IRER 86

Chapter 86 

 Growing Pain

Unlike the quiet village, the cemetery was densely filled with gravestones.

No, many of them were barely marked with mere stones that could hardly be called gravestones.

The village chief spoke with a grim expression.

“More than half of them have died. Half of them starved, and the other half fell in battle.”

Aedan silently pulled a bottle of liquor from the saddlebag on Kaise’s back.

There were too many graves to pass one by one, so he poured liquor in a straight line from the entrance.

Then, drawing his sword with the scabbard still on, he held it before his chest and bowed his head in silent tribute.

As Aedan paid his respects, a cold wind swept through the cemetery as if comforting the departed souls.

His hair and cloak, weighed down by sorrow, fluttered heavily in the strange breeze.

Even those who had been grumbling fell silent, eyes wide, watching the blue wind that enveloped the surroundings.

The village chief, who regained composure first, mirrored Aedan’s bow. Brody and the villagers, seeing their example, instinctively clasped their hands in respect.

The sorrowful, swirling wind gradually subsided as Aedan lifted his head.

When he turned, the rest silently followed him out of the cemetery.

A little later, Aedan spoke in a low, heavy voice.

“Has the damage assessment been completed?”

The chief replied,

“Yes, it has been organized.”

“Good. Prepare a place; I want to hear the report.”

Thus, Aedan and Brody moved with the chief toward the village hall.

Though the chief had told the villagers to disperse after the memorial, it seemed they didn’t want to escape the rare excitement of seeing a duke and duchess in person. They followed quietly at a distance.

As Aedan walked, leading Kaise, he suddenly turned his head sharply, as if a thought had struck him.

He whispered softly to Brody, keeping close.

“Ah, we should have unpacked and rested first. My apologies.”

Brody shook her head, signaling it was fine.

Though tired from the hurried ride, there was no time to feel fatigue in this atmosphere.

He felt almost guilty for letting days pass while people struggled with survival due to starvation.

It wasn’t that he had been idle; there had been reasons.

But without the leader taking action, the problems could not be resolved.

The weight of that responsibility pressed heavily on him.

And Brody—if she felt more than him, it would not have been less.

The furrow on his brow as he looked at her had deepened, probably worsened by a throbbing headache.

Then—

“Miss, miss! Is this… something to eat?”

A child, about four or five years old, had followed Brody closely.

“Why do you wear food in your hair?”

Pale and grubby, the child smiled and tugged lightly at Brody’s hair.

They were referring to the pearl ornament in Brody’s hair.

“Oh, you!”

A woman, resembling the child, quickly grabbed and hugged the child, embarrassed.

She bowed her head and said,

“I-I’m sorry, my lady. The child is still young and doesn’t understand yet…”

Brody felt embarrassed—not by the child’s boldness, but by her own overly formal attire, meant to convey dignity in this situation.

Though not extravagant by the standards of the poor northern region or the modest ducal family, her clothing looked overly fancy compared to the village.

Of course, that was only Brody’s perception.

Caleb was not insensitive; the outfit she had prepared was appropriate, in line with what people expected of ladies.

But Brody was still unfamiliar with the identity of “nobility” in this world, so she flinched preemptively.

“Ah, I see. I should have spoken humbly.”

Brody recalled the tone used by the Dowager Duchess of the McCarthy family.

“It’s alright. I am not displeased at all, so worry not.”

Phew, she thought she had answered appropriately. She gracefully helped the woman straighten up.

“Thank you, my lady, thank you!”

But the woman, still flustered, kept bowing repeatedly while holding the child, attempting to step back into the crowd.

Then, a dark shadow approached the mother and child.

The woman stumbled into the imposing figure and was shocked once more—this time even more than before.

Aedan was standing there, looking down at them.

“Your Highness…”

The woman’s voice broke as she trembled violently, and her legs gave out as she collapsed.

It was understandable. Aedan’s stature, presence, and the fear inspired by his rank as duke naturally intimidated them.

Aedan knelt slightly in front of them.

He addressed the child.

“Are you hungry?”

“….”

The child, sensing fear, timidly hid behind her mother, peeking out.

Aedan extended his hand toward the child.

Even amidst fear, the child’s curiosity sparked in her eyes.

In his hand, he held small portions of jerky.

“Here, take it.”

Aedan extended his hand again.

