Just as Yuriella’s tears that had dampened Frost’s shoulder were drying up, the members of the Grande ducal family, summoned by Frost, all rushed into the reception room.

“Oh my! Were you so eager to see my daughter that you couldn’t even send word of your visit?”

Duke Grande entered triumphantly, making a fuss that didn’t suit his large build.

Behind him, Dolman Grande, his wife Moani, and the twin brothers Maro and Mare entered in order.

“We greet Your Highness the Grand Duke-”

Before their polite greetings could finish, Frost’s black riding boots strode forward and flew towards Dolman Grande.

– Thwack!

With several times the force of the first kick, Dolman’s body flew through the air, crashed into the reception room wall with a thud, and crumpled to the floor.

The wall trembled with a low rumble, and a large iron mace that had been hanging on a mount fell towards Dolman’s head.

“Eek!”

Dolman curled up like a pillbug, cradling his head that had just been newly bandaged from Frost’s earlier kick.

“Dolman!”

Duke Grande swiftly launched his body to catch the iron mace. If not for that, Dolman’s head would have been smashed by it.

The Duke alternated glares between the iron mace he cherished like a part of his own body and polished daily, and his eldest son trembling like a pig at the slaughterhouse, grinding his teeth.

Yuriella was honestly a bit impressed by the Duke’s nimble movements.

According to the Emperor’s informants, those pot lid-like hands of his had lost their old skills from using them only to count money from the family’s iron mines and merchant guild. But it seems the skills from his younger days, when he crushed barbarians and monsters alongside the previous Grand Duke, hadn’t completely disappeared.

“Your Highness! How could you!”

The Duke protested to Frost, his brown beard quivering.

Dolman had a dazed look on his face from the violence inflicted without a word of explanation. Moani, Maro, and Mare were also frozen stiff, their faces pale.

Frost completely ignored Duke Grande’s protests and turned to look at Yuriella, whose eyes were still red from crying, and asked:

“How many times and where did your brother hit you in this house?”

Yuriella scratched her cheek with her index finger and tilted her head.

“Well, I don’t really remember…”

“I see. Understood.”

What exactly he understood or what he planned to do about it, Yuriella didn’t have time to ask. Frost turned his body and strode purposefully towards Dolman, who was staggering to his feet and touching the bloodstained bandage.

And then.

– Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Before Dolman could dodge, Frost’s black riding boots rained down mercilessly, not sparing his head, shoulders, back, or stomach.

“Grand Duke, Your Highness!”

Duke Grande’s angry voice echoed through the reception room, but Frost didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow as he continued kicking Dolman.

It didn’t really matter how many times or where Yuriella had been hit.

Yuriella was now to become the Grand Duchess. There was a need to ingrain the lesson that she shouldn’t be hit even with flowers.

The Duke’s hand holding the iron mace trembled, his knuckles turning white.

In his mind, he had drawn the picture of swinging the iron mace at that arrogant Grand Duke several times. But the Duke didn’t dare to actually stand up and swing it.

His hands were now more accustomed to iron mine profit and loss statements and merchant guild ledgers than to the iron mace. Moreover, his opponent was the undefeated knight chosen by the holy sword Ielro.

If he swung the mace now, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, his head would fly off first, cut by the ice sword.

If by luck he managed to crack the Grand Duke’s head, he might live, but the North would collapse.

The Grand Duke was the North itself. The Grande ducal family, with all its business foundations in the North, would disappear without a trace.

But if he endured this moment, his daughter Yuriella would become the Grand Duchess and give him a grandson with the Grand Duke’s bloodline.

When the terminally ill Grand Duke died, the North would be his. And if the Grand Duke overthrew the Emperor before he died, the Empire would be his. As for the grandson with lowly maid’s blood, he could be disposed of along with his mother at an opportune time.

Having finished his calculations, Duke Grande swallowed the anger rising in his throat and hung the iron mace on the wall, bowing his head deeply with his hands clasped respectfully, as if submitting to his lord’s punishment. His knees were also wobbling from the killing intent emanating from the Ice Duke.

Frost let out a cold laugh at the Duke’s calculations, which were so obvious he had long since lost the spirit of a northern knight, and kicked Dolman again for show.

The Duchess Grande had already fainted and left the reception room supported by her daughter-in-law. Dolman’s twin younger brothers, fearing they might be next, hurriedly followed suit, pretending to be worried about their mother.

Yuriella, leaning against the window with her arms crossed, simply watched her husband-to-be unleash indiscriminate violence on Dolman.

