The evening banquet was splendid.

The heads of noble families from the North, invited to celebrate the Grand Duke’s marriage and strengthen the unity of the North, competed to praise the cuisine of Lord Dakua, the only one among the imperial kitchen chefs to obtain a noble title.

The centerpieces decorated with colorful flowers grown in the garden and the elegantly burning candles further brightened the atmosphere of the banquet hall.

But above all else, what truly stood out today was the beautiful Grand Duchess Yuriella, the masterpiece that bloomed from the fingertips of the head maid and maids.

Clear and vivid red eyes shining brightly under delicate eyelashes.

A silky dress dyed in the same red color as those eyes, with a subtle sheen.

Flushed cheeks and flower-like red lips.

Unlike her fairy-like appearance that drew gasps from the guests at the wedding, tonight she was seductive and enchanting despite her clear and innocent impression.

The cheeks of the rough men of the North, who are often mistaken for being angry due to their blunt and inexpressive nature, seemed especially red tonight, and it wasn’t just because of the orange-tinged candlelight.

Every time the Grand Duchess burst into clear laughter, the mysterious strawberry blonde hair draped in a few strands over her slender neck shimmered and swayed against her smooth white skin.

The vassals’ mouths gaped open as they watched their lord, unable to take his eyes off and captivated by the beautiful bride’s appearance.

Some rubbed their eyes in disbelief with the back of their hands. Some dropped their forks in surprise. Some struggled to swallow tears of joy.

Though their reactions varied, they all felt the same emotion. My goodness. Our lord has finally embraced a bright flame that melts the eternal ice and snow in his heart.

The servants of the Grand Duke felt their hearts swell with pride as they watched their reactions. It was a moment when they felt the reward for tormenting the Grand Duchess, waking her up from dawn when she could barely open her eyes.

Surprisingly, the loudest voice among them came not from the head maid Rosalinne, but from Sandra, the Grand Duchess’s new maid – the black mage Cassandra Cabeza hiding her true form with an illusion spell.

While helping the head maid ensure the banquet ran smoothly by directing the maids and servants, Sandra kept glancing back at her mistress’s unsettling expression.

Why? Despite smiling so brightly, the Duchess’s face was full of dark clouds. And they were dark clouds heavy with sorrowful tears…

Who could be the culprit? Sandra’s fierce eyes shot sharply towards Frost.

After all, 9 out of 10 tears shed by a married woman are due to her husband’s fault.

But now that she looked, the Grand Duke’s face was also covered in gloomy clouds. Probably clouds full of worry for the Duchess.

His two feet under the table were restless and fidgeting. He was barely eating. The only things entering his mouth were a few sips of water and wine he occasionally gulped down because his throat was parched.

Cassandra kept glancing at the Grand Duke, surprised that a man like Frost Ielheim could make such expressions.

When a smile filled Yuriella’s pale face, the Grand Duke’s blue eyes would soften dreamily in response. When clouds gathered around his wife’s eyes, he would sigh repeatedly, looking just like a sixteen-year-old boy fallen in first love, making her shudder.

It was like a dragon bigger than a castle lying on its back and showing its belly to a baby kitten.

Though the Duchess was not a baby kitten, but a formidable knight who once commanded a crimson phoenix that burned enemies to ashes. Anyway.

If not the Grand Duke, which damned bastard could have cast such dark clouds over our Duchess’s fair face?

This time, Sandra’s sharp gaze turned towards the Duke Grande and his son.

‘They say he beat and cursed the Duchess, calling her a bastard child? Did they torment the Duchess again while I wasn’t looking? Should I turn them into roast pork barbecue?’

Having read Sandra’s sinister thoughts completely, Yuriella frowned and shook her head, instructing her:

“Sandra. Could you bring me my shawl?”

Before Sandra could take a step, Frost abruptly stood up, took off his coat, and draped it over Yuriella’s shoulders.

“Bi. Are you feeling unwell? Shall we end this now?”

“But barely half of the prepared dishes have been served?”

“I’ve been worried since your expression has looked unwell for a while now.”

