SBWCM 02

Chapter 02

As the young man came into view, everyone stared at his face as if spellbound.

His lips were pressed firmly together, his gaze fixed on the coffin resting at the edge of the black velvet.

Edah also looked at him with a startled expression. His face was not even slightly different from when she had first met him five years ago.

Unlike Ivar’s pale complexion, he possessed moderately tanned skin, with jet-black hair falling over his forehead.

His golden eyes, gleaming brightly enough to emanate a sense of killing intent, felt vibrantly alive—the only thing in this gloomy funeral that did.

However, the sharply raised lines of his dense eyebrows made him look perpetually angry, even when his face wasn’t furrowed.

It imparted a harsh impression that, combined with those eyes, made one’s knees tremble at a mere glance.

Firmly closed lips, a jawline with strong, masculine contours, and a body larger than his older brother’s, reminiscent of a wild beast.

Astaldo was the husband’s younger brother and the Archduke’s sword. Always taciturn, he acted as Ivar’s blade upon command, taking on the task of killing people.

The Butcher of Wesselwolf. The Murderous Demon. Leader of the Black Wolves.

The aliases attached to him were far too numerous. Young children even whispered that he could command black wolves.

His primary work consisted of murder and slaughter: the extermination of bandits, the killing of magical beasts, and the war against Nuit, who had lusted after the Archduke’s territory and invaded.

Even Edah, locked away in her room, had heard the Archducal Castle echo with news of his repeated victories.

Astaldo was both the pride and the object of fear for the Wesselwolf Archducal House.

And now, he had returned after hearing news of his brother’s death in the middle of war.

He knelt on one knee and bowed his waist. His respectful face clearly bore a shade of mourning.

Right then, Astaldo placed what he had been holding in front of his brother’s corpse.

Only then did people realize that Astaldo had been carrying something all along—an object wrapped in red silk.

Edah felt a sudden wave of anxiety the moment she saw what he held. The red silk was stained with dark, dried blood.

He threw it down before the coffin.

“This is what my brother desired.”

With a heavy thud, the cloth unraveled as it fell.

The round object lying in the middle was a human head.

Hair streaked with sparse white, eyes rolled back, and a mouth agape in death.

Edah, overcome with shock, couldn’t even draw a breath.

For a moment, it felt as though a stench was wafting toward her.

“Gasp!”

People let out small screams. However, as he looked around, even those noises instantly vanished into silence.

“The head of the King of Nuit. I offer it to my brother.”

They were well aware of his violent and ferocious nature. Yet, people were struck completely speechless by the cruelty of bringing the head of an enemy nation’s ruler to present like a floral offering for his brother.

Edah was no different. Having seen many corpses during her wandering life, however, she did not scream unbecomingly.

Even so, she swallowed hard, gripped by fear at his actions just like everyone else.

As Astaldo stood up after offering the head to his brother, Ingrid’s wailing grew even louder.

Yet he passed by Ingrid indifferently and stopped right in front of Edah. Shortly after, he pulled off his black glove.

“Flowers.”

“……”

Edah, who had her head bowed, flinched in surprise at the tanned, bare hand extended before her eyes.

The man’s hand was large enough to almost cover Edah’s entire face, marred with pearl-white scars.

“Give me the flowers.”

Now that she thought of it, she was holding the basket of flowers for the offering. Only Ingrid and she possessed them, and since most people took flowers from Ingrid’s basket, Edah had forgotten about hers.

When Edah held out the flowers, he accepted them. His bare hand brushed against Edah’s cold hand.

Edah gasped in surprise. The briefly touching bare hand was exceedingly hot.

Reflexively, she raised her head to look at the man. Though his expression appeared dry and emotionless, for a fraction of a second, his gaze felt heated—as if filled with lust.

Startled by this, Edah pulled her hand back and bowed her head. It felt as though Astaldo’s gaze, looking down on her as if she were pathetic, was piercing right into her.

Turning his body away from the flushed Edah, he laid the flowers beside the face of his brother, who lay grotesquely dead in the coffin.