Since being dragged to this household, the days she was hit outnumbered the days she wasn’t. And more than half of that violence was Dolman Rockhead’s doing. But somehow today, she felt a little sorry for Rockhead and thought about asking the Grand Duke to stop now.

But she held back.

A lesson etched into her bones while serving as the captain of the Imperial Knights:

When establishing military discipline, making an example of one to deter a hundred is the truth.

Stopping halfway is worse than not starting at all.

Once you start, you must beat them thoroughly so that the one doing the beating feels the sweat was worth it, and the one being beaten gains a painful lesson.

Yuriella clicked her tongue as she watched Dolman crawling away on his elbows, dragging his stomach.

Idiot. Just take the beating. The Grand Duke is carefully choosing places that won’t kill you even if hit. What if you dodge and get hit in a vital spot, tsk. As if he’d kill the ducal heir. You’re so stupid.

After Frost finished Dolman Rockhead’s reeducation and rejected the Duke’s invitation to stay for a meal, he was about to mount his horse Mars when Yuriella quickly ran down the stairs and leapt onto the black horse’s back first.

“My lady?”

Frost paused for a moment at the airy movement.

“On your way, could you drop me off at the inn in Bordin Alley? It’s been a while since I’ve seen my father.”

“Father?”

“Mm. My new father. He must be very worried.”

Yuriella glanced at the ducal family members as she made her request.

“Getting permission to go out is like plucking stars from the sky here.”

Frost’s straight eyebrows twitched as he looked at Yuriella, who was whispering her request.

“You’ve been forbidden to go out?”

“Since coming here, my last outing was when I entered Your Highness’s chambers the other day. That was the first and last.”

Frost’s blue eyes flashed as he glared at Duke Grande’s bowed head.

Seeing the Duke glaring at his daughter with squinty eyes, it was clear he would take out his anger on Yuriella by beating or starving her once Frost left.

The Duke flinched and shrugged his shoulders as he cautiously raised his head and met the icy blue eyes.

Frost’s chilling gaze was saying: Should I beat him too? No, should I just get rid of him altogether?

The Grand Duke was known to prefer smashing ill-fitting pieces and finding new ones to create a new board, rather than forcibly fitting mismatched pieces.

Seeing the Duke’s legs turn to jelly and his pupils tremble, Yuriella quickly tugged on Frost’s sleeve.

Duke Grande was absolutely not a card to be discarded on a whim. Especially if she was the reason.

“Let’s go now, Your Highness.”

The blue eyes that had been glaring at the Duke slowly turned to Yuriella.

Strawberry blonde hair, shimmering in the sunlight, cascaded out from under Frost’s shirt collar, tickling his neck.

Though it wasn’t spring, Frost gave a small cough as if flower pollen was tickling his throat.

Well. Teaching manners could be done anytime.

Frost mounted his horse vigorously. It would be terrible if the temperamental Mars threw a tantrum and tossed Yuriella off his back.

Yuriella settled comfortably in front of Frost as he adjusted the reins, leaning back and whispering softly.

“Just now, that was truly impressive strategy, Your Highness.”

Though it was a natural, fluid movement, Frost’s body stiffened. A faint floral scent wafted from the soft pink hair.

“…Strategy?”

“On the surface, it looked like you were showing affection for your future Grand Duchess by punishing on her behalf. But in reality, you were sternly warning against the greed of a vassal trying to overstep his authority.”

Yuriella’s whisper, carefully contained so as not to leak out, sent small tremors through Frost’s clothes. He could feel her warm breath through the thin fabric.

“…I did?”

“Well, not just anyone could rule this vast North. You’re really amazing!”

Yuriella exclaimed in excitement, her milk-white cheeks flushing pink. Having just made an impassioned oath of loyalty to her new lord, her face and voice were thoroughly animated.

But Frost, unable to read her mind, tilted his head in puzzlement and sheepishly rubbed his chin.

He had only corrected their behavior because he was displeased that Yuriella had been hit and worried she might be hit again.

After escaping from the Duke’s presence, Yuriella excitedly clenched her small fist and swung it, freely interpreting the Grand Duke’s inner thoughts. Like an actor, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Duke Grande! I shall take your daughter as my wife! But if you harbor treacherous ambitions using this marriage as an excuse, today it will be your head! Tomorrow, your life will pay for that sin!”

Though he hadn’t meant it that way at all, Frost could imagine what kind of expression Yuriella would have without even looking, so he just smiled silently and listened.

