Chapter 26
Stranger in the Frozen Land (1)
The North had once been land conquered by the Empire hundreds of years ago.
Now, natives and outsiders lived mixed together in uneasy coexistence, but relations with the Emperor remained poor. Migration into the North was permitted, yet leaving it for other regions was strictly forbidden by imperial decree.
The northern people insisted that while the Emperor ordered them to stop the evil dragon Quasalante, he also continued provoking the dragon himself.
They were proud people. They hated the Emperor for abandoning young Peon here and then failing to properly support him.
And because the North was so closed off, its people were territorial. At the same time, they carried a deep inferiority complex toward the central aristocracy, convinced the capital looked down on them.
The target of that resentment had become the young Grand Duchess who had been stripped of her title and cast aside.
At least Peon had the pride of being “raised” by them.
He had arrived as a child and literally grown up rolling around alongside northern soldiers, learning northern customs and traditions. He was the North’s proud son, and also their bridge into the central empire.
But the Grand Duchess who arrived in Lusenford after turning twenty was different.
To them, she was merely a refined central noblewoman who looked down on them.
“You don’t have to accept all the greetings. Don’t worry about it.”
Peon spoke clearly and firmly to the new Grand Duchess, his expression already stiff with displeasure.
Those damned stubborn fools.
Swallowing the curses hovering at the tip of his tongue, he slowed his pace slightly in case the Grand Duchess—dragging along the heavy cloak—might struggle to keep up.
The halls behind them were filled with Lusenford Castle staff, so he intentionally addressed Kaella with greater formality.
After regressing, many things had finally become visible to him.
Peon mercilessly judged himself as such a hopeless idiot that he apparently needed to die once before coming to his senses.
And the people of Lusenford were even worse.
They were seriously trying to start a power struggle by forcing the Grand Duchess—seven years younger than the Grand Duke—to stand outside in the freezing cold?
In the previous timeline, she had indeed been a discarded Grand Duchess without family backing after House Ostein collapsed.
But now?
Now she was the only daughter of the wealthy Duke of Ostein and the future Duchess herself.
So whether her background is glorious or pitiful doesn’t matter—they simply hate the Grand Duchess.
Fine.
He understood perfectly well what they were thinking.
Peon was sick of it to the point of nausea.
It had never been easy enduring these stubborn people while soothing their pride and shaping them into an elite army. At times, he knew they viewed him less as the Empress’s son and more as the North’s child—someone they themselves had raised.
Even so, he endured it all.
What other choice had he had?
But the Grand Duchess had endured it too.
Had he really failed to notice that?
No. Of course he had known.
Yet he had remained silent, indifferent, and complicit.
That made him guilty.
There was no excuse for it.
“No, this is only proper. It should be done.”
Seeing Kaella answer gently, Peon tried to remember what she had been like at first.
Before regression—when she first arrived here.
He remembered her eyes shining brightly with determination, eager to do everything well.
But this expressionless, detached murmur was unfamiliar.
“I should receive their greetings, Your Grace. If traditions and etiquette are broken because of me, you’ll be criticized.”
“For being blinded by a woman?”
Peon let out a small laugh, and Kaella flinched.
“What does criticism matter? I don’t care.”
The way he said it sounded almost practiced—as though he had heard such accusations countless times already because of Beatrice.
Kaella lowered her gaze briefly.
The dim, chilly halls of Lusenford Castle, the echoing footsteps on stone floors, the frost forming across specially made windows, and even the early-setting sun—
all of it felt familiar.
And exhausting.
Still, she had to endure.
Kaella, who was desperately searching for a way to die without bringing harm upon her father, understood that she still had duties to fulfill.
Only then could she die without shame.
It was exhausting, having to worry even about what happened after death.
Couldn’t she simply die quietly?
But House Ostein rested upon her shoulders.
So she could not.
“Still… I should greet them.”
If the Grand Duchess insisted, the Grand Duke would not stop her.
However, if it had to be done, then the Grand Duchess would receive greetings while seated in the Grand Duchess’s chair inside the audience chamber of Lusenford Castle.
And because it was cold, she remained wrapped tightly in the Grand Duke’s heavy cloak—the one he personally draped over her shoulders while repeatedly telling her not to remove it.
Beside her sat the Grand Duke himself, claiming exhaustion from the long journey while glaring sharply at everyone present.
“Congratulations sincerely on your marriage. Welcome to the North.”
The audience chamber was lit with blazing fires and bright lamps.
The wealthy daughter of House Ostein, wearing the Empress’s enormous ring, received the bows of northern nobles without emotion.
She smiled only politely.
Unlike Beatrice, she did not shine brightly.
That was the problem.
Kaella had an overwhelmingly powerful comparison standing behind her.
Beatrice—the woman who had once briefly visited Lusenford while selling even the building materials of Monde Castle.
“She’s plainer than Lady Lavalle.”
Whispers immediately spread that Kaella was less beautiful than Beatrice.
A woman’s appearance was always subject to judgment.
“She hardly smiles.”
Meaning: She must hate being here in Lusenford.
