IRER 03

Chapter 3 – Again, That?

‘How…?’

Was last night so unforgettable? Is that why I’m dreaming about him?

Brody blinked at the Duke of Icewall’s cold expression.

“We’re going back.”

The low, rumbling voice broke the silence and sent a chill down Brody’s arm.

‘This is real.’
That was the moment she realized.

Before she could react, the duke hoisted her up.

Brody, with her skinny frame, was slung over the tall duke’s shoulder like laundry.

‘Did he come all the way just to catch me? A mere prisoner? Why? And how?’

She briefly considered using her powers to escape again, but quickly realized she was at a disadvantage.

She had fled successfully—yet he found her again in no time.

And he hadn’t even brought an attendant. He came alone.

Brody began to reasonably suspect that he, too, might be a special ability user.

But there was little information on him; he was just a minor side character who died shortly after appearing in the novel.

So perhaps the safer bet was to play along for now—let him capture her, and escape like before.

Without a word of explanation, the duke carried her down the mountain.

Could a human really be this fast?

He darted down like a nimble deer, swift as the wind.

Being bounced around upside down made Brody’s head throb and her blood rush to her face.

‘I save your life, and this is how you repay me?!’

But facing the razor-sharp air around the Duke of Icewall, she didn’t dare say it out loud—only cursed him silently.

Not that she could exactly say, “Well, I came to kill you but didn’t, so we’re even,” anyway.

After running for about two hours, he returned to camp with Brody slung over his shoulder like a hunter returning with game.

His strategist and soldiers all stood frozen in shock.

Once at the camp, the duke finally set her down gently.

‘Really? After all that, now you’re being careful?’

Brody collapsed to the ground, unable to stay on her feet.

Her head was spinning and her stomach was queasy. She wasn’t sure what to worry about first.

Then her stomach made the decision for her—it went on strike.

She promptly threw up the sweet potatoes she had eaten earlier.

The duke looked flustered at the sight and patted her back.

But he didn’t know his own strength. Brody’s bony body wobbled with each pat, making him even more panicked.

‘So you give me the sickness and the cure, huh.’

She glared at him without meaning to, her eyes watery from vomiting.

“Call Madam Murphy!”
The duke turned to his aide, sweating bullets.

The aide gave him an amused look and nodded before stepping out.

Soon, a stout, no-nonsense woman came in—one of the ones who had helped wash Brody yesterday.

With her support, Brody was wiped down with a damp cloth and laid down on a bed.

In the duke’s personal tent, no less.

‘So he’s not planning to kill me. That must mean he needs me for something.’

Either way, she had no strength left to move a finger.

‘If he plans to kill me today, he can drag me to the execution grounds or carry me there himself. I’m not walking a single step.’

She closed her eyes, feeling the true meaning of exhaustion.

This had all started that morning.

The morning after Brody had escaped, and the duke had woken from the best sleep of his life.

“Where’s the woman?”

At his aide’s question, the Duke of Icewall—Aidan Mason—finally accepted that last night hadn’t been a dream.

“She ran away?”

“What? Escaped? But the guards never left their posts!”

“Well, she’s not here. Unless last night was a dream or someone spirited her away.”

“Your Highness, are you saying someone sneaked her out under your nose? With your keen senses? What exactly happened last night?”

The aide looked suspicious.

He quickly dismissed the idea of someone sneaking her out.

The duke usually let the women leave by morning anyway. If someone wanted her, they could’ve just waited until then. No need to go through the trouble of abducting her.

So he concluded she had escaped—and was far more shocked that the duke hadn’t noticed.

Something else also felt off.

Since entering the tent, something had been gnawing at him.

Then the duke muttered, “It’s gone.”

“Excuse me?”

“My headache, River. It’s gone.”

The aide’s eyes widened.

Now that he looked more closely, Aidan’s perpetually furrowed brow was relaxed. He looked at peace.

It was the first time the aide had ever seen him like that.

So that’s what felt strange.

“We need to find her.”

Suddenly, the duke leapt to his feet.

“You… you want to go after her?”

The aide couldn’t believe his ears.

Aidan had always treated the women with respectful distance—so much so that his staff had begun to wonder if he was even functional.

The North was in crisis, and Aidan carried a heavy burden of duty.

The aide had feared he might go mad from the stress and headaches.

‘Maybe sleeping with a woman will help,’ he had thought.

So it was the aide who had arranged, persuaded, and finally gotten the duke to allow women into his tent.

But despite agreeing—perhaps just to shut him up—Aidan had never laid a finger on any of them. He sent each one back untouched.

‘Is he uninterested? Or does he just have the patience of a saint?’