The child hesitated, lips trembling with the saliva already forming in anticipation.

Clutching her mother’s arm tightly, the child suddenly darted forward, snatched the jerky, and hid behind her mother again.

“Oh, you!”

The mother was once more flustered. After surviving long hunger, she wondered if the terrifying duke would kill her child today.

Yet Aedan gave them a brief, gentle smile.

It lasted barely a second, hardly noticeable.

The mother felt her heart calm slightly.

She straightened herself and spoke to the child,

“You should say, ‘Thank you, Your Highness.’”

The child hesitated, then followed her mother’s suggestion.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

A murmur spread among the villagers.

Especially the children, whose eyes now sparkled with envy.

Aedan called the surrounding children over.

With a gesture, and the villagers’ silent agreement, the children began approaching hesitantly, step by step.

Hungry and scared, they were still eager because other children had received some too.

Aedan divided the jerky precisely among them, each child receiving an equal portion—even the child who had first tugged Brody’s hair received the same amount.

It was clear he had already counted the children and intended to distribute it evenly.

The children gripped their jerky tightly, afraid it might fall, and ran back to their spots.

Ordinarily, children would have made a commotion, but before the intimidating man, they exercised remarkable restraint.

The adults warmly watched the children. The village chief bowed deeply in gratitude.

Brody realized that the jerky he had distributed was his meal for the day.

There would be children in every village they visited. She understood his intentions, but worried nonetheless.

So she brought her portion of jerky and smiled at the children.

“Come here, everyone.”

“Br-Brody.”

Aedan, flustered, whispered close to her.

But the children had already noticed Brody’s offering. Excited, they surged forward and happily received the jerky she handed out.

Aedan pouted, but Brody smiled gently at him and the villagers.

The atmosphere shifted; a positive hum replaced the earlier tension.

Finally, at the village hall, the chief sat with the duke and duchess, tearfully expressing his heartfelt admiration.

“Your Highness. I am so proud to be a northerner. Truly, you are someone worth risking one’s life for. I am awed once again!”

The chief continued his lengthy praises.

Aedan neither stopped him nor accepted the compliments with pleasure, waiting silently. Eventually, Brody intervened.

“I know of your loyalty. The duke is very pleased as well.”

“Ah, yes… Thank you for acknowledging it.”

Though he might not look pleased, Brody’s reassurance was truthful. He was happy, shy, and embarrassed—but it didn’t show to others.

“Now, as the sun is about to set, please proceed to the main topic.”

Brody summarized the situation.

The chief tilted his head.

“Will my lady also be present? A room is prepared for you to rest comfortably…”

Aedan wanted Brody to rest but could not; they were fated to stay together for the time being.

He nodded and replied,

“Wise advice. Her insight is needed, so she will listen with me.”

The chief looked impressed at Brody and began the report, finally getting started.

❖ ❖ ❖

The report continued until twilight fell.

The chief was verbose, but Aedan remained patient, expressionless.

Brody intervened wisely, cutting some parts to keep the focus on the main points, or it might have lasted all night.

But this was not the end.

Aedan went out into the village, actively helping wherever needed.

He gave tips, organized teams, or physically repaired unstable structures, such as propping up pillars to save houses.

At first, people hesitated, but seeing Aedan handle tasks reliably and silently, they eagerly began asking for help.

Brody worried but understood his heart. This was how he relieved the burden inside.

She quietly followed, riding Kaise when fatigued, while mentally noting ideas for village reconstruction to later share with Chief River.

They returned to their lodging long after the moon had passed its zenith.

In fact, this was the first time stepping into the lodging.

After seeing off the village chief and the last overly curious person at the door, Brody collapsed onto the bed.

“Are you alright, Brody?”

Aedan, surprised, rushed to her. She waved her hands to show she had not fainted.

The reliable Icewall Duke was nowhere to be seen; he sat anxiously beside her.

“Sorry. For making you work so hard.”

Leaving Brody behind was not ideal, but neglecting northern matters as a duke was also impossible.

Guilt and helplessness twisted in his heart like someone wringing it. His frown deepened unconsciously.

Brody could only smile weakly at the vivid display of his pain.

“I’m fine. I’m used to this.”

Yet Aedan frowned further.

“Please… don’t say ‘I’m fine.’”

He slipped his hand under Brody’s shoulders, lifted her light frame like a sheet of paper, and held her in his arms.