The following morning, Michele tried on the clothes Ain had brought. They were the ones Ain had personally journeyed to the village to procure. The selection of clothing far exceeded Michele’s expectations, ranging from indoor attire that could be simply worn within the mansion to cold-resistant clothing that would keep him safe from the snow and wind. What’s more, they fit Michele’s frame like a glove, as if they had been arranged for him in advance.
“Fortunately, there were some cancelled orders available. The measurements were nearly identical to Sir Anatold’s, so I was able to purchase them right away. …Perhaps they belonged to a young noble from the South who had planned on taking a voyage to the North.”
“Really?” Michele simply viewed it as a sign of his good luck.
Even the material of the clothes Ain had brought felt unfamiliar to him. Instead of the thin, soft fabrics commonly worn in the South, the primary materials were stiff leather and thick fur. Michele stood still, patiently waiting for Ain to dress him.
The higher a noble’s rank, the more likely their attire would be made of delicate materials, susceptible to damage with excessive moments, rather than prioritising comfort. As a result, one of the primary duties of Southern servants was to dress their employers with the utmost care, ensuring that no harm befell the fabrics or decorations adorning their clothing.
In contrast, the clothes of the North were sturdy but also much cruder. They were beyond unfashionable. If it were up to Michele, he would have preferred to add some more decorations. However, Northerners seemed to believe that clothes fulfilled their essential duties by simply withstanding such harsh environments.
So, unlike in the South, the ultimate objective of servants in the North was to do everything in their power to dress their masters in those thick garments, leaving no item overlooked. …To the extent that their masters were completely enveloped by their clothing and rendered invisible, even?
Michele examined his appearance in the mirror. Swathed in several layers of clothing, his frame appeared inflated, like a snowball.
Wow, this makes me look like a matryoshka. It felt rather uncomfortable to move. If he were to fall in this state, getting back up would be quite challenging, too…
“It appears you still haven’t become fully accustomed to the weather of the North, so I tried to prioritise the preservation of warmth…” As if to prove that Michele wasn’t the only one feeling the clothes were too extreme, Ain’s voice chimed in from above his head, offering excuses. Was it just him, or did Ain’s voice carry hints of laughter in it as well?
“Are there really no lighter clothes?”
“In that case…”
Ain swiftly removed Michele’s clothes, as if peeling off the layers of an onion. Although Michele felt much better after the strain on his neck lessened, a chill began to seep into his body.
“This might be better in terms of weight.”
Ain draped a cape around Michele’s shoulders. Although considerably lighter than what he wore before, it certainly didn’t fall behind in terms of warmth. Next, Ain placed a square white fur hat atop Michele’s head.
“This definitely feels more comfortable.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I like how light it is. …Of course, in terms of warmth, the clothes I had on before were the warmest, but this isn’t too shabby either.”
Michele examined his reflection in the mirror, displaying much more vigour than before. With each movement, the cream-coloured cape swayed around him, resembling a short manteau. Typically, such capes would feature gaps on either side, allowing wearers to slide their arms through to perform tasks before tucking them back inside when moving elsewhere. This ensured both arms remained covered by their clothing, guaranteeing a higher preservation of warmth. As expected from a winter country, it was an amusing attire.
“It suits you,” Ain said, his head lowered as he attended to Michele’s clothes from behind.
“R-really?” Michele’s cheeks reddened. Even if Ain was different from his servants in the South, he was way too different. Michele’s servants were masters of flattery, capable of speaking nothing but compliments for three days and three nights straight. It was a distinct trait of the South to favour ornate and flowery language, irrespective of rank. In comparison, Ain’s words couldn’t be any drier. But, for some reason…
“Okay, I’ll wear this overcoat when I meet Lord Sheleg.”
…Why? Why did his words, as fleeting and indifferent as the winter wind, stir such happiness in Michele that he found himself standing on the tip of his toes?
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind and prepare them for you.”
