Chapter 4

Isabella’s hand went slack after she finished writing the letter and dropped the pen. She pushed the letter toward the count.

“Please send this. If they wish to proceed with the marriage even after reading this letter, then please don’t stop me.” The letter contained her age, her symptoms, and the fact that her days were numbered.

“Very well.” The count accepted the letter. He placed it into an envelope and stamped it with the Helsington family seal. He was sure House Noverdic would rescind the proposal. Things had worked out in his favor. This would make it unnecessary for House Helsington to turn down the marriage proposal.

“Please keep your promise.”

Count Helsington nodded. There was no way Isabella’s wish would ever come true. Grand Duke Noverdic must have sent the marriage proposal without knowing about Isabella’s condition.

Count Helsington took out Isabella’s letter, added a note that she was cursed, and sealed it shut.

***

Isabella collapsed on her bed, but it did not envelop her body gently. The sudden impact made her body ache all over, the physical pain echoing the pain in her heart.

What have I done? She recalled the conversation with her father. It wasn’t his words that had pushed her over the edge. It was the look in his eyes, his attitude, and the stifling atmosphere in his office.

Even though she knew she was terminally ill, she still accepted House Noverdic’s marriage proposal. Otherwise, she would continue to wither away in this house. She was afraid she would lose her sanity first, that her mind would dry up from drought.

I don’t want my family to see my pathetic self in the moments leading up to death. She had no regrets about sending the letter, but fear consumed her.

What if they turn me down? The instant that thought crossed her mind, her large eyes filled with tears.

“House Noverdic...”

She wondered what the cold and desolate North would be like. What kind of person was the young lord, rumored to be a fiend? Isabella propped herself up against the headboard. The thoughts were getting to her, so she tried to think about something else.

“Noverdic, Noverdic, Noverdic...”

She closed her eyes as she whispered the unfamiliar name.

***

A frigid wind blew around Isabella. A snowy mountain stood before her, blindingly white in the sunlight. Strangely enough, the snow didn’t look cold. She shivered instinctively and reached for the shawl around her shoulders.

Huh? Strange. She felt only the thin fabric of her gown. Where was her shawl? A gust of wind mixed with snow brushed past her arm, but it didn’t sting. She should have been coughing, but she realized she didn’t actually feel the cold.

Is this a dream? It must be. It didn’t make sense that she was standing on her own two feet in the bitter wind. If this were a dream, she thought she ought to do the things she couldn’t do in real life.

Isabella reached out to feel the wind. It felt good watching the snowflakes dance around her fingertips.

“Isabella.”

Just then, someone called out and hugged her from behind, their shadow eclipsing her own. The first thing she felt was warmth, followed by the firmness of a broad chest against her back. A large man had enveloped her small frame.

Who was it? Isabella tried to turn her head, but the man only tightened his embrace. Her head was tucked under his chin, and his refreshing scent tickled her nose.

“Isabella.”

He called her name again. It was a loving but unfamiliar voice. His affectionate tone made Isabella’s heart ache.

Who are you? She tried to turn her head again, but all she could see was the tip of his chin. Are you—

“Lady Isabella! It’s time to get up!” Joanne’s sharp voice pierced through Isabella’s dream.

She forced her sleepy eyes open. If she had just turned her head a little more, she could have seen the man’s face. Why did she have to wake up now?

She lay there in a daze, lost in the lingering feeling of the dream. Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked.

“Lady Isabella,” Joanne called again, noticing that she was slow to stir. The maid’s sharp tone made her think all the more fondly of the sweet voice from the dream.

Who was that? She opened her eyes and looked at Joanne, whose lips were puckered like she had something to say.

“What is it?” Isabella asked, her voice cracking.

“The Noverdic’s people left this morning.” There was a hint of a sneer in her voice as she delivered the news. A rumor must have spread.

Was the rumor that she had accepted House Noverdic’s proposal even though she was going to die? That she had no shame?

Isabella’s head throbbed. She hoped time would pass quickly. She wanted to hear back as soon as possible, no matter what their answer was.

