Rensley had never experienced the chill wind since the day he was born. In the songs of poets and the books left by literati, the expression “a cold wind like a knife” sometimes appeared, but it was just ink on paper. The wind was always Rensley’s closest companion. After a vigorous sword practice, it was a refreshing touch that cooled the sweat and swept through the hair. When reading a book in a corner of the library with the window open, it was a mischievous companion, flipping the pages and escaping. It was a companion that accompanied him when wandering by the river or through the forest, running together in impromptu races.
In his youth, the wind was even more intimate. In moments of enduring mockery or scolding, it was a brother who gently wiped away tears that flowed uncontrollably. In the dark attic, trapped due to a bee sting, it was a companion that made sure he wasn’t alone. Running by the river or through the forest, it was a playmate that engaged in running races.
Always kind and gentle, the wind was warm. Faced with the unexpectedly terrifying sight of such a long-time friend, Rensley found himself crying for the first time in a long while. Not because he was sad, but purely because of the cold.
Even the tears froze, stiffening his cheeks. If it weren’t for the veil covering his face, it seemed like his entire face would have turned into a block of ice by now.
The biting cold north wind mixed with snowflakes pierced through the layers of warm clothing and thick leather cloak, reaching his skin. It made the flesh ache, reaching even the bones. The Rensley of now seemed like he could sing about the wind in more diverse ways than the poets. The cold he had learned only through words and speech. It was a pain that could drive people mad, more than blades, arrows, or whips.
“Who is it?”
If he had known this would happen, he would have stopped the people urging him to depart. He would never have agreed to arrive at this time. Now that there was only a short distance left, he thought he could arrive while the sun was still up, disregarding the hasty thoughts that said otherwise.
At the entrance gate, Rensley silently prayed as the thickly clothed gatekeeper shouted. Not one of Rensley’s attendants allowed the words to be carried away by the wind. “His Grace Gezell Jivendad welcomes his guests!”
“At this hour? What business does His Grace have in the middle of the night?”
One of the attendants took a lantern near the flag without saying a word. The gatekeeper squinted as if comparing the symbol on the flag with the official document he had.
“Oh my!”
He exclaimed and gestured as if giving an order.
A moment later, the gate of the outer wall of the castle opened. Rensley’s party was guided inside by the gatekeeper.
“No, we thought you would come tomorrow. To arrive in the middle of the night! Crossing the plains at this time!”
“We regret it too.”
“Did you come riding that? Without even a carriage?”
“That carriage was borrowed from the last inn we stayed at. It’s not even a carriage, it’s a vehicle to accompany the princess’s journey. And the one pulling it is a hardy native donkey from the north, resistant to the cold.”
“If the carriage had come off the ice road, the wheels would have been damaged, and the horse is sick, so we left it at the inn.”
“If you had informed us even at the inn, we would have gone to fetch it. We are used to this land, but the plains at night are dangerous for external guests. Please come this way. Warm yourself by the fire and thaw your frozen body.”
“I didn’t expect it to be this cold.”
Rensley swallowed his words. There was no such thing as a luxurious carriage to begin with. The gatekeepers quickly added more firewood to the fireplace and handed hot soup to the attendants. Only then did the attendants stretch like revived animals, but Rensley, who had the veil covering his entire face, couldn’t even drink a cup of water. However, just feeling the warmth of the fire was enough to enjoy the feeling of escaping from the brink of death.
There was no strength left to explain this and that. Fortunately, the gatekeepers did not delay any longer and brought the carriage inside the castle.
“You’ve suffered from a long journey.”
“It was not an easy weather for those coming from the south.”
Rensley silently lowered his head in response to the comfort offered by the people. He responded with silence, burying his face deeper into the veil. The attendants who brought him bowed instead.
“For now, I’d like to escort the princess inside. Your body must be frozen.”
“Come this way.”
The women of the castle hurriedly guided Rensley. The place he was immediately taken to was a bathroom. The deep tub, made of processed stone, was filled with steaming hot water.