“She’s the daughter of House Ostein, isn’t she? They say they’re overflowing with gold. I doubt this place impresses her much.”
In the end, it all came down to resentment.
Her wealth.
Her status as the Emperor’s niece.
The murmurs spread thickly through the hall like poisonous fog crawling toward Kaella.
“It seems His Grace already treasures the Grand Duchess greatly.”
“Well, if Ostein were funding the military, I’d treat her well too.”
Peon watched each face whispering from the distant back rows—people who had come merely to observe the Grand Duchess.
When should he cut off those heads?
When should he remove them from this place entirely?
There were those who cursed the Emperor more loudly than anyone while secretly accepting Krain’s money behind the scenes.
Those who sold out Lusenford because they desperately wanted their children to debut in central high society.
Imperial spies planted here from the beginning.
Cowards who loudly demanded war, only to flee the moment war actually began.
Every single one of them needed to be rooted out.
Peon would raise his sharpened sword against those loudmouthed, irresponsible cowards who refused to bear any responsibility.
If he cut off their heads and laid them before Kaella—
would even a fraction of his sins be forgiven?
Of course not.
All Peon could do was protect the person beside him safely… and someday return her to Ostein.
Before the coming storm.
He had to promise her a final farewell.
Even if merely imagining it was agonizing.
Perhaps only healthy, energetic people felt rage and vengeance when seeing faces they hated again.
Returning to Lusenford Castle—the place where she had once poured out endless effort—and seeing those same old faces again only left Kaella deeply tired.
No matter how hard she tried, no matter how sincere or angry she became, some things simply could not change.
She knew that too well.
The endless contempt, dismissive comments, mocking eyes, and humiliations pouring down on her would have been enough to bring even a proud king to his knees.
So what could a Grand Duchess with no backing possibly have done?
“Your Grace the Grand Duchess, here is the menu for tonight’s congratulatory banquet. Would you like to review it?”
Even amid all this, the head maid stubbornly cornered her.
Review.
The Grand Duchess had no authority over the menu.
She could only look at it.
Tonight’s banquet would apparently feature countless traditional northern dishes.
Kaella smiled bitterly while scanning the list.
“I cannot eat Tur berries. Then I suppose I won’t be able to eat this dish called Perenko.”
At those words, the head maid—who had immediately bowed respectfully—snapped her eyes upward.
“Your Grace, however, this is Lusenford’s traditional welcoming dish and tonight’s main course. You absolutely must eat it.”
Was she in her fifties now?
Kaella could no longer clearly remember the head maid’s age.
Smiling faintly, she replied,
“I know. But I just said it harms my health.”
“Perhaps that is simply because you haven’t eaten it often enough? If you eat more, you may build immunity. One must try these things.”
Kaella quietly stared at Doris Windgood, the head maid who had always tried to “teach” the young Grand Duchess.
A northern noblewoman.
One of the many people who claimed they had personally raised Peon.
She overflowed with pride in Lusenford and believed it was her duty to instill northern traditions into the Grand Duchess.
“…I will inform the kitchen.”
A head maid could not openly argue after the Grand Duchess refused.
Kaella lacked both the energy and desire to respond further, so she merely looked at her silently.
Startled, Doris stepped back.
But Kaella knew perfectly well that “informing the kitchen” did not mean the menu would be changed.
The woman was monstrously stubborn.
This isn’t bad.
With all the northern nobles gathered tonight to celebrate the Grand Duke’s marriage, this situation was not bad at all.
After dismissing the head maid, Kaella looked around her new room.
Every decoration reflected the head maid’s tastes: rigid, preachy, hideous, and old-fashioned.
Everything in the room seemed to scream at her:
You must be modest and obedient!
Kaella smiled weakly before sitting in the hard chair and beginning to write what would likely become the first and last letter to her father.
The girl born in Ostein who, through diligence and cleverness alone, had risen to become an attendant to the duke’s daughter was named Marie—a painfully common name.
By some twist of fate, she had followed the young lady all the way to freezing Lusenford.
Among the three personal maids who came from Ostein, Marie was the youngest and lowest in status.
Now she stood among the servants, anxiously watching the young lady attending tonight’s banquet.
Even now, “Young Lady” or “Lady Kaella” felt more natural to Marie than “Her Grace the Grand Duchess.”
Once the daughter of House Ostein, always the daughter of House Ostein.
The only thing that might ever change was that one day she would become the Duchess of Ostein.
Marie, if you ever return to Ostein, deliver this letter to my father.
What had the young lady been thinking when she entrusted Marie, of all people, with the letter?
Throughout the entire long journey north, Grand Duke Peon had taken excellent care of the young lady.
Marie simply prayed he would return quickly.
But the Grand Duke had gone out with the knights to participate in some ceremonial lighting ritual.
Which meant the young lady had been left alone while northern nobles loudly lectured her about how historically important and delicious this dish called Perenko—or whatever strange name it had—was.
It began like this:
The young lady—no, now the Grand Duchess—hesitated upon seeing the dry, unappetizing meat dish before summoning the head maid.
“Didn’t I say I cannot eat Tur berries?”
Her Grace spoke quietly and gracefully.