“It would be rude to the guests. Please return to your seat.”

“Frost.”

“Yes?”

“You need to call my name to properly understand I’m talking to you.”

“Please return to your seat now, Frost.”

As his name reluctantly flowed from those pretty lips, Frost smiled contentedly and pretended not to have heard.

“What did you say? I can’t hear you well.”

“I said please return to your seat now without making the guests uncomfortable, Frost.”

Somehow, he thought he could hear his wife quietly grinding her teeth prettily, but.

Frost cleared away one strand of the dark clouds that had filled his face, and obediently returned to his seat as his wife, who looked even prettier today, commanded. With a sweet smile melting onto his lips that had been pressed into a thin line.

Duke Grande and Dolman Grande’s expressions soured as they watched with their mouths agape.

It would have been less nauseating if he had remained cold and unfeeling as usual. Expressing ‘I’m uncomfortable. I’m annoyed.’ with his whole body would have been less sickening.

“Hahaha. As a father, I am simply grateful and happy to see my daughter so loved by Your Highness.”

Duke Grande burst into exaggerated laughter and clapped his hands.

“Yuriella. Be sure to make a little Grand Duke to present to His Highness on your honeymoon. Your father will pray to the goddess as well.”

Yuriella looked coldly at the Duke.

‘You mean you want me in your arms, not the Grand Duke’s? You think you’ll be able to get rid of the Grand Duke the moment I bear a child of Ielheim blood? Your intentions are so transparent that I’m not even angry anymore.’

As his wife’s expression darkened, Frost glared at the Duke.

‘Tsk. What a tactless bear of a father. Is this something to say to your daughter in a place crawling with dark-skinned men?’

The tactless bear’s paw pushed forward another step, failing to read the atmosphere.

“Oh my. Why are you so silent? There’s nothing shameful about a beautiful fruit being born between a married couple.”

“Hey, Duke. My wife isn’t ashamed, she’s uncomfortable and annoyed. And she’s no longer your daughter, but the Grand Duchess now. Mind your manners.”

“…Pardon?”

“And drop the talk of little Grand Dukes and beautiful fruits. We’ll decide whether to have a son or daughter ourselves. If you overstep one more time, I’ll reconsider all the promises I made with you.”

The thick nostrils of Duke Grande, who had looked down on his daughter as a bastard child, flared as they exhaled hot steam.

It was the first time the Grand Duke, who had shown some respect as a valued retainer of the previous Grand Duke, so openly humiliated him, and in front of the northern nobles no less.

Dolman Grande flinched in surprise and grabbed his father’s arm as he interjected. Even a blockhead like him had enough awareness to know that breaking the mood now would be unwise.

Dolman did his best to gather words to change the atmosphere.

“Father, please understand. Yuriella, I mean Her Grace the Duchess, seems upset because the honeymoon she was looking forward to has become gloomy. Colina Rosa? What is there to see or do there? So of course Her Grace is disappointed and her expression is like that, I mean, looks that way. Hahaha.”

But the blockhead made the mistake of touching on the most sensitive nerve of the ducal couple.

The topic that no one had dared to bring up during the banquet.

The reason for choosing that honeymoon destination, which not only the invited northern nobles but also the butler and all the servants of the Grand Duke’s household were deeply curious about.

Why, of all places, Colina Rosa?

Shing.

Dolman, who had been smiling, opened his eyes wide. Somehow, a transparent ice sword was now emanating a cold chill, as if about to be thrust into Dolman’s awkwardly smiling mouth.

“Hck!”

“You ask what there is to see or do in Colina Rosa? Is that all the sacrifice of Colina Rosa meant to you, Dolman Grande? Is the blood of the people who died protecting their land and lord just a dinner table joke to you?”

The Grand Duke’s deep blue eyes were as cold as the ice sword he held.

The air in the banquet hall froze as if chilled by the lord’s frosty rebuke and anger.

The northern nobles also glared at Dolman with eyes no less cold than the Grand Duke’s.

Only then did Dolman realize his mistake and abruptly stood up, prostrating himself on the cold floor.