The multitude of garments Michele had changed in and out of lay scattered around him, resembling leaves or petals swept away by the wind. Ain gathered them in his arms, as if he were picking up dead foliage.
Only after acquiring properly fitted clothes could Michele finally explore the mansion for the first time. Of course, Ain always remained by his side. He diligently kept his promise never to leave Michele’s side again.
Though this place was nothing more than a tiny little mansion compared to Anatold Castle, Michele, who had inadvertently been confined to his room, thought of it as a very entertaining playground. Everything appeared strange and unfamiliar to him.
Just as the attire of the North and South differed from each other, every little item held their differences as well. Michele inquired about everything that caught his eye, much like a child who had just learned to speak, and each time, Ain earnestly answered his questions.
The mansion, which Michele presumed to be a sort of vacation home, had a small study attached to it. Michele dashed towards it with the enthusiasm of a pirate uncovering treasure, eagerly pulling out the numerous books that caught his attention.
However…
“Is it not to your liking?”
Unlike his initial appearance, which was full of energy, Michele was quick to lose interest.
“Books that are too long are tiresome to read. The ones in the study are filled with lengthy phrases and overly complex vocabulary, so they’re no fun at all. Plus, the stories are all so grim, just about killing people. I picked up one, thinking it was a tale of two people falling in love, but out of a thousand pages, only about thirty were about the two lovers being in love, while the remaining nine hundred seventy were about them trying to kill each other, you know?”
Back in the South, Michele would often read rhythmic poems and plays.
“Perhaps, if you read it till the very end, the last ten pages may differ…? Maybe the two lovers, who were trying to kill each other, will end up finding spiritual salvation through their prayers to God. Such is often the case in Northern tales.”
“I did consider it, but alas! From now on, I’ll just stick to reading the first thirty pages!”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Ktf klcafg clutar bo atf Rbgat jgf ibcu. Zbgfbnfg, atf Rbgat lr j qijmf ktfgf bnfg tjio atf sfjg lr vbwlcjafv ys klcafg. Pa lr obg atja gfjrbc atja la lr mjiifv atf ijcv bo atf cluta. Ktlr lr jirb kts lar ybbxr jgf rb ifcuats. Mbg atf rjxf bo bnfgmbwlcu atfrf ibcu clutar, ktfc rafqqlcu bearlvf yfmbwfr lwqbrrlyif…”
Couldn’t they just overcome the long nights by sleeping longer? Michele tried to think of a method to overcome the long nights. However, if the Northerners, who had spent their entire lives in this place, concluded that thick and difficult books were the answer, then so be it.
“Alright, then. Ain, if it’s alright with you, find me a book that’ll teach me more about the North. …The shorter the better.”
“Can someone like me truly find a book that will cater to Sir Anatold’s taste?”
“If not, you can just teach me by word of mouth, like you’ve been doing up until now. No, actually, that might be better…” Michele ordered as he struggled to hand the large book over to Ain. Not only was it hardcover, the book was also half as big as the table, and even the paper used for its pages felt weighty, bringing it closer to a murder weapon than an actual book. It made it seem as though, on the off chance the book were to accidentally fall from a high space and onto someone, it may even break their bones.
Unlike Michele, Ain effortlessly grabbed the book with one hand. His arm was long and sturdy. Michele could almost feel the way his muscles moved, concealed beneath his shabby attire, as if it were his own body, even though it wasn’t. No, more importantly, it wasn’t as though he possessed eyes that were all-seeing, so there was no way he could discern the parts covered up by Ain’s clothes. It was merely a product of his imagination. He was just reminiscing about Ain’s bare body and superimposing those memories onto his present movements…
“Sir Anatold?”
“Y-yeah?!”
Michele was startled as Ain’s face suddenly came into close proximity with his own, causing him to jump back.
“You look tired. Could it be because your radius of action has increased recently?”
Michele shook his head. “…No. It’s just because the book is boring.”
