Chapter 53
It’s Okay
The days in the northern winter are as short as a rabbit’s tail.
Before long, night slipped in like a shameless uninvited guest, silent and unnoticed.
Just a hair’s breadth after the sun dipped behind the mountains, the world plunged into sudden darkness.
The northern party found a clearing among the trees, pushing aside the snow to make camp.
They moved with practiced ease.
Brody, at first hovering about to see if she could help, soon stepped back when the knights seemed awkward around her.
She knew nothing about camping outdoors in snowy winter nights anyway, so she figured she’d only be in the way.
Temporary tents were set up here and there, and campfires were lit.
The tents weren’t closed on all sides—one side was left open, with the campfire built in front of that opening. Clearly, it was designed so that the fire’s heat could be felt while inside.
You couldn’t build a fire inside a tent, and you couldn’t feel its warmth with all sides closed.
They also had to be on guard against wild animals like wolves, bears, or snow boars, so sentries would keep watch through the night.
At Teddy’s friendly explanation, Brody nodded.
Three or four tents were arranged in a circle around each fire.
But the knights gave an entire campfire to just Aidan and Brody—and placed it a little apart from the rest of the group.
Whether it was out of consideration for them as a couple or because of their difference in status, Brody didn’t know. Either way, it made her uneasy.
Great. Not necessary at all… actually, I wish they hadn’t.
Since last night, things between them had been awkward to the extreme.
Aidan had already been keeping a certain distance from her for a while, and after yesterday’s mistake, he stumbled even more in her presence.
If he’s the one who did something wrong, shouldn’t he at least try to talk to me? I can’t even find a way to let go of this annoyance if he won’t give me a chance.
Still, she didn’t want to be the one to reach out first.
Even if we weren’t lovers—just coworkers—if you’re sorry, you should apologize and try to reset the relationship. Hmph. Then again, this is the guy who told me working too hard would make it harder to leave in three years. Maybe he wants to use this as an excuse to treat me like a sack of rice left in the corner.
Regardless, even Brody—who usually managed to keep her composure—avoided contact as much as possible, and so their relationship froze over rapidly.
While the others finished setting up camp, Brody sat in front of the fire, pulling her fur-lined hood low over her head.
Even with the campfire right in front of her, it wasn’t enough to chase the cold from her body.
How did this compare to a Korean winter? Korea could get bitterly cold too, but she had never imagined spending the entire night camping outdoors in weather like this.
The sharp clarity that came with the cold brought back memories—no, forced them to the surface.
The coldest she had ever felt in her previous life was that day.
The day she died. The biting chill that dropped below minus fifteen degrees. The night she shivered endlessly in a locked warehouse.
The scene and emotions from that day surged in like a trauma, taking hold of her.
She shuddered at the sudden onslaught of memories of death—long, agonizing, and never to be repeated.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
Frowning, she tried to focus on the campfire in front of her.
Crackle, crackle. Flames leapt up, floated into the air, and vanished as ash. Other flames rose to take their place.
Compared to back then, at least I have a fire now. That’s something.
Watching the flames dance helped clear her head a little, but the trembling in her body refused to stop.
“Milady, are you all right?”
Teddy’s sudden voice was a welcome distraction—any interruption was a relief if it kept her from thinking about the cold.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Your lips are blue. Should I bring you another blanket?”
“That would be nice.”
“In the meantime, please have this.”
Even better, Teddy handed her a steaming bowl.
“Oh, it smells amazing.”
Brody carefully extended her stiff fingers to take it.
Teddy watched nervously, worried she might drop it, then smiled in relief when she held it steady.
“Thanks to you, we’re eating well. It’s potato soup—take your time. I’ll fetch a blanket right away.”
“Thank you, Teddy.”
His easy friendliness warmed her mood.
The heat of the soup spread slowly from her fingertips, to her throat, to her stomach, and finally to her back. With her belly full, the cold seemed a little less sharp.
She was still sipping when she sensed another presence.
Smiling, she turned—only to find a blanket held out in front of her.
“Thanks, Te—oh.”
She closed her mouth when she realized the figure holding it was much larger than Teddy.
It was Aidan.
She awkwardly finished her thanks, her voice dropping a little without meaning to.
When she reached to take the blanket, Aidan stepped closer and draped it over her shoulders himself. Without a word, he set a large water pouch—warm to the touch—in front of her. A hot water bottle.
