... Exchanging sweet pastries and all."
She toyed with his exposed shirt collar, then planted a kiss atop it. Stunned by the sudden move, Claude's face stiffened into an awkward grin.
"...Haha. Lady Tatia?"
"Hoping our paths cross again while you're in Aren. I'll be waiting."
With a whispered tease and a wink, she sauntered off.
Claude stood dazed a moment, straightening his rumpled collar with a sigh.
"......Too much popularity is a real hassle sometimes."