‘Her red eyes, holding a small burning flame, would be full of sparkling vitality.’

The burning red hair of the one who had the same red, transparent light inevitably came to mind…

Frost cast his gaze to the distant sky, as if longing for something.

The barbarians beyond the Ice Sea believe that when a warrior dies bravely in battle, they go to Valhalla, a beautiful celestial palace. Though it’s not a belief in the Empire, perhaps a knight of Solas Moretti’s caliber could claim a place in Valhalla.

Yuriella looked at Frost curiously as he silently stared at the sky, then followed his gaze and stared intently at the sky herself.

‘What is he looking at? There’s nothing in the sky?’

Just then, a yellow parrot with a red ribbon around its neck flew over, flapping its wings to follow the two of them.

– Lady Solas! You’re the best! Lord Frost! You’re awesome!

Shouting loudly the magic words that would bring tasty treats when called, the yellow parrot landed on Yuriella’s right shoulder.

– Lady Solas! You’re the best! Lady Solas! You’re the best! Lady Solas! You’re the best!

“Hey, stop that…!”

Yuriella was horrified by the yellow parrot’s fervent cheering for Solas and frantically waved her hands.

The yellow parrot fluttered up and landed on Yuriella’s left shoulder this time, begging for treats.

– Lady Solas! You’re the best! Lord Frost! You’re awesome!

Frost, who had only heard about the parrot from the butler and was seeing it for the first time, frowned deeply at the sharp claws digging into Yuriella’s delicate shoulders.

He could have easily frozen the yellow parrot solid with just a light use of his aura, but the name coming from the bird’s beak happened to be Solas’s, so he was reluctant to take action.

– Lady Solas! You’re the best! Lady Solas! You’re the best!

“Your Highness, why did you train the parrot to say such things?”

“It wasn’t me, the butler gave it as a gift-”

“Ah, it was a gift from the butler. No wonder. It seemed unlike Your Highness to give such an affectionate gift.”

“…”

Not noticing her lord’s gloomy expression, Yuriella tapped the parrot’s head lightly with her fingertip and admonished it.

“Hey, parrot. You absolutely must not call the name of a traitor. There are easily dozens of people in this street alone who hold grudges against that traitor. If you don’t want to have all your pretty feathers plucked and become roast parrot, please shut up.”

“He is not a traitor.”

Yuriella held her breath at the Grand Duke’s words that descended on her crown along with his warm breath.

“He…”

Frost was silent for a moment as if choosing his words, then let out a low sigh. Along with it came a truth he had never revealed to anyone before.

“He’s not a traitor. You shouldn’t speak of him so easily, with such words.”

Yuriella was curious about what Frost would say next. No, she was afraid to hear it and wanted to run away.

“The flame of Plama is a pure, purifying energy that burns away the filth of the world. How could a soul chosen by the Sword of Fire harm people and disrupt the world?”

“…But he did harm people. He did disrupt the world. Even this North was trampled under the hooves of the punitive force led by Solas… him. The owner of the holy sword that protects the Empire, he caused the innocent blood of imperial citizens he was supposed to protect to be spilled… If that’s not treason, what is?”

Yuriella’s voice broke and cracked at the end. Even though she had changed bodies, the scent of blood lingering in her nose remained vivid and undimmed.

Frost pulled on the reins to stop the horse and smiled bitterly.

“If you had met Captain Solas in person. If you had seen him offer his body to the teeth of monsters in place of his subordinates, his flesh being torn and bones broken… If you could have seen him digging through the dirt with his nails coming off, trying to rescue a child trapped in ruins collapsed by barbarian raids…”

The Grand Duke remembered a time that Yuriella had already forgotten, or rather, had to forget.

“The flame knight who had to leave without even a grave to lay flowers on for remembrance… You couldn’t have spoken of him so easily. He simply… didn’t meet a lord worthy of him. The one I knew was… the best knight, befitting the holy sword Plama.”

Yuriella’s eyes grew hot.

She had never sought recognition, nor thought she would be understood. Moreover, to receive that recognition, that understanding, from none other than Frost Ielheim…

Finding it difficult to contain the swirling emotions in her heart, she hung her head low and tried to steady her breathing.

– Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Arrows came flying from all directions.

Mars, with arrows lodged in his rump one after another, reared up on his hind legs with a loud neigh, and Frost embraced Yuriella, shielding her with his entire body.

Even though they must know the Grand Duke is terminally ill. It seems His Majesty the Emperor, not willing to allow even that time, has sent assassins again without fail.