The bathroom was humid, and even if it wasn’t for the hot water, the fireplace was warm. The body, which had narrowly escaped the brink of freezing to death just a while ago, quickly became accustomed to the warmth, and now even the sensation of sweating was starting to appear. Rensley breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a deep sense of security.
But only for a moment. At the words of the maid, Rensley was startled again and shivered. “I will prepare a bathing towel.”
Rensley quickly nodded and wrote on the palm of the maid’s hand.
<In Cornia, a bride about to have a wedding doesn’t speak, nor does she show her body to anyone else. I am still a person from Cornia. Please leave me alone.>
While Rensley anxiously waited for their response, the maids exchanged glances and seemed to discuss something among themselves. Fortunately, the person who appeared to be their supervisor nodded as if they had easily reached a conclusion.
“Understood. Please rest comfortably. When your bath is over, shake this string. We will come to assist you.”
Rensley looked at the string. It was connected to the wall outside the bathroom. When pulled, it seemed to ring a bell. As the maids withdrew from the bathroom, Rensley remained standing, expecting them to return or someone else to enter. However, as the surroundings became quiet and all signs disappeared completely, he slowly began to undress. First, he removed the fur hat and the veil that covered his face.
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.
“Whew….”
Contrary to the tears that flowed from the cold whip-like chill just a while ago, sweat began to emerge as if it were a lie. Rensley quickly took off his clothes. Gloves, a thick outer coat made of leather and fur, a padded coat that puffed up the sleeves to cover the shoulders, and a thick velvet dress with inflated sleeves, as well as several layers of underwear underneath.
Finally, Rensley was left with a thin pair of pants, and even that was discarded, revealing the clear lines of a young man’s body. The figure was upright, with angular shoulders, a well-formed and firm chest and abdomen, and the shape of toned muscles extending along the lightly shaded back, buttocks, and long legs. Rather than soft and plump, the words tight and slender seemed more fitting for his white body, and the male genitalia rested smoothly in the grooves.
Rensley approached the bathtub and dipped his hand into the hot water. The temperature was not just warm but rather hot. Bunches of dried herbs of unknown kinds hung on the side of the bathtub, emitting a pungent scent. In Cornia, they didn’t take a bath with hot water like this. They either used lukewarm water with fragrant oil or bathed with cold water.
However, Rensley began to immerse his naked body in the boiling water without hesitation. With each gradual immersion, a thrilling sensation, much like shivers, tickled his body and rose with each submersion. With only his head remaining above water, he submerged his entire body in the steaming water, and with his mouth slightly open, he had to let out a silent sigh.
‘Was bathing always this exhilarating?’
The sound of wind, whipping through the ears, couldn’t penetrate the bathhouse of the Duke’s residence. Rensley, obtaining the entrance, allowed the slightly overflowing water to sprinkle on the sand floor beneath the bathtub. Yet, only the sound of droplets clinging to the edges could be heard.
Rensley swirled the water with his hands. The tension that had stiffened his nerves gradually melted away with the echoing splashing sound. Submerging himself in the bathtub up to the tip of his head, he blew bubbles back to the surface. When he emerged again, his hair was soaked, revealing a smooth, white forehead beneath the golden blonde.
After thoroughly drying himself with a dry cloth, Rensley dressed again. Fortunately, the maids had prepared new clothes, sparing him from having to wear the multiple layers of undergarments and the dress soaked with snow and ice once more.
‘It seems they wear such thick clothes even inside the castle in the north.’
Luckily, the dress was designed to fasten at the chest rather than the back. Tying the strap that extended from the waist to the chest and putting on both indoor and outdoor garments, Rensley only revealed his eyes, covering the entire face with a veil. As soon as he covered his body, warmed by the hot bath, with clothes and a veil, he felt warmth returning.
The maids pulled the cords they had prepared. There was no sign of sound, but after a moment, the maids entered.
“Please come this way.”
Accompanied by those around him, Rensley walked quietly. The attendants who had escorted him seemed to have gone to rest, having fulfilled their duty of safely transporting the bride. Perhaps they were somewhere drinking. Rensley envied them.
Ah, if only he could have a glass of beer in front of the warm furnace now, it would be perfect.
He descended a long spiral staircase. Where could it lead? The stiffness began to return to his body, which had been immersed in the bath. There was no explanation, but it was evident where they were heading.
The Duke of the Northern Territory, Gezell Jivendad.
Rumors about him spread across the entire continent and beyond the sea. A giant and a mage who ruled over this desolate and vast territory. He was a lord who refused most external encounters, secluding himself in the castle, dedicated day and night to researching dark magic.
Those who claimed to have seen him described him as if he were a giant crow. Some compared him to a massive black hawk or even a wolf. Adorned in the black cloak, the emblem of the Northern Lord, his hair was as black as coal, and every part of him seemed to be engulfed in darkness, with only his eyes shining in a golden hue. It was not a sight of beauty but rather a truly eerie appearance. The people of the North, with their inclination towards savagery, emphasized the importance of lineage, suggesting that his bloodline might have been tainted with the blood of savages or demons…
“Your Grace, Princess Ivet Elbanes from Cornia has arrived.”
As the elderly servant announced, the door opened. The first thing that caught Rensley’s eyes was the red glow. The crimson light flickering as if from the mouth of hell made Rensley tense, causing him to clench his fists. However, upon closer inspection, he realized that the light was simply the glow of a large furnace illuminating the underground chamber.
Next, his eyes fell on the long black hair and the black fur lining underneath, adorned with the silver-embroidered emblem of the Northern Lord on a black cloak. The imposing figure stood firmly in front of Rensley.
“On a day like today…”
“…It is probably due to his bloodline being mixed with that of savages or demons, and therefore, he takes on such an ominous appearance…”
“At such a late hour.”
Muttering to himself in a low voice, the Duke slowly turned around. Rensley quickly lowered his head, hoping that his gestures could convey an apology for the late visit since he couldn’t speak. His heart pounded as if it would leap out of his chest. Everything matched the rumors. A mage secluded in the underground of a castle like this, conducting only magical research, a giant black beast-like figure, and golden eyes shimmering in the darkness.
In general, the underground of a castle was used for storage of food or drinks, or as a prison. The lord coming to the underground was a rare occurrence, usually reserved for executing and interrogating criminals or personally inspecting the state of food storage.
However, the underground scenery of the Duke’s castle was quite different. The surroundings were filled with the glow of a blazing hearth, tinted in a red-gold hue. Maps and drawings adorned the empty walls, and there were stone slabs covered in traces that seemed to be calculations. Could all of this be preparations for studying dark magic? Even though it was no longer cold, a shiver ran down Rensley’s spine.
While Rensley stood quietly, rolling his eyes around to observe the surroundings, a maid spoke on behalf of the Duke, following the customs of Cornia, where one couldn’t show their face or speak until the marriage ceremony. The golden eyes of the wolf faced Rensley directly as he approached.
Swearing under the name of Cornia, Rensley was not short in height. He even considered himself taller than average. However, among the people of Aldrant, he didn’t stand out much, given their generally larger build. Being advantageous in hiding his gender was a stroke of luck, but facing a man much larger than him now, Rensley felt a sense of unease. A person of this size was something he had never seen in his twenty years of life. If this man were to be placed in Celestine Square, everyone would be terrified and run away. However, for now, fear, anxiety, and restlessness were all concealed behind the veiled face. The Duke, who had approached slowly, opened his mouth with a cold and low voice, more threatening up close.
“Sorry for the inconvenience… It’s midnight, and the news reached me late.”
After a brief silence, Rensley hesitated before lifting his head. While he tried to delay the inevitable confrontation with the face, only the two eyes revealed through the veil were visible. The Duke’s expression was stern, but if his ears weren’t deceiving him, he had surely uttered the word ‘sorry.’
‘Could it be that he apologized?’
