‘My goodness. Can a person’s eyes be that beautiful?’

Yuriella stared blankly down at Frost.

More beautiful than intricately crafted sapphires, more mesmerizing than the rippling waters of Lake Isilian, the Grand Duke’s blue eyes sparkled dazzlingly under silver eyelashes.

“Since it’s late, I’ll ask just one thing. But please tell me only the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes.”

Captivated by those dazzlingly beautiful eyes, Yuriella didn’t even realize she had answered “yes” twice.

She only thought his smile was sweeter than sugar maple syrup when the Grand Duke’s eyes curved gently.

Dazedly smiling back at the Grand Duke with a silly grin, Yuriella felt a chill run down her spine from a sense of déjà vu.

She knew that smile.

The Grand Duke always wore that exact smile when he lured hordes of monsters or enemy troops into a trap.

“What… are you curious about?”

“There’s so much I’m curious about, it’s not easy to choose.”

Yuriella gulped.

Had she done something suspicious again?

Averting her gaze, Yuriella thought hard.

‘Was my walk too stiff and soldier-like when I entered the room earlier?’

She had been distracted, her mind rushing ahead to the acupuncture treatment.

‘Or could he be asking about the scars left on my hands when Nikon snuck into Fort Falco?’

Though he hadn’t mentioned it, as a knight, the Grand Duke must have recognized those as scars from gripping a sword hilt.

‘Or perhaps he wants to ask about how the Archmage saved my life?’

To answer that, she’d have to reveal that she was a wandering soul in the imperial palace. And that she was Solas, who cut him with the demon sword and gave him a death sentence. Then he wouldn’t smile at her so brightly anymore…

Looking at the Grand Duke, who smiled at her as warm and clear as spring sunshine despite being the ruler of the Winter Kingdom, Yuriella became gloomy.

She knew she’d have to reveal the truth someday, but Yuriella had hesitated and postponed like a child delaying punishment.

But she had already answered that she would speak only the truth.

Moreover, he was her lord to whom she’d sworn allegiance in blood, so she could not deceive him with foolish silence or lies.

Yuriella bit the inside of her lip hard and looked at Frost with a resolute expression.

“Please speak. I will answer anything, Your Highness.”

Frost’s long eyes frowned as he rested his chin on his hand.

‘Again, again.’

His wife had instantly transformed from a diligent healer to a loyal subject.

He was reminded of a masked performance by a troupe from the Eastern Continent that had drifted into the North some time ago.

Bianjian, was it called? It was truly amazing how the performer’s mask changed from blue to red in an instant every time they covered their face with their sleeve or shook their head.

Among the Grand Duchess’s swiftly changing faces, the sweet ‘wife’s face’ was as rare and precious as the full moon that rises only twice a month, which was regrettable.

“Who was your first love?”

“Pardon?”

Yuriella’s red eyes blinked slowly at the completely unexpected question.

“Your first love. Who was the one who made your heart flutter as a young girl?”

A gentle curve appeared on Frost’s neat lips, which were faintly red.

He never intended to ask a question that would trouble his wife in the first place.

It was just a question thrown to grab his wife’s attention, which was lost in thoughts of the noble council meeting. No, he wanted to pull her out of thoughts of the emperor who had convened it.

“Tell me. What kind of man was your first love?”

He had already heard everything from Yuriella’s new father Thomas, who had accompanied the newlyweds. His wife had never had a first love.

Seeing his wife’s face turn red not just on her milky cheeks but also her ears and neck, he felt a little sorry, but her appearance was so precious and lovely that it was difficult to stop teasing.

How can my wife be so innocent?

“Usually, don’t girls have one? A prince on a white horse that fifteen or sixteen-year-old girls dream of. Or a childhood friend who used to splash naked in the stream suddenly seen as a man one day.”

“Hmm. Not fifteen or sixteen, but seventeen.”

“Pardon…?”

“When I fell in first love. I didn’t realize it then, but thinking about it now, that person was my first love.”