***

The Black Wolf Knights arrived at the entrance of the Forest of Anguish. The clattering of horse hooves at dawn had the people peeking through their shutters. At the front of the group was Whitney.

He pulled down the fur muffler under his nose and shouted, “We can’t stop! We must ride as fast as we can!”

The knights urged their horses to go faster. Their faces were grim as if they were delivering urgent news on a battlefield. It typically took about two weeks to travel from the central part of the empire to the North, but the knights made the journey in one.

The Black Wolf Knights were particularly strong, but they also used the best saddles and horseshoes the North had to offer. With one hand holding the reins, Whitney reached inside his robe for the letter from House Helsington to House Noverdic. The grand duke and his family were waiting for a response. He couldn’t stop.

They’re waiting for an answer. The knights were growing tired. Although the people of the North had monstrous stamina, sleeping only three or four hours a day was wearing them down. But they only had a little more to go.

Soon enough, they could see Noverdic Castle in the distance. Seeing the Black Wolf Knights’ flag, the gatekeeper swung the iron gates open. Black horses galloped into the castle, energized now that they knew they were home.

“Whitney!” Clara, the adorable lady of the Noverdic family, rushed out to greet him.

“Lady Clara! Were you waiting for me?” Whitney cried, suddenly overcome with emotion.

Instead of a warm greeting, Clara looked him up and down with a strange expression on her face.

Whitney coughed under her scrutinizing gaze. Hopping down from his horse, he briefly exchanged words with a servant, then he lowered his muffler. The part of his neck that hadn’t been covered by the muffler was bright red.

“Where’s Isabella? Did she say she would come?”

“Ah, about that...”

So she wasn’t waiting for me. He was disappointed. There was no way Clara would wait for him when there were only two things she loved—Isabella and demonic beasts.

“What? What’s wrong?” She nagged, unable to wait for his answer.

“I need to speak to His Grace.”

“Why? You can tell me. Father’s busy right now.”

That was a lie. Grand Duke Noverdic was drinking tea with his wife, Angela, in their bedroom.

They probably haven’t even gotten dressed yet. It wasn’t that Grand Duke Noverdic was lazy, it was just that early in the morning.

“She didn’t say much. She just passed on a letter.”

“A letter?”

Whitney fumbled around in his robe for the letter, which was steaming faintly. “Ah!” he yelped as Clara quickly snatched the letter from his hand.

“M-my lady, I’ll deliver—”

“It’s fine, I got it. I’m sure you’ve had a long journey. Go get some rest, Whitney!” Clara left him standing at the gate and dashed off toward the foyer at lightning speed.

Hiking her skirt up to her knees, exposing her undergarments, she dashed through the halls like a cat. In the blink of an eye, she arrived in front of Angela and Victor’s room. She took a couple of deep breaths, knocked twice, and opened the door without waiting for a response.

“We got a letter!”

“Clara, I thought we told you to wait for a reply after knocking. And you were running, weren’t you? We heard everything. You have to walk softly through the hallways, like a lady with grace,” Victor chided grimly.

“Really? I understand, Father. Then I’ll just go back down to the first floor and make my way back up like a lady full of grace... with this letter.”

He knew her sudden obedience was too good to be true. He couldn’t take his eyes off the letter as she waved it around.

“What is that?” Angela, who had been quietly observing their light quarrel, intervened.

“Mama! We got a response from the Helsingtons. Now, I’ll just go and make my way back like a lady—”

“Give it here!” Victor cried as he leaped up, sending his chair crashing backward.

Although Victor was a large man, he was surprisingly agile for his size. He easily closed the distance between him and Clara. His daughter wasn’t about to let him take the letter. She easily dodged Victor’s hand and ran to her mother, burrowing herself in Angela’s arms.

“Mama, here you go!” Clara held the letter out to Angela.

Victor huffed indignantly at Clara’s quick escape, and she responded by sticking out her tongue. Angela looked back and forth between them before asking,

“Do you both agree to let me read the letter first?”