Rensley blinked at the unexpectedly polite apology. It was a bit surprising, but after all, he was a ruler of a country. Despite being located in the cold and desolate north, Aldrant was said to be more economically and politically stable than any other country on the continent. Although he might be an eccentric person, being a king in such a country, it wasn’t entirely unreasonable to assume that he adhered to certain formalities.
Rensley nodded in acknowledgment, indicating that he was fine. Following this, the man stood in a somewhat hesitant manner, then crossed in front of Rensley and headed towards the stairs.
“Please follow me.”
“…”
“I will guide you to your accommodations.”
Unable to just stay quiet, thinking that the guidance of the maids would be sufficient, Rensley hesitated, but the man with golden eyes seemed to realize something and turned back.
“Please go up first. It might be dangerous if you happen to slip your foot.”
His body wasn’t so sluggish that he would stumble and fall on the stairs. Rensley could wield a sword even on a narrow railing on the balcony, or the edge of a tower.
Still, Rensley lifted the hem of his robe slightly, expressing his gratitude, and, as the man suggested, started ascending the stairs.
However, he soon regretted not having the man follow him. The eerie and uncomfortable feeling of an unidentified beast following him from behind was something he didn’t want to experience twice.
Fortunately, after leaving the underground, the Duke took the lead again. Rensley followed him almost like a ghost, having seemingly forgotten how to breathe.
Climbing the stairs and passing through several corridors, they reached a door made of dark-colored wood. After opening it, a small anteroom greeted them, serving as an entrance to a room with a large bed in the center. Several lamps hung on the walls, illuminating the darkness, and a bright fireplace was burning.
“This is the Duke’s bedroom.”
He spoke, then furrowed his eyebrows. Covering his mouth with his hand, he fell into a brief silence.
“Since the wedding ceremony hasn’t taken place yet, using the title ‘Duchess’ might be considered improper.”
There would be no impropriety in using the title of the Duchess for someone who came for marriage. Rather, it might be considered a breach of etiquette if the Duke himself were to use the title of the Duchess.
As Rensley gestured and fumbled for words, a maid who had guided him from the bathroom quickly approached and extended her hand.
“As you say, before the wedding ceremony, there’s no need to give you the Duke’s bedroom. Any room to rest your eyes will be sufficient.”
Though the atmosphere was tense, the maid calmly conveyed Rensley’s intentions to the Duke, and Rensley couldn’t help but be impressed. In front of that fearsome giant, it was quite impressive how the servants of the Gevendad Duke’s residence handled the situation.
The man with golden eyes, who had heard the story, looked at Rensley with a cold expression. Without much reaction, he responded with a gruff tone.
“Seems like a Southern joke.”
It was genuine, but Rensley decided not to argue further.
The four sides of the large bed were adorned with tall pillars, and thick, plush, and imposing grape-colored canopy curtains hung between them. While the form itself was not much different from that in Cornia, the pillars were much higher, and the curtains appeared thicker. In Cornia, thin curtains, almost transparent, were hung on the bedposts, allowing the refreshing breeze to pass through during sleep and preventing bugs that sought to suck blood.
While Rensley admired the bed, the Duke continued his explanation.
“Between the mattress and the bed, we insert a heated stone, and under the blanket, we place a charcoal-filled warming pan, which is then removed before going to sleep. Sleeping like that, the warmth lasts until late the next morning.”
Putting heated stones into the bed? These were all methods that Rensley had never seen or heard before. The maids soon brought a red-hot charcoal and placed it in a round warming pan with a long handle. Rensley, forgetting his immediate situation, gazed with curiosity at the Duke explaining the bedding rituals.
“As you came from the South, the weather here might seem unfamiliar, but as you can see, we have made various preparations, so it won’t be too cold if you stay inside the castle.”
After finishing his explanation, the Duke remained silent, seemingly having nothing more to say. The lid of the warming pan was opened, revealing two copper pots like those used in the kitchen, arranged facing each other.
The maids placed the pan filled with hot charcoal underneath the blanket, much like spreading out wrinkles on clothes with an iron. Perhaps, it was a method to evenly distribute the heat of the charcoal throughout the bed.
“This is the chambermaid, Samlet. If you need anything, please feel free to ask. She will attend to your needs.”
Pointed out by the Duke, the woman was the middle-aged one who had conveyed Rensley’s intentions earlier. Rensley nodded, diverting his attention back to the maids who were preparing the bed.
“Well then.”
“Ah.”
Oops. Rensley quickly covered his mouth with his hand. The Duke’s farewell had caught him off guard as he was absorbed in watching the maids working.
Cold sweat threatened to break out. Rensley, still fixed on the Duke to gauge his reaction, stared at him intently. It was an involuntary response, as if his voice had come out before he could stop it.
Rensley was on edge, using his hand to cover his mouth. In the midst of observing the maids, he had been completely captivated by their activities.
The Duke’s farewell was an unexpected surprise, and Rensley almost missed it. It was a reflexive voice that came out before he could think.
His heart pounded as he kept his eyes on the Duke, unable to look away, hoping to glean some reaction. In such a life-threatening situation, unable to escape or avert his gaze, Rensley could understand perfectly what it felt like to be a mouse standing in front of a cat.
However, the first one to avert their eyes was not the mouse—or rather, Rensley—but the cat, or rather, the Duke. Perhaps he hadn’t heard, or the brief external voice didn’t make him realize it was a male voice. He turned his head quietly after facing Rensley for a moment.
The Duke showed his back and walked away. The silver embroidery on his cloak swayed heavily. The maids were too busy with their tasks to notice Rensley.
Watching the Duke’s retreating figure and then the maids who were warming the bed, Rensley eventually released his breath. The Duke’s large strides were matched by his broad shoulders, but Rensley, holding up the skirts of his dress, quickened his pace, managing to keep up.
“Do you have anything else to say?”
The Duke, who had silently approached Rensley, now regarded him with a gaze that seemed to pierce through the outer layer of his fianceé’s facade.
Rensley had not expected such a human-like conversation, especially from the Duke. The initial shocking fear had somewhat subsided. Now, he could see the Duke’s face more clearly.
The golden eyes that didn’t appear human remained unchanged, and the cold, impassive demeanor persisted. Surprisingly, his face was remarkably refined. The eyes, which seemed extraordinary when they shone, were the only feature that hinted at something otherworldly. If those eyes were closed, he might even be mistaken for an ordinary person, with finely sculpted features, thick and straight eyebrows, and a well-defined nose.
Rensley could sense a certain courtesy from the man, whom he considered his fiancée, emanating through despite the veil. However, what if the person behind the veil was revealed to be a man? How frightening would those gold eyes, which were currently gleaming with restrained anger, become?
If faced with a cruel fate like execution or torture as a punishment for deceiving the Duke, Rensley might prefer a merciful decision. Whether used as a sacrifice for dark magic research, brutally tortured, or reduced to a slave, it might be better to choose death when such dire circumstances arose.
Whatever harsh judgment the Duke might pass, there was no need for political concerns in Aldrant. No matter what situation Rensley found himself in, Cornia would turn a blind eye, offering no help, not even a hint of assistance.
As Rensley hesitated, the Duke, with an air of slight curiosity, extended his hand again, as if recalling the maid’s actions earlier. Rensley, after a brief pause, slowly raised his hand, and the Duke, without uttering a word, offered his palm. Despite its size corresponding to his stature, the Duke’s hand retained an aristocratic elegance.
Contrastingly, Rensley’s hand, roughened by menial tasks and martial training, felt coarser. The maids may not have discerned it, but someone with hands like his might recognize that those fingers did not belong to a princess.
Hesitation crept into Rensley’s mind, but the Duke’s hand was already there. Rensley traced words on the offered palm with his fingers, leaving a fleeting touch without leaving a visible mark.
<Thank you.>
As unpredictable as the future, tonight’s warm bed might be the last luxury he would ever enjoy in his life. Even if it became the last, the one to resent would not be the Duke, who guided him to the chamber of the Duchess tonight, but the people of Cornia, who abandoned him for the political expediency of the Aldrant royal family. He had to remember that.
