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MILWTG 74

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~Chapter – 74~



It felt unfair.

Why did you stay behind there alone?
Why did you keep refusing when I asked you to come on that trip with me?
What are you doing now, facing my death?
Have you been set free?

Sometimes the questions burst out so violently, it was hard to endure them.

But Da‑in was no longer here.

It was time to give up and adapt to this world.

Night had deepened.

Standing before the knights’ barracks with Ethan, Riden smiled softly as she watched the rowdy chatter inside.

Though it was late, the lights in the quarters still glowed bright.
After spending so much time together, they clearly had plenty to talk about.

“Remember when this guy took the lead and then fell off his horse, rolling in the mud?”

“Of course. I almost fell too, watching from behind.”

Two knights laughed with beer foam clinging to their lips, while the one across from them blushed furiously.

“The horse had a fit out of nowhere! Who wouldn’t fall in that situation? Anyone would’ve!”

“Excuses, excuses. Just drink, before you embarrass yourself more in front of the lady.”

At that, all eyes turned toward Riden, who had been listening quietly.

Unable to think of a proper reply, she raised her glass.

“When you’re embarrassed, you get drunk. Shall we?”

“L‑lady!”

The knights roared with laughter.

But Riden’s smile suddenly froze.

Why isn’t he back yet?

Ethan had left her here, saying he’d step away for a moment. But he still hadn’t returned.

Anxiety prickled through her. She lifted her eyes to the sky—
a sleek, perfect full moon shone alone in the pitch‑black heavens.

Just then, a knight approached with a grave expression.

“His Grace… tonight as well.”

The gloom on his face spread to the others like a plague.

“Even under the full moon, he looked fine for once, so I wondered… but in the end…”

“Hey.”

The knight speaking out of turn shut his mouth.
The men exchanged uneasy glances, clearly trying to hush the subject in front of her.

Are they saying Ethan is… sick?

But he’d been fine just moments ago.

Riden grabbed the knight who had spoken.

“What do you mean? Where is His Grace?”

“Ah, well, it’s just…”

He faltered, glancing nervously at his comrades.
Ethan’s condition was a closely guarded secret, and they assumed Riden knew nothing.

“It’s nothing serious. His Grace just felt a bit tired and retired early. Please don’t worry, my lady.”

They clearly had no intention of telling her more.
And knowing why they kept it hidden, she didn’t want to press them.

Instead, she went straight to Merrick.

By his expression, he had only just heard the news himself.

“My lord!”

“My lady…”

“What’s going on? He was fine just a little while ago.”

Merrick bit his lip, struggling over how to answer.

“I thought he’d be all right this time, with you by his side the whole while. And he seemed to be. But… apparently not. It just came later than usual.”

“What do we do then?”

Merrick sighed heavily.

“By morning, Ethan will be perfectly fine again, as if nothing happened. But until then, he can be dangerous to those around him. That’s why he’ll spend the night alone.”

Just like that first day they met.
Afraid of hurting others, he had borne the pain in solitude in the forest.

“Where did he go?”

“My lady, it’s best to leave him be for now. For your safety too.”

Riden met Merrick’s worried eyes, then spoke firmly.

“If I stay near him, won’t it ease things even a little? Where is he now?”

Merrick’s gentle gaze trembled for a long moment, wordless.

On a hill, a windmill stood.

Riden tied her horse to the nearest tree and began climbing the slope.

“Haa… haa…”

It was only a small hill, yet she was breathless at the top.
She looked up at the two‑story windmill: a millhouse below, machinery above.

He must be inside.

Just as she reached for the door, something familiar caught her eye.
In the grass lay the end of Ethan’s sword scabbard.

Silently, she pulled her hand back from the door.
Stepping carefully through the damp grass, she circled to the far side of the windmill.

“Your Grace?”

He sat with his back against the wall, head tilted skyward.
His gaze wavered faintly as it met hers.

“What, did you hang a bell around my neck without me noticing?”

A bell beneath that handsome face—it would suit him far too well.

“Should I?”

He gave a short laugh.

“What kind of ability do you have? How’d you know I was here?”

“Well—”

Wet grass made no sound, yet he had sensed her approach.

“Don’t come closer.”

“….”

“Stay away.”

The look in his eyes said clearly: Enter this circle, and I won’t be able to stop myself.

So Riden showed her open palms and took a step back.

“See? I moved away. So please, don’t be angry.”

“For some reason, it’s gotten worse suddenly. So don’t take it lightly—don’t think you can just walk right up. It’s not safe.”

She moved instead to circle around, stopping in front of him.

“I’ll stay here. Is this distance all right?”

He shook his head.

“Far from enough. Go down the hill. No—return to the manor. I’ll come back once it’s morning. Just leave me.”

But she replied evenly, without flinching.

“I don’t want to.”

“…Haa.”

“I came all the way up here on a horse I barely know how to ride. You want me to leave without gaining anything? Not happening.”

“….”

“I’ll just stay here. I won’t come closer.”

Ethan didn’t answer. Instead, he clenched a fistful of grass, veins bulging along his hand.

How much can I really help him?

Last time, he had at least asked her to chatter.
Tonight, he said nothing—so it must be worse than before.

Still, she couldn’t bear to leave him alone.
Even if he couldn’t reply, she refused to let him writhe in pain all by himself.

“If you can answer, do. If not, it’s fine. I’ll talk enough for both of us.”

Ethan said nothing, only watching her through eyes contorted by pain.

Forcing a smile, she looked around for anything to ward off the chill.
A small brazier stood nearby.

“It really is cold tonight. I’ll light a fire.”

She busied herself, finding a pair of gloves inside the millhouse.
With flint and steel in hand, she crouched by the brazier, talking as she worked.

“Your Grace, watch this—I’ll get it lit!”

Clack!

Clack, clack, clack!

She struck hard, but no sparks flew.

“This is harder than it looks.”

Too little strength; no flame would catch.
Even in pain, Ethan turned his eyes away, frustrated.

Clack, clack, clack, clack!

“Come on, a little harder—”

Fwoosh!

“There!”

A spark leapt to the charcoal, and the dark brazier flared to life.

“See? It worked!”

Though she had spent all her strength, sweat dripping down her face, she beamed through the soot smudging her cheeks.

“You saw that, right?”

She had told him not to answer if it hurt—yet her face begged for an answer. Ethan couldn’t help but let out a short laugh.

Embarrassed, she rubbed her nose.

“Well, I’ll just praise myself then. Ugh—what’s this on me?”

“What else? Soot from the gloves.”

“Ah.”

Looking around for a handkerchief, she found none.
So she used the hem of her dress to wipe her face.

“Did I get it off? Oh—right, I asked again.”

“…More or less.”

“Really? Thanks—for letting me know. And here, use this.”

Since she had promised not to come closer, she tossed a blanket she’d brought from the millhouse toward him.

And muttered, half‑scolding:

“If you’re going to be sick alone, at least prepare properly. Planning to spend the night out here, you should’ve brought a blanket or sleeping bag.”

“….”

“Or at least worn thicker clothes.”

Ethan listened silently to the storm of nagging that came with the blanket. Then he murmured:

“So when you said you’d talk on your own, you meant nagging?”

“Of course not!”

“You came empty‑handed too, didn’t you?”

Not even a handkerchief—her face still streaked with soot.

Riden answered sheepishly.

“I rushed out without thinking.”

“….”

Ethan already knew.
Her hair disheveled from the ride, her clothes rumpled.
Her forehead damp with sweat from struggling to start the fire.

And above all—he remembered the look of deep relief on her face when she first found him.

Hearing her admit she had rushed out thoughtlessly somehow comforted him.

A quiet sense of ease filled his chest.

Ease, huh.

Was it only because the sole thing that calmed him—the closest thing to a sedative—was sitting right there?

If so, would he have felt the same if it had been anyone else, so long as they played that role?

Mother-In-Law, I Won The Game

Mother-In-Law, I Won The Game

시어머니, 제가 이긴 게임이에요
Score 6
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Artist: , Released: 2025 Native Language: Korean
Here’s a three-line summary of my past and present lives: Past life: A cheating, indecisive husband, a vicious mother-in-law, and a brother-in-law who called himself a “man of ripe charm.” Present life: The opposite of that husband, the opposite of that mother-in-law, and the opposite of that brother-in-law. Satisfied. * “You’re really lucky, huh? What kind of mother-in-law in this world lives nearby and does all the daughter-in-law’s work like a servant?” After enduring mistreatment from my in-laws and a cruel marriage, I died the day I found out my husband was cheating. But when I woke up, I was in a regret-based romance novel—as the villainess and the fiancée of the regretful male lead? If I stay like this, I’ll end up just like before—mistreated by my in-laws and husband until I get kicked out. But I had absolutely no intention of repeating my past life. This time, I plan to live a wealthy, peaceful life on my estate—no husband, no in-laws, just me and my handsome commoner lover, along with the inheritance from my parents! Step one: peacefully break off the engagement with the male lead. I was just trying my best not to offend my prospective in-laws, the most powerful family in the empire, when—“Mother.” “Did you just call me ‘Mother’?” “Ah, no, that was… I misspoke—” “You misspoke? No, you said it just right.” “…?” “Well done. It sounds lovely. From now on, call me ‘Mother.’” …Why do you like me this much? “Dain…?” And now my awful mother-in-law, brother-in-law, and cheating ex-husband from my past life…? Why are you all here?

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