The aide had started thinking it might be healthier to just stop bringing women in altogether.

Then this happened.

“I’ll be back by tonight.”

And with that, Aidan left the tent.

“Your Highness! What about today’s plans?”

“You handle them.”

Whoosh. Like the wind, he was gone.

The aide stared after him, mouth agape.

That duke just… ditched his duties? Seriously?

He looked up at the sky, half-expecting the sun to rise from the west, then sighed and shook his head.

“You can’t keep that unknown woman by your side! Think of your safety, Your Highness!”

“You were the one who brought her in. Why the change of heart now?”

“Spending one night is one thing. But keeping her close every day? And she escaped once already! We don’t know who she is or what she wants.”

“You arranged to bring her. And I’m the one who brought her back. If she had a motive, she’d have killed me when she had the chance. Do you always suspect those who spare your life?”

“Still…”

“And either way, my headache is gone. If she caused that, we need to know how—whether she meant to or not.”

The chief aide couldn’t argue. He knew better than anyone how agonizing the duke’s headaches had been.

“Fine. But don’t mention the headaches to her. There’s no benefit. I’ll investigate her identity myself. Please be cautious.”

The duke nodded.

A small commotion stirred, and Brody slowly opened her eyes.

The unfamiliar tent ceiling greeted her.

‘Ugh…’

Her whole body ached too much to move.

She turned her head, and soon spotted a familiar face.

‘The Duke of Icewall!’

Heart pounding, she looked at him.

‘Is he angry…?’

He wore his usual scowl, as if he’d never shown her a softer face.

“You’re awake.”

“…Yes. Yes.”

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t realize that position would be so uncomfortable.”

“…”

What? Is he joking?

Brody scowled, wishing she could make him suffer the same way.

But she knew better. There was no way her scrawny self could carry this muscular man over her shoulder and run down a mountain.

Still frowning, she asked,

“Why did you bring me back?”

Having been warned not to mention the headaches, Aidan said instead,

“I wanted to drink the tea you made the other night.”

“Tea…? You mean the tea?”

Wait—he brought me back because the tea was good?

That couldn’t be it. The tea leaves were from the camp. He could just make it himself—or have someone else do it.

Or… was it the night itself that he liked?

‘Ahem… that’s… awkward.’

That would be a problem. She’d only done it thinking it was for one night.

Still, she knew better than to panic. Her goal was survival—and escape.

“Let’s eat first.”

Though he invited her, Brody remained in bed.

“No appetite?”

“…No. I can’t get up.”

Her face screamed, ‘Gee, I wonder whose fault that is.’

Looking sheepish, the duke sat on the bed. He slipped a hand behind her neck to support her and helped her sit up.

His closeness brought memories of the previous night flooding back. Her face flushed.

Either unaware or unfazed, Aidan picked up the tray from the table and brought it over.

“Given the situation, I couldn’t prepare anything fancy. I hope that’s alright.”

It was steaming soup.

The smell alone made Brody’s mouth water.

After days of mental and physical exhaustion—and throwing up everything she’d eaten yesterday—she was famished.

Maybe the weakness in her body was just hunger.

Her hands trembling, she devoured the soup.

Once she’d regained a bit of strength, she noticed Aidan staring at her.

His eyes seemed to say, ‘Now get to work.’

‘Wait, did he really bring me back to brew tea?’

Well, even with the same tea leaves, different hands can produce vastly different results.

People like Brody, who handled herbs well, were rare. Maybe he’d never tasted tea like hers.

‘Is he a tea connoisseur?’

Feeling confused, she brewed a cup with great care and brought it over.

Aidan accepted it with eager eyes.

But by that evening, his excitement turned into disappointment.

“This isn’t quite it.”

He spoke gently, but his furrowed brow made Brody nervous.

‘I brewed it the same as last time. The only difference is… the “meshu”… Wait—does he want that?!’

Meshu was a sleep aid that, in small doses, caused no harm. But still—it wasn’t ideal to drug someone on purpose.

She hesitated, but the shadows deepening across the duke’s brow made her decide quickly.

‘I’m not dying over this. He asked for it. And he did look more relaxed after that night, so…’

So she prepared it again—with the same dose of meshu.

Aidan drank it and his eyes went hazy with calm.

Then, just like last time, he started staggering around without falling asleep.

‘Ugh! Not again!’

Brody supported the unsteady Aidan, wondering what on earth to do with him now.

But this time, he dragged her along to the bed himself.

‘Wait… again?’

So it really wasn’t about the tea.

The duke, who was rumored to replace women every day, had chased down the one who escaped?

Aidan flopped onto the bed—taking Brody with him.