He didn’t dare say he was imagining the naked body of a man, so Michele futilely diverted the conversation to an entirely unrelated topic.
“Very well, I’ll personally instruct Sir Anatold until I come across a book that will be able to catch your interest.”
Ain seemed to buy his excuse, perhaps because he was unable to read Michele’s true thoughts.
“Okay. Please do so.”
It was far more practical to learn from his faithful servant than to spend the entire night scouring through a text as long as a skein of thread in hopes of finding a passage that would appeal to Lord Sheleg. Besides, Ain was generous enough to teach Michele anything he was curious about. There was a mountain of difference between the superficial knowledge of the “North” he had hurriedly learned from his tutor prior to his arrival and the “North” that Ain had taught him.
“Although Sir Anatold might find it regrettable to have to come to this mansion instead of proceeding directly to Sheleg Castle, it is, in fact, a common event in the North.”
—For instance, the information he was given upon expressing a pessimistic outlook on his situation, having been unable to directly enter Sheleg Castle.
“In the North, it’s customary for adult men and women who are about to marry to spend about a month alone together in a remote place far from the public eye. In more serious cases, they may even spend up to half a year there.”
“How come?”
It was late into the night. Ain, in the midst of preparing the bed before extinguishing the lamp, suddenly began to speak. Michele, who had been lying on the bed, found himself sitting up without even realising it. It was his first time hearing this.
“As I’ve mentioned before, Northerners have a liberal perspective on premarital relationships. So, before getting married, they have to see for themselves whether the other party is someone they can share the bed with for the rest of their lives.”
“F-for such a…!”
Such a reason… Michele stammered, not knowing how to react. If such a thing were to happen in the South, it would be difficult for the individuals involved, regardless of man or woman, to escape the countless rumours and finger pointing they would face.
“If, during this process, they judge that they are not a good fit, the marriage will be annulled. Even if it’s a marriage desired by the family rather than the individual themselves, and even if it’s a marriage that has long been in the making.”
“…Really?”
“Yes. The reason for this is because, if they discover they are incompatible during that period, it is easy for events such as the husband betraying the wife or the wife betraying the husband to occur after marriage. It’s for the sake of nipping the buds of such a tragedy beforehand.”
Ain proceeded to share a few more anecdotes related to the topic. Michele listened attentively, his body turned towards Ain. Even the thousand-page book he had read wasn’t this interesting.
“In that case… even if Lord Sheleg doesn’t like me, does that mean that there’s no helping it since we’d already be married by then? Because he’s not here right now?”
“There’s no way my master would dislike you, Sir Anatold.”
“…You never know!”
Ain looked at Michele, as if finding it a little unexpected.
“You… never know,” Michele repeated the same words, but with less energy this time. Ain wore a faint smile on his face.
“Yes, regardless of how much my master might end up hating Sir Anatold after marriage, he will not be able to kick you out. Of course, the same goes for you, too, but…”
“There’s no need to even think about that! I’d never do something like that!”
“…Is that so?”
Upon hearing that one may never drive away their spouse after the wedding was securely held, colour returned to Michele’s face. It was good news to Michele, who just needed to win Lord Sheleg’s affections, no matter what.
“So, please don’t worry. The fact that my master won’t be coming for an entire month is circumstantial evidence that he has no intention of driving Sir Anatold away first.”
“Okay.”
Ain smoothed out the dishevelled bedsheet.
“To further explain the one-month grace period, there is one exception.”
“An exception?”
“Just now, I mentioned that if the couple doesn’t want each other even after spending a month together, they could dissolve the engagement.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“…However, there are times when both parties have to marry no matter what, even if one of them is unwilling.”
“And when is that?”
A situation where they had to marry, even if they didn’t want to. Michele, who was fearful of the possibility of being cast aside by Lord Sheleg, felt his heart pound.
“In cases where they are with child.”
“Ah…!” Michele exclaimed.
