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Chapter 24
“You don’t have to walk me all the way to my room.”
“It’s still dark outside. What are you talking about?”
Tap, tap.
In the empty corridor, the sound of Russell’s cane tapping the floor echoed alongside our footsteps. I was holding onto his arm with one hand as we walked.
According to my sense of time, dawn was still far away.
If I sharpened my senses, I could easily tell the time by feel alone — the chill and dampness that only existed before sunrise told me exactly when dawn was near.
‘But more than that… our conversation never really connected.’
Even though we were walking side by side now, our talks throughout the night had been like two lines running parallel — never meeting.
We had completely different opinions about whether we should demand an apology from my sister and the duchess.
Russell believed that even if the apology wasn’t sincere, it should still be received — that reclaiming my honor mattered.
But I knew their nature too well. Forcing an apology out of them would only create more trouble.
‘Perhaps… I’ll never truly understand you.’
Again.
My chest stung.
At first, those words from Russell had sounded warm — like he’d looked deep into who I was. But now, they hurt.
‘There’s no point clashing with him. I just have to make it right somehow.’
Maybe the pain came from the thought that I’d lost his trust.
While I was mulling over how to make amends, he stopped walking and spoke.
“We’re here. Go on in.”
“Ah… thank you.”
Had the walk to my room always been this short? For some reason, I felt disappointed.
The warmth between our hands disappeared when I let go, and the door opened.
Creak.
The hinges groaned as the door closed behind me, and I suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
“…Russell?”
Someone was behind me.
Instinctively, I turned — but of course, I saw nothing. My eyes could only perceive a world of emptiness.
I tightened my grip on the handle of my cane and tapped the floor. Nothing. It struck nothing solid.
I took a cautious step back.
“Russell? What’s wrong? …You’re scaring me.”
I had clearly sensed someone enter the room, but now there was no sound, no presence.
As if I were haunted by a ghost.
I hesitated, debating whether to draw the blade hidden inside my cane — when suddenly, I remembered the rumors I’d heard before coming to Glacies Castle.
Russell had executed his fiancée.
He’d hunted bears larger than himself, and led campaigns against the northern barbarians.
I’d forgotten — he was the man behind those blood-soaked rumors.
“Ah!”
Still backing away, I tripped over the bed and fell. Just as I tried to rise, something heavy pressed against my abdomen, pinning me down.
A familiar scent of mint filled my senses.
Warm breath tickled my skin.
Something soft and damp brushed my cheek.
Lips.
Russell’s lips came close to my ear as he whispered softly:
“I owe you an apology.”
Too heavy.
It hurts… I can’t breathe.
What are you saying?
“That comment earlier — when you asked if I could even hold my liquor — it bothered me a little… I’m sorry.”
That’s a lie.
Someone else might have thought it drunken impulse, but this was Russell.
Yes, maybe he had been upset or frustrated — but the cause was something deeper.
Still, for him to play such a cruel little prank…
I was about to draw the hidden blade from my cane when he murmured again:
“Then, I’ll wish for you to dream in color tonight.”
May the Mother Wolf of the North watch over you.
With that farewell, Russell pulled away.
I gasped, my chest hollow and aching.
He truly left after saying only that — opening the door and stepping out.
A normal person would’ve said, “Good night,” or “Sweet dreams.”
But his words were about colors — colors I could never see in this life.
“So I do know what colors are, you know…”
I mumbled weakly into the empty room.
I barely slept that night.
When I sensed from the air and humidity that dawn had broken, I leapt from bed.
Bang.
As I threw open the window, a sharp chill cut across my face, clearing the remnants of sleep. Birds were already singing.
‘Asha hasn’t even gone to fetch the wash water yet.’
I chuckled faintly and picked up my cane from beside the bed, lifting it high over my head.
“So you’re saying… you ran away from the castle?”
“Yeah. Being there just made me think indecent thoughts.”
I had used the cane to scan my surroundings and found that heading straight south from the fortress led to a willow tree.
Of course, this was no ordinary tree — like everything in the North, it looked strange and unique compared to those in the capital.
“I-I don’t know much about human romance,” the tree stammered, “but I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of…”
“It’s not romance.”
“T-then what is it?”
I sat beneath the willow’s shade, resting my chin on my hand.
A tree, talking about romance — how absurd.
“I’m using him to survive. So no, this isn’t some comfortable love story.”
“But… that duke might feel differently.”
“There’s no way.”
“H-how can you be so sure?”
Bitterly, but firmly, I replied:
“Because he and I live in completely different worlds.”
Russell was a royal bastard — born into privilege in the capital.
He must have been raised with luxury and respect.
I, on the other hand, was a rat in my past life — and now I’m blind, crawling through darkness. We couldn’t be more different.
During that long night of clashing words, I realized that Russell and I had entirely different upbringings, different values.
‘We’re only bound as fiancés because we each serve a purpose.’
I buried my head between my knees.
The willow, flustered, spoke again.
“What do you mean? You both live under the same sky!”
At times like this, trees were hopeless.
No understanding of metaphors. No lies would work on them either.
Though, that was what made them strangely comforting.
I was about to reply — to tell it that wasn’t true — when the willow suddenly cried out:
“Oh, oh! Someone’s coming!”
“What? Who?”
“Um… a human male. He looks very angry!”
Who else could it be but Russell — the only man who wouldn’t be surprised to find me talking to a tree, and who’d be furious that I wasn’t with Asha?
Footsteps drew closer.
I waved my hands in panic, fumbling for an excuse.
“R-Russell! I swear I wasn’t avoiding you! I just wanted to… talk with the tree a bit, that’s all!”
What am I even saying?
I’d wanted to sew my mouth shut plenty of times before, but never so badly as now.
When no reply came, I grew uneasy — until a voice cleared its throat.
“Ahem.”
Wait… I knew that voice.
I froze, staring blankly.
“It’s me, my lady.”
“…Prater?”
Oh, damn this tree.
If there were a mouse hole nearby, I’d have crawled straight into it.
Why were all northern trees such bad luck?
“P-Prater, wh-what are you doing here?”
I tried to sound calm, but my tongue tangled. I wished I could sink into the earth itself.
Prater, looking nothing like the eccentric man from last night, was composed and polite.
“I apologize if I startled you. I just have a simple question.”
“Ah… ahem! Sure, what is it?”
Maybe last night’s outburst had just been an act. Maybe his anger had been stress, not madness.
This — the calm, courteous man before me — was surely the real Prater.
That’s what I told myself… until he spoke in his usual, level tone.
“When would you like to hold the betrothal ceremony?”
“…Huh?”
I froze like an idiot.