Once he’d handed over the warming items, he sat down beside her with a neutral expression.
He wore only a light layer under his cloak, as if the cold didn’t bother him.
Guess he doesn’t feel the cold… lucky him.
Brody turned back to the fire and sipped her soup.
They were both quiet types, but quietness and awkwardness were worlds apart.
At least she had food to focus on—that was something.
She tried to eat slowly, but mealtime always had to end eventually.
The once-hot soup bowl now lay cold in her hands.
She started to stand to give it back to Teddy, but a large hand blocked her, making her drop back onto the ground.
Aidan took the bowl from her, then handed her a cup.
Now she held a mug of warm milk.
So maybe he does feel bad? Or maybe he’s just in the habit of fussing over my health.
Aidan had always been excessive in looking after her wellbeing.
For three years, no matter what, he might very well keep her safe without a scratch—that much she trusted.
But…
If she was preserved perfectly on the outside, would he even notice if inside she dried up like a dead fish’s eyes?
She let out a short sigh, staring down into the cup. His gentle gestures felt cruel tonight.
“How is it?”
The sudden question made her pause mid-sip and glance at him.
“Pardon? What is?”
But Aidan wasn’t looking at her—his gaze was fixed straight ahead.
“The cold. Has it eased a bit?”
“Oh… yes. Thanks to Teddy and… you, Your Highness.”
She was still cold, but she kept her answer brief and turned back to the fire.
Aidan, this time, only shifted his eyes to glance sideways at her.
Why did her I’m fine sound so bitter?
A faint current seemed to pass through his chest. He touched a hand to his heart without thinking.
Until now, Brody had never said she was fine when she wasn’t.
But this time was different. The truth wasn’t in her words—they were polite, perfunctory, and false.
Was she saying she wouldn’t come to him anymore? That she wouldn’t lean on him again?
The line she had drawn cut deep, and it hurt.
He clenched his right hand, feeling his heartbeat surge.
How ridiculous. I can push her away, but she can’t push me away?
It was true—he had tried to keep his distance.
But now that she was pushing back… it was harder than he thought.
In the past, she had tried to leave many times.
But that had been about finding freedom—not creating distance from him.
While with him, she had always allowed him close.
She had never feared him or felt awkward around him.
If she disliked something, she said so; if she liked it, she said so. She laughed, got angry, thought things over, hesitated, acted—all without reserve.
That’s how you were from the very start.
He sipped his milk, watching her slow, measured breathing from the corner of his eye.
Through her curls, he could see her soft brows and small, delicate nose.
Peaceful, yet somehow fragile—that look brought him back to the day they met.
Even as a prisoner, she had calmly examined him with her eyes.
He, the Grand Duke of the Ice Wall, had been startled by that gaze.
Most people, out of loyalty or fear, tried to please him—tried to show their best side.
But she had spent her time in his quarters lounging about, doing nothing in particular.
Other than making tea for him, she had no duties—but even so, most people would have tried to hover nearby, looking for ways to be useful.
Brody, on the other hand, would simply lie about after bringing tea, then doze off so soundly it was almost comical.
Like a hamster settling into hibernation.
And Aidan had never seen someone fall asleep in front of him.
He had seen people already asleep before, but the moment they sensed his presence, they would jolt upright in embarrassment.
Letting themselves drift off while he was watching? Unthinkable.
But Brody didn’t seem to care.
Quiet and unhurried, yes—but perhaps that, too, came from a boldness of character.
That she could be so relaxed in front of the Grand Duke, before whom everyone else tiptoed, was remarkable.
From the start, she had never really treated him as the Grand Duke.
She might have wanted things from “Aidan,” but not from “the Grand Duke.”
She had liked physical closeness with him (surprisingly so—even he had to admit she didn’t dislike his touch), and she had asked him to protect her from Jax—not because he was the Grand Duke, but because he was Aidan.
In fact, she had once implied she would prefer his company if he weren’t the Grand Duke.
Truly, he had never had a relationship like this before.
You might be the first and last person to treat me this way.
No one—not River, not even his own parents—had ever treated him simply as Aidan.
And now she was starting to keep her distance.
She no longer spoke to him without a reason, no longer made small talk or smiled at him for nothing.
It was nothing like when only he had been keeping his distance.
And though it hadn’t been long since it started, Aidan already felt a hollow emptiness in his chest, as if something had been carved out.