“…I tried to skirt around the subject, but in the end, I must confess, it’s a tradition stemming from predatory marriages. While such violence is almost unheard of now, hundreds of years ago, individuals would resort to plundering and coercion for marriage, using children as an excuse. This is likely the reason why a Southerner like Sir Anatold was left in the dark about such a custom until now,” Ain added, admitting a disgrace of the North. He seemed to think that a foreigner like Michele would be disgusted by such a thing.
However, what Michele felt was different.
“…? Then, couldn’t they just separate and claim the child as one of their bastards?”
The reason for Michele’s furrowed brows was his scepticism.
Bastard children. They weren’t considered uncommon in the South. As long as there was a proper, legitimate heir in the family, the South was more or less accepting of each other’s illegitimate children. Of course, that didn’t mean that the personal feelings between the married couple would be completely sorted out, but… If either the husband or the wife possessed an individual fortune, they could pass down enough money for the bastard child not to starve to death.
“There is no such thing as a bastard child in the North,” Ain firmly said. “The cruel God of the North would never forgive a child born outside of wedlock.”
Ain’s words were like a sharp knife aiming to slice the notion, mentioning only what was necessary. Of course, the South, unforgiving of premarital relationships, didn’t forgive children born from those unmarried either. However, they weren’t nearly as cruel in such respects.
“Based on what you’re saying, it sounds like Northerners are forced into marriage because of children.”
Then, they could’ve just shared the bed after getting married. This was a problem caused by their having a relationship before marriage. While the North may have its own complex circumstances, Michele, who was from the South, had a simple perspective on the matter.
The situation that Ain had described would’ve never occurred in the South to begin with, but if such a tragedy really did occur, the child would’ve likely been considered one of their bastards. …If someone were to find out about these thoughts of his, the entire South might be branded a nest of demons by Northerners, wouldn’t it?
He had heard that, in the case of unmarried women, they would raise the child alone. However, in such cases, remarriage was out of the question. Because one must remain pure “before marriage.” Nonetheless, such occurrences were exceedingly rare. For instance, Michele had never heard of such a shameful and terrifying scandal in noble society before, not even once. If they were a well-principled person in the first place, they would have never done such things before marriage.
‘…But I ended up doing just that.’
Despite being a long distance away from the South, fear and guilt clawed their way into his mind. Michele forced down his sadness and put on an awkward smile. Perhaps the reason for the infrequent exchanges between the North and South was because of their cultural gap, as different as cats and dogs.
“…That isn’t always the case,” Ain carefully said, watching as Michele fell into deep thought. “There’s a way to reverse things if they don’t want to get married after conceiving a child. The North is quite lenient in that regard.”
A subtle smile crept across Ain’s face.
“What’s the method?”
“Well…”
Michele had asked the question out of genuine curiosity, but Ain furtively avoided answering.
“Since both Sir Anatold and my master are men, such a situation won’t happen. Furthermore, it would put me in a difficult position if you were to secretly use the method I teach you later on.”
“You don’t seriously believe that just because I’m from the South, I would go around having illegitimate children, do you?”
“Of course not.”
However, the darkness in Ain’s eyes still remained.
“That would never happen!” Michele confidently yelled. He didn’t like the fact that Ain was doubting him.
“Though you may say that, you do seem rather lenient towards illegitimate children.”
“What?!”
Michele felt a surge of anger, feeling like he was already being treated as a troublesome man.
In the end, Michele couldn’t contain himself and blurted out, “Agh… Yeah, it doesn’t matter to me!”
“…Pardon?” Ain asked in return upon hearing the sudden and random declaration.
The nights in the North were jet-black. The only thing Michele could see in the pitch-black darkness, where even his own hand remained unseen, was Ain’s silhouette by the lamp. For some reason, his cold face looked so pale that it almost seemed white. Perhaps it was because he was caring for Michele until late into the night, or…
“I don’t care if the child my wife conceives isn’t biologically mine! Even if, under unavoidable circumstances, Lord Sheleg were to have a child with another after our marriage… I wouldn’t care…”
Thanks to Lord Sheleg, his family was able to surmount a huge crisis. Was there anything he wouldn’t do for someone to whom he owed such immense gratitude? Besides, it wasn’t a crime worthy of death in the South.
“Does it sound odd to you? But since I’m a Southerner, I can forgive that much, at least. Anyway, since both he and I are men, we won’t be able to have a child. It’d be nice to take them in as our own.”
Moreover, Michele was fond of children.
“…I doubt my master would be as forgiving in the reverse situation, though.”
Upon hearing Ain’s cold voice, Michele was given a huge shock.
“W-what are you saying! I just told you I would never do that! Just because I’m a Southerner doesn’t mean I’d take in a lover and have a bastard? Even my father didn’t do that. All four sons of the Anatold family are the rightful children of my mother and father!” Unable to contain his agitation, Michele sprang up from the bed and shouted.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah! So… don’t say that to Lord Sheleg, okay? It’s just that… I’m okay with it if it happens to me.”
Michele laid back down, pouting. Ain pulled the blanket up to Michele’s chin, tucking him in.
“Alright, I won’t say anything to my master that might be misconstrued.”
Ain’s hand patted Michele’s shoulder, lingering for a while instead of parting.
“…Okay.”
Michele turned calm again, as if he hadn’t been angry just moments prior. His anger wasn’t the only thing calmed though, and he felt a ticklish sensation in his chest, prompting him to pull the blanket right up to his nose.
“It’s late now, so please hurry and sleep.”
“Alright.”
Michele quickly closed his eyes. However, sleep didn’t come easily. Was it because Ain’s touch had withdrawn from him…?
And just how much time had passed? Michele opened his eyes without much thought. The lamp’s light had been extinguished. However, Michele, now accustomed to the darkness, could discern shapes around him. That was the reason for his discovery. Ain stood by the door, watching him, as if to check if he had fallen asleep.
“……!”
The moment his eyes locked with Ain’s blue ones, Michele hurriedly turned his back to him.
Did Ain notice that he was awake? …No, more importantly, why should a noble turn his back because of a servant? Michele hadn’t even done anything wrong, though? Michele himself couldn’t understand it.
Michele held his breath, hoping Ain would leave. In the silent room, footsteps, usually muffled by the carpet, echoed.
“Haa…”
It was only after he heard the sound of the door closing could Michele finally release his breath. His heart was still racing. All they had done was lock eyes—no, perhaps he was the only one who had engaged in that exchange… Ain’s blue eyes pierced Michele’s heart, like a dagger.
Michele’s mind drifted to the Ain who had sat by his side and told him stories. Apart from his face and hands, the only exposed part of Ain’s body was his neck. After talking for a long time, his Adam’s apple would move up and down as he gulped. When he closed his eyes, the image haunted Michele’s thoughts.
“…Ngh.”
Left alone, Michele buried his face in the pillow, biting his lip. A ticklish sensation coursed through his lower abdomen. Michele tried to ignore the warmth creeping through his lower body. It felt as though, with just a little more focus on the sensation, he would immediately go hard.
…Michele had been told that he should never try to pleasure himself. Since hearing from Ain that “such activities” were forbidden in the North, every night became torment for Michele.
He had unintentionally learned the methods to embrace a man and the concept of desire, but there was no discreet way for him to alleviate his urges. However, seeking Ain’s company whenever his body desired it was difficult and embarrassing for Michele, who had grown up in the South. Michele grabbed his hand, which kept trailing down, and tried to remain patient.
<My master would never forgive you if you take in a lover.>
The words Ain had spoken lingered in his surroundings, as if he were seated beside Michele, whispering to him.
orcinus comments:
both southerners and northerners are way too fixated on purity, whether it’s before or after marriage
a tweet I think about a lot is the one that said ain and michele live in different genres lol
Poor and innocent Michel.
Thanks for the chapter