Duke Grande also let out a deep sigh at Dolman’s slip of the tongue.

Colina Rosa was not a place to be mentioned carelessly.

That place, trampled by the northern subjugation army led by Imperial Knight Commander Solas Moretti, was not the land of traitors but the home where honest people had toiled to make a living.

There were no rebels in Colina Rosa. It was the emperor’s spies who falsely confessed to being traitors and brought about their downfall.

Rejecting the emperor’s envoy’s sweet persuasion that all would be spared if they confessed to being traitors and testified that Grand Duke Frost Ielheim was their ringleader, the people chose death instead.

It was the final resting place of loyal subjects who shed blood to protect their land’s rightful owner with sickles and pitchforks in hand.

That is why Colina Rosa became a symbol of pride and self-respect for the people of the North.

And Frost Ielheim, overcome with gratitude he could never repay and guilt, visited the survivors, unable to say anything as he knelt before them and wept silently for a long time.

That was the kind of place Colina Rosa was.

“I misspoke. Please forgive me-.”

Dolman Grande begged for forgiveness, pale as a herbivore caught by a predator.

Yuriella tried to endure the heavily sunken atmosphere of the banquet hall, feeling as if all the blood had drained from her body.

Colina Rosa.

That place was also a deep pain and sorrow for her.

It was the grave of her subordinates who had perished in vain following her, and where she had forever lost the Sword of Fire that had been part of her body.

Colina Rosa was also an embarrassment she wanted to forget and a bitter regret.

Even though she knew how cunning and cruel the emperor was, it was where she had been deceived by his words and spilled the hot blood of the innocent northern people by branding them as traitors.

And Frost Ielheim.

The master of the North who had saved her countless times on every battlefield they met, but who had become a time bomb in her hands.

Though she had vowed to serve him loyally as her new lord…

‘Do I really… deserve such a right?’

It was the first time she had heard the Grand Duke mention Colina Rosa. His voice, as if raking through his heart and internal organs with a pitchfork, was too devastating to hear.

Yuriella bit her lip, trying to resist the urge to run away.

“Your Grace… There’s blood on your hand…!”

Sandra exclaimed in horror as she rushed to Yuriella.

“Ah…”

It seems she had unknowingly gripped the blade of the knife she was holding tightly. Blood flowed from her deeply cut palm.

Frost’s face turned pale as he turned to Sandra’s cry.

“Yuriella!”

Frost ran over and wrapped Yuriella’s hand with a napkin as he shouted to the butler.

“Doctor! Call the doctor!”

“…It’s fine.”

“How is it fine. Quickly call the physi-”

Unable to bear it any longer, Yuriella abruptly stood up and shook off Frost’s hand.

“I said it’s fine! What’s a wound like this-!”

“Yuriella. There’s blood on your hand right now-”

Frost tried to take Yuriella’s hand again, but this time she shook off his touch more roughly and harshly.

“I’ll do it…! Don’t you know? I’m the one who heals you…”

Yuriella opened her wounded palm and carefully summoned healing energy so the guests wouldn’t notice, and the wound began to heal rapidly.

“Yuriella…”

Though the wound had healed cleanly, teardrops silently fell from Yuriella’s eyes. It was a face unaware that she was crying.

As Frost took a step closer to wipe away her tears.

Yuriella reflexively flinched and took a step back.

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well… Please… continue with the meal. I’ll take my leave…”

Yuriella abruptly turned and quickly left the banquet hall.

“Yuriella!”

Frost urgently followed after Yuriella.

The banquet hall left by the ducal couple was quiet as if everything had stopped.

Ricarion, the Archmage, who was leaning against the corridor wall in front of the banquet hall with his presence concealed, glared at Aerie sitting on the windowsill across the corridor.

But Ricarion could no longer scold Aerie.

Aerie’s small face, looking up at him, was drenched in tears.

The little chin wet with silently falling teardrops was trembling with sobs.

That fragment of wind would know better than anyone that Yuriella would cry even more if she went there.

What should be done?

The Archmage’s faint sigh slowly flowed along the path Yuriella had taken, carried by the sobbing wind.