<I will not forget your kindness tonight.>
After retracting his fingers, the Duke, who had momentarily extended his palm, lowered it. The room, warmed by the wall-mounted lamp, was gradually becoming cozier, and as a result, the Duke’s eyes, which had seemed icy, appeared to have a slight flush, resembling a touch of color returning to his face.
“Rest.”
The Duke spoke only those words, and without any further acknowledgment, he left the room. Rensley also returned to the bed.
Meanwhile, it seemed that the preparations were complete as the maids were pulling the warm stone basin out from under the blanket.
“Princess, you may now go to sleep. We will postpone helping you change into your nightclothes until after the ceremony, shall we?”
Rensley nodded in response to the maid’s words. He scanned each of their faces, silently expressing gratitude in his heart.
‘Thank you all. Thanks to you, I’m spending the night in this luxurious bed, something I’ve never experienced in my entire life.’
“The water for washing your face in the morning is in the jar next to the fireplace. Once you’re ready, pull the rope by the bed, and we will come to assist you, just like in the bathing chamber.”
With a farewell from the maids, they exited the room, and as the large, sturdy door closed, the bedroom fell silent. The occasional crackling sound of burning logs and the distant cries of animals intermittently punctuated the quietness.
Although the nightwear was designed for women, it was long and spacious enough for Rensley to wear comfortably. The sensation of smooth muslin against his bare skin made him feel as if the room itself was welcoming him.
Slipping into the bed, Rensley found himself sighing as if afflicted by an ailment. The warmth, different from the sensation of immersing oneself in a hot bath, enveloped his entire body with a gentle, rich warmth. Enjoying a comfort he had never known in perpetually warm Cornia, he slowly wriggled his arms and legs under the blanket, savoring the plush warmth.
‘This must be the happiness one can feel only just before freezing to death.’
Though Rensley had harbored doubts about sleeping well in such a troubling situation, his body, weary from the long and cold journey, quickly surrendered to the soft embrace, and he found himself on the verge of unconsciousness.
“Don’t fall asleep too deeply. You need to wake up early. You must get up before anyone else does. You have to get dressed, hide your appearance, and be ready, just in case…,” he murmured to himself.
Despite thinking of it as only a moment before he reached the brink of freezing, he recalled little about the chilly situations he had faced during his journey. After contemplating the dire circumstances, he let out a slow breath, attempting to release the worries that had burdened him.
It shouldn’t be too deep a sleep. He needed to wake up early. If he happened to be asleep while someone else entered the room, that would not be good. He must wake up earlier than anyone else, don his attire, and conceal his presence…
Having rarely experienced the cold in Cornia, the only memories that came to mind were getting too cold while playing in the valley water. He recalled lying on the sun-warmed dry rocks, and the chill would quickly vanish.
The cold and warmth of Aldrant seemed persistent on both ends. Thinking that the night here might be similar, Rensley, overwhelmed by the journey’s length and harshness, felt his body relaxing, melting away like cheese placed on a hot grill. The room gradually quieted, and the logs in the fireplace crackled softly. The distant cries of animals sporadically echoed in the stillness.
Even if this was the last happiness he could experience before freezing to death, he was grateful for it. Succumbing to the drowsiness creeping in, Rensley closed his eyes.
Wah, looks cool. I wonder if mc was mistreated in his country? Also the writing is so nice , the description of wind at the beginning was really interesting.
Thanks for translating 🙂
thank you for your support <333
Interestingggg i love arranged marriage troupes
Shouldn’t that be Rensley, pulling the cord to call back the maids?
<blockquote>However, he soon regretted not having the man follow him</blockquote>
Judging by the following sentences, he should be regretting <em>having</em> the man following him?
Also, did the Duke lead him to his own bedroom? But then went away to sleep somewhere else?
I live in northern Europe and I’ve seen bed warmers like that in museums! Enclosed metal pans with a long handle, that you filled with hot coals.
Thank you for the translation!
Haha, okay, html tags obviously don’t work here 😅 Sorry for the resulting mess orz