It was a quiet mourning. Yet, in a way, it was a cold mourning as well.

The onlookers stirred with a strange excitement.

Overwhelmed by shock, they hadn’t realized it at first, but bringing the head of Nuit’s King meant he had won the war.

Greed surged in the eyes of those who imagined the spoils of war and the vast lands gained.

Edah stared blankly at Astaldo’s retreating back.

Ivar’s strangely dead corpse and another corpse; cold condolences and the excitement of victory intertwined—it was a bizarre funeral.

Thus, the man returned accompanied by death and victory.

Edah was running. Her leg, injured from a fall, throbbed with pain. Pursuers were already closing in behind her.

As the five-day funeral ended and chaos ensued with the appearance of the new successor, surveillance slackened.

How hard she had tried over those five days to look for a chance to escape! Yet, because she had to maintain her place continuously during the funeral period, she hadn’t dared to attempt it.

Having finally returned to her room after all the funeral rites were completed, Edah packed her belongings immediately.

Naturally, she possessed no fine jewelry.

A tiny bit of money, food, a lira-harp with broken strings, and a rusty necklace given to her as a gift by Risonel.

Edah recalled Astaldo’s intimidating face.

The severed head, and the brief moment her eyes had met his—Edah had felt it instinctively.

That man would show no mercy whatsoever. He would look at Edah’s face with complete indifference and order her execution.

Even though a person’s life would fade away and come to an end, he would do it without a second thought. Just like the offering Astaldo had brought, her head might be severed as well.

Looking at Astaldo brought to mind the face of a wild beast devoid of emotion. She couldn’t die like this—not like this. So Edah had resolved to run away.

She knew of a small crawl hole she had spotted long ago. She was confident that if she escaped through it, she could somehow manage to survive.

Hadn’t she lived a wandering life with her mother and sister when she was young? With just an instrument to play, she wouldn’t starve to death anywhere.

Let’s slowly head back to the Mahina Duchy that way. Brother Risonel will surely take me in.

She carefully headed toward the Confinement Palace. The Confinement Palace was unrepaired, and hardly anyone was around since it was rumored to be haunted by ghosts.

Finding the crawl hole there had been pure coincidence. Though it was a hole hidden by vines and moss, she had been able to spot it.

Edah passed through the hole without much difficulty. It was small, but because she had a slender frame, she slipped through quickly.

Once clear of the castle walls, a grassy green field met her eyes. Edah took a deep breath.

As expected, leaving the heart of the royal castle didn’t immediately lead to the city area.

However, the stables and blacksmith shops essential to maintaining the castle ought to be around here.

The people here belonged to the castle, meaning the risk of being spotted still existed.

Even so, this was better than encountering the wolves that swarmed Wesselwolf.

Edah ran through the well-maintained trees, avoiding people’s sight.

She covered her dull silver hair with a hood and smeared dirt on her face, disguising herself so no one could recognize her.

Up until this point, Edah believed her escape was a success.

Before long, however, she was spotted by patrolling knights.

Her knee, already hurt from falling once during her flight, throbbed. The skirt caught on a tree branch seemed to have torn, leaving her thigh exposed to the air.

Was that all? While fleeing from them, Edah misstepped into a sunken patch of ground and fell unsightly for a second time.

She was promptly ‘escorted’ by the knights.

“Ivar really turned the royal castle into a mess. For a woman to escape the castle so easily.”

She looked at the faces of the knights bad-mouthing her husband.

They were unfamiliar faces, not the ones she usually saw around the castle.

Because they didn’t treat her roughly, they seemed to possess some humanity, yet unlike Ivar’s knights whom she had always seen, she could feel the sharp, lethal aura unique to well-trained soldiers.

Escaping from them would be impossible.

Dragged along helplessly like that, Edah almost fainted on the spot. Because as she was dragged to the castle gates, Astaldo himself was standing there waiting.

Astaldo’s figure standing with the castle gates at his back resembled the grim reaper himself.