A blue flame flashed for a moment in Frost’s eyes, which had been overflowing with composure, but.

“What kind of man was he?”

Yuriella, who started speaking shyly with her long eyelashes lowered, did not see the Grand Duke’s eyebrows twitching or his smiling lips twisting mischievously.

“He was a man who was good at everything.”

Yuriella’s face lit up and sparkled like a diamond chandelier with a hundred candles lit.

“Good… at everything? What exactly was he good at? I’m very curious.”

His voice was as calm as a placid lake, so Yuriella failed to realize she should stop speaking there.

“Everything. Everything.”

You know, that man…

Yuriella recalled the man Solas Moretti met on a spring day at seventeen.

“He was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

“I thought you said Shavell was the most handsome man on earth.”

He didn’t childishly ask why he wasn’t the best. He would kick away such praise of being good-looking even if given.

Frost inwardly snorted loudly.

“His Highness Lewis is pretty. My first love was ‘handsome.’ I like handsome men.”

As Yuriella clearly explained that difference and her distinct preference, Frost’s mood twisted more than a three-stranded ship rope.

“I’m surprised that your first criterion for liking men is appearance. It’s just ‘skin wrapping’ after all.”

“How can you call it mere skin wrapping? Don’t you look in mirrors, Your Grace?”

“…!”

His wife’s words, carelessly thrown while lost in fond memories, pierced Frost’s heart like a sharp dagger.

And Frost fell headlong into the first bog that men who fall into unrequited love usually fall into.

The very gloomy and sorrowful bog of inferiority that makes one feel hopelessly inadequate to the one they love despite being revered as the most handsome man in the North, and makes one flounder in pitiful self-deprecation over their mere ‘skin wrapping’.

But Yuriella, who had already leapt far beyond to the land of memories, did not think to pull the Grand Duke out of that bog.

The Grand Duke before her eyes had become merely a blurry background behind the cherished memories she had summoned.

What Yuriella clearly saw now was the eighteen-year-old Frost Ielheim, whose silver hair gleaming in the sunlight had been so dazzling it seemed to blind her eyes.

It was just days after Solas Moretti had taken her first step into the Imperial Knights, hiding her face, when she first met the Grand Duke of the North who had visited the imperial palace Blanc Casa after a long time to attend the Harvest Thanksgiving Festival.

Solas went to the imperial training ground early in the morning to warm up and first saw Frost already sparring with the Angelus Knights.

“When I first saw him, I thought he was a sculpture directly crafted by God.”

Frost was so frustrated he couldn’t even breathe, let alone speak.

‘What, a sculpture crafted by God? Ha!’

It felt as if his wife had shoved the entire Anderinas volcano into his chest, making his insides boil.

“He was also truly excellent in martial arts. He was skilled with the sword and in hand-to-hand combat. He had the most impressive muscles I had ever seen. I was so envious.”

Recalling the young Grand Duke’s figure as he knocked down his knights one after another on the training ground floor while dripping with sweat, Yuriella smiled beautifully, her white cheeks puffing up.

“So the second criterion for what you consider a ‘good man’ is muscles?”

“If innate beauty is a gift from God, then tightly packed muscles are the product of painful effort and will.”

Frost glanced down at his body under the blanket.

Though his body was filled with muscles trained to a degree he wouldn’t be ashamed of anywhere, he was deeply depressed by the fact that part of his firm chest and abdominal muscles were swollen and damaged reddish-black due to the wound from the demonic poison.

It would fall far short of his wife’s standards, who was serious about muscles.

Who on earth could be the owner of the muscles that captivated his wife at first sight?

“A strong body houses a strong spirit and indomitable will, doesn’t it? Don’t you think all of that reflects the passion and spirit of sacrifice to protect those who are precious?”

Yuriella thought of the countless battlefields she had fought on with the owner of the holy sword Iello.

The battlefield where countless lives had to be cut down. Whether the opponent was barbarians or monsters, the sensation of being covered in blood all over always left a bitter and gloomy aftertaste no matter how many times she experienced it.