Of course, neither Marie nor the other maids from Ostein had ever even seen Tur berries before, so they had no idea their lady could not eat them.
“Your Grace the Grand Duchess!”
But the head maid immediately raised her voice sharply the moment the Grand Duke was absent.
“Perenko is a traditional dish and source of pride for our Lusenford people! Yes, it is prepared with Tur berries, but can you not simply remove them before eating? Since you’ve come to Lusenford, surely you should graciously enjoy the meal we prepared with such sincerity!”
In an instant, everyone’s attention snapped toward them.
Marie nearly jumped in fright.
The knights had temporarily stepped away, leaving behind older nobles and noblewomen who now all turned to stare.
One nearby noble asked,
“What seems to be the problem? Does Perenko not interest you?”
To Marie, it was such an obvious trap question that even the Ostein maids collectively stared in alarm.
Yet strangely, the famously intelligent and wise daughter of House Ostein answered honestly.
“That isn’t it. Tur berries simply don’t agree with me.”
“But why not? They’re fruits that grow in cold climates.”
“When I eat them, my skin itches and breathing becomes a little difficult—”
Before she could even finish speaking, the loud voices throughout the banquet hall began passionately proclaiming how healthy Tur berries were.
Marie was horrified.
No matter what, how could they openly contradict the Emperor’s niece and the future Duchess of Ostein like this?
Was this not still the Krania Empire?
How could they be so rude to someone of her status?
“They’re very healthy!”
“Indeed! Eating Perenko brings peace for an entire year. It’s an important dish that prays for Lusenford’s prosperity.”
“You say it’s uncomfortable? In what way? Oh, that’s only because you aren’t used to it! Eat more! You must overcome it!”
“Yes, exactly. You overcome things by eating them, don’t you? Her Grace the Grand Duchess must first learn courage after arriving in Lusenford!”
“Eat! Please, eat! Slowly finish one plate, and before you know it, you’ll be able to eat baskets full of Tur berries. Isn’t that right?”
“Exactly. Doctors only say people shouldn’t eat certain foods because they want to sell medicine.”
The hall exploded into noisy lectures disguised as encouragement.
It felt as though disaster would strike if she refused to eat.
The maids from Ostein stood frozen in shock.
This was unbelievably disrespectful toward their lady!
The northern people were huge, loud, and overwhelming. Tiny, delicate Kaella looked as though she might be crushed beneath them.
No—in Marie’s eyes, she already was being crushed.
Her face had gone pale and expressionless.
Even more terrifying was what happened after the nobles finally fell silent.
The head maid spoke like a judge delivering a verdict.
“Please do not reject our sincerity, Your Grace the Grand Duchess. It would deeply wound us. After all, you are becoming one of Lusenford’s people now, are you not?”
What kind of insanity is this?
Cecile—the senior-most maid from Ostein—immediately tried to step forward, but the young lady stopped her with a subtle gesture beneath the table.
Marie could only pray for the Grand Duke to return quickly.
“I am one of Lusenford’s people. I would simply prefer not to suffer terribly after eating. That would be embarrassing.”
The Grand Duchess pulled the corners of her pale lips upward into a smile.
The three maids, forbidden to interfere, did not find it amusing at all.
But loud laughter exploded around the room.
“How bad could it possibly be? If you’re from Lusenford now, surely you’ll bravely endure it!”
“Exactly! Could a mere stomachache possibly be stronger than Lusenford’s cold?”
“And even if it’s embarrassing, we’ll pretend not to notice!”
Lusenford. Lusenford. Lusenford.
The word echoed endlessly until Kaella’s ears rang.
Knowing full well these people were especially loud, Kaella slowly lifted her fork.
She cut into the dry meat soaked with pickled Tur berries and juice and placed it into her mouth.
“How is it? It’s fine, isn’t it? You were frightened for nothing.”
“One becomes braver after arriving in Lusenford! Perhaps things were difficult in the South!”
The Ostein maids could not even speak at the horrifying spectacle before them.
Expressionless, Kaella slowly chewed the tasteless meat.
During her first marriage, she had noticed almost immediately something was wrong after only a few bites and had never touched the dish again.
Yet even over this single annual dish—one cooked in absurd quantities despite most of it going uneaten—the Grand Duchess had become thoroughly hated.
Even though she explained repeatedly that eating it made her throat burn and breathing difficult, everyone only became more enraged.
That weak and cowardly southern woman dares look down on Lusenford.
Thinking back on it now, perhaps she should simply have eaten everything and died here at the table.
What foolish dreams had she been chasing?
The ridiculous thought that God had pitied her enough to grant her another life—
laughable.
Nothing here had changed.
And she remained nothing more than a young Grand Duchess.
No matter how desperately she tried, the head maid and kitchen staff always looked at her with terrifying eyes.
The young Grand Duchess, struggling merely to adapt, had no adults to turn to for help and suffered through unfamiliar hardships alone.
She endured and endured—
until the maids she brought from Ostein began collapsing one by one from the cold.
One of them eventually died from fever.
Only then had Kaella regretted everything.
She should have sent them back home at least.
But now…
perhaps this time she actually could.
