Chapter 51
Because I Thought It Was a Dream
After finalizing the marriage vows and fulfilling their dispatched mission, the priests from Adair Gratzé Church cheerfully bid farewell and headed south.
And right after seeing the priests off, Aidan’s party also received a send-off from the fortress residents before heading north.
The fortress folk were reluctant to let them go, but they understood the duke’s busy schedule. After all, they hadn’t even been able to hold the banquet until the day after Brody woke up—and even then, it had been rushed. The fact that the duke even allowed them to hold one at all was considered fortunate.
The urgency of Aidan’s departure was partly due to work piling up, but more than that, the true reason was to put some physical distance between Brody and the imperial princess.
And so now, here they were—forcing themselves onward through a road buried under heavy snow, trudging north.
Tak, tak. Clatter, clatter.
Brody sat alone in the small carriage, watching the people outside pressing forward through the falling snow.
She had insisted she was well enough to ride a horse, but both Aidan and Teddy had flatly said it would be better for her to ride in the carriage.
Knowing her stamina wasn’t great, Brody eventually agreed—it was better than exhausting herself and becoming a burden.
So he really has no intention of letting me ride up front with him like before.
She glanced out the window at Aidan, who was guiding his horse through the snow without the slightest sign of strain.
The massive black stallion, Khaïs, stood out even more against the white snow.
Teddy was driving the carriage from the coachman’s seat, and pulling it were none other than Creambrony and Neal. Brody had worried about Creambrony after the arrow wound, but the horse was trotting energetically, as if to say “Don’t worry about me.” Thanks to the priests’ superb treatment, there wasn’t even a scar left.
Well, either way, whether he’s carrying me or pulling the carriage, it’s still hard work.
Brody let out a deep sigh.
She didn’t feel entirely comfortable being the only one riding in relative comfort.
Not that “carriage” really meant comfort—it was an unpaved road full of stones, with no shock-absorbing rubber wheels, and the cushions were awful. Still, it was far better than riding in the snow.
There were twenty knights escorting the duke and Brody, which meant twenty-two people in total enduring the cold outside.
“Teddy, aren’t you tired?”
She called through the small window connecting the carriage to the driver’s seat.
Teddy understood why she was asking and answered more cheerfully than usual.
“Tired from this? If I were, I’d be unworthy of my reputation as a northern warrior. Not at all. I’m actually glad to see snow like this again—wish it would fall even harder.”
With his face red from the cold, the words didn’t sound very convincing.
Brody thought so too, but nodded in agreement anyway.
“Snow after a long time,” huh? At least it meant the air was full of moisture. Everyone was probably hoping the drought would finally end next year.
When Teddy fussed—“It’s cold, go back inside, if you get sick I’ll get scolded”—she returned to her seat.
True to their northern warrior title, the men kept formation without faltering despite the snow.
Brody gave up worrying about them—it wasn’t something she could change anyway—and turned to look out the left window.
Why the left? She’d been looking to the right at first, but when her eyes met Aidan’s, she quickly turned away.
She hadn’t been trying to act childish, but somehow she just couldn’t bring herself to face him.
Her mind drifted back to last night—the heat in his eyes when he desired her, and then, in the next moment, the way he had suddenly pulled away, cold and distant.
Why? After putting him to sleep with the mesh leaves, she had tossed and turned on the sofa all night, trying to make sense of his behavior.
Ever since coming north, he had treated her in a businesslike manner, as if his feelings had cooled. But last night’s drunken demeanor proved otherwise—he still wanted her, in heart or body.
Yet in the end, he had pushed her away.
He must have decided to cut his feelings for me.
Frowning, she rubbed her forehead.
If she’d known, she wouldn’t have responded to his temptation last night. Regret washed over her like a storm.
No, I only did it because I thought that’s what a wedding night was supposed to be. If I’d known otherwise, I would’ve refused.
…Would she, though?
Her lips jutted out in a pout at the truth that rose unbidden from her heart.
Refuse? You never refuse him. Every time he tempts you, you give in.
Ugh, shut up! She threw a little punch at the air, embarrassed because it was so true.
What am I supposed to do when someone with that personality, that face, that body, comes on to me?
She bit her lip. Giving in to temptation was one thing—but after that…
After deciding to accept him and cling to him, he had abruptly sat up and pulled away, leaving her alone in the cold, empty air. That moment replayed in her mind over and over.
She couldn’t forget the sting of embarrassment.
Humiliating. So humiliating.
Admit it—she was hurt.
From now on, I will absolutely, absolutely not get involved again. Ever! I’ll give him no openings.
If what he wanted was to keep the “contract” intact, then she would do exactly that.
No leaning on him emotionally.
Do her utmost for the north as promised.
Then, in three years, she could leave without regrets.
But just as she was steeling herself with this resolve, she sighed again.
She realized she couldn’t keep a “halfway” distance from him—
and that was a danger sign.
So, even more reason to keep her distance.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts of him, she turned her mind to their destination.
We’re heading to that military camp. The place where I first possessed this body.
The place she’d been dragged to as a prisoner and presented before the Grand Duke of the Ice Wall—the place where it had all begun.
I wonder if the potato field is still there. And the women who tended it?
Her curiosity stirred—along with a little excitement.
Memories from the very first moment she fell into this world floated up, and she sank into thought again.
But those thoughts slowly faded into the serene rhythm of the scenery—the steady fall of snow, the clatter of the wheels.
It was peaceful to the point of boredom, broken only when she rubbed her numbed fingers.
And then, that quiet was shattered—by none other than the imperial princess.
…The princess?
For a moment Brody wondered if she’d fallen asleep.
It must be a dream—otherwise, how could the princess be sitting in her carriage right now?
Blinking slowly, she stared at the princess, who sat gracefully with a radiant air.
Since it was a dream, she allowed herself to study that beauty in detail.
She could have been a goddess—Aphrodite herself.
Luxurious golden hair, elegant brows, lashes so long they cast shadows, clear eyes, a finely sculpted nose, and healthy, full lips curved in a faint smile.
With her round forehead, soft facial contours, and smooth, dewy skin, she looked like a perfect painting.
Her serene expression suddenly blossomed into a bright smile, and her lips moved with elegant, cheerful words.
The scene was so beautiful it felt unreal.
“Fufu, you really don’t disappoint, Lady Brody. How can you not even look surprised?”
What was that supposed to mean? Was she saying she should be startled, even knowing it was a dream?
Before she could figure it out, the princess crossed over and sat beside her.
The sight was so vivid that Brody’s heartbeat quickened.
Mailla watched Brody’s eyes widen and calmly drew a crossbow from her bosom.
Aiming it forward, she said, “Be quiet. Or I’ll shoot the driver.”
Her voice was so soft and gentle that Brody still couldn’t fully register the danger.
Let’s assume this isn’t a dream—just in case.
Steeling herself, Brody looked straight at the princess.
“Princess?”
Mailla smiled, squinting one eye as if amused.
“You don’t even call me ‘Your Highness.’”
“Ah, right—Your Highness the Princess.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’d actually prefer you just call me ‘Mailla.’ I’ll call you by your name too.”
“…Mailla.”
She spoke idly, still thinking, while observing the princess closely.
The sparkling figure looked almost like a hologram.
There’s no way this world has holograms—it must be magic.
Which meant her real body wasn’t actually here.
If it were, she’d probably just take over my body instead of doing this.
Maybe because she’d first thought it was a dream—or maybe because of Mailla’s nature—Brody remained oddly calm.
She spoke again, flatly:
“Your Highness.”
Mailla lowered her brows, feigning disappointment.
“Mailla.”
Brody shook her head. Titles didn’t matter—she had no intention of getting involved with this woman, so she wouldn’t need to call her anything in the future. Instead, she asked the important question:
“You’re not really here, are you? That bow—can it actually shoot?”
Mailla’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.
Even the way she widened her eyes was a work of art.
Without meaning to, Brody found herself staring at that beauty.
Mailla seemed amused rather than offended.
“You’re very clever, Brody. Yes, that’s right—I’m not actually here.”
She smiled radiantly—golden hair cascading, dewy skin glowing, amber eyes like dripping honey.
Her voice was disarmingly sweet.
“But I can deliver objects. For example—”
Whish.
Her free hand moved, tossing something glittering toward Brody.
Brody instinctively reached out to catch it, but an odd feeling made her bat it away.
It fell into her lap.
“—just like I can send something directly to you.”
Brody glanced down.
The object had real weight and even made a dent in her skirt. It wasn’t an illusion.
What is this?
Mailla answered kindly, as if she’d been waiting.
“A teleportation magic stone. You can’t go just anywhere—the exit is fixed. It leads straight to my chambers in the imperial palace.”
Her chambers? Brody frowned at the unexpected gift.
“Why are you giving me this?”
Mailla looked wounded by her cold tone.
Her expression was so sincerely pure that Brody felt a twinge of guilt, as if she’d wronged her somehow.
“Because I’m very fond of you. Honestly, if I’d known you first, I never would have sent you to the northern camp to assassinate the Grand Duke.”
Brody’s raised eyebrow twitched upward.