Still, the excitement and thrill of going to meet the lord of the North had saved her from the depression of having to see blood again many times.

Lost in thought, Yuriella pulled the corners of her mouth and burst into clear laughter.

“And his cursing was so charismatically good. Listening to it would clear my mind and instantly blow away the frustration that had built up like indigestion.”

After ten days and nights of fierce battle, losing many subordinates. On that cold and lonely night when even the drums of victory sounded like a funeral dirge.

When there was not even the strength left to move a fingertip, it was the Grand Duke of Ielheim’s thunderous shouts and curses that raised the subordinates sprawled on the dirt floor, made them laugh boisterously for a moment, and encouraged them to prepare for tomorrow’s battle.

Such harsh curses that even street ruffians would be shocked by poured out of that noble mouth as refreshingly as the Nereto waterfall.

“It was somehow like cheering, somehow like comfort. I would stay up waiting just to eavesdrop on those curses.”

At the words that she loved even his cursing so much that she stayed up to eavesdrop, the corners of the Grand Duke’s neat mouth drooped.

‘Was it a mistake to ask about first love?’

But he couldn’t bring himself to stop her now.

He didn’t know what damned fellow she was recalling, but his wife’s face, lost in memories, was heartbreakingly beautiful…

Whether their future would be as he hoped or not.

He had a feeling that his wife’s smile like this and her girlhood memories would become precious memories that he would cherish in his heart for a long time.

Just as his wife now cherished her first love…

As for that handsome and muscular first love bastard, he could just secretly catch him and match him with the North’s best bride candidate. That’s all. If he had any sense, he wouldn’t dare to pine for his wife.

“By the way, that man. He’s not someone I know, is he?”

I hope not. He shouldn’t be.

Yuriella opened her eyes wide and laughed brightly as if surprised.

“Hmm. I don’t think he’s someone you don’t know?”

Frost didn’t ask who it was. He had a clear hunch who it was.

It must be that bastard. The master of that insignificant magic tower who only wields insignificant magic.

“If it’s who I’m thinking of, give up, wife. He’s a very insignificant bastard.”

“I already gave up long ago. But he’s definitely not an insignificant person.”

His wife’s clear eyes moistened slightly, looking as if they would fill with tears at any moment, making Frost flustered and at a loss for what to do.

“He is an insignificant bastard. But okay. If… you don’t want to give up, you don’t have to. After all, he is… your first… love, so he must be precious.”

The Grand Duke hurriedly gave up his plan to secretly break the Archmage’s legs and smash the magic tower.

Because he didn’t want his wife to cry.

“I said I gave up! I don’t even dream about it!”

After encouraging his wife’s first love with a bleeding heart, what he got in return was a sharp scolding.

“You thought well. Isn’t it said that first loves are never meant to be? Forget about it completely, and don’t even look at that insignificant bastard’s handsome face. No, don’t even go near that muscle lump sculpted by God.”

Anyway, the Grand Duke’s mouth loosened in relief as his wife said she had given up, but.

“Who are you to tell me what to do? I’ll do as I please!”

Yuriella flared up, quickly packed up her acupuncture needle case, and walked briskly towards the door.

Frost unconsciously turned his gaze to her vigorous and lively footsteps, more like a soldier than a dancer, and quickly chased after his wife.

“Wife! Yuriella!”

“Huh?”

Yuriella suddenly stopped in her tracks.

A large cockroach, about the size of two finger joints, was crawling along, wiggling its antennae.

“Yuriella. Stay still. I’ll—”

Frost stepped forward quickly to remove the disgusting insect from in front of his wife, but.

— Crunch.

Yuriella’s silk shoe with pink pistils crushed the insect to death.

The Grand Duke shuddered as if he had been stepped on himself.

*

— Crunch!

With that sound, the translucent black veil floating in the air crumbled and scattered into the air.

The image of Grand Duke Frost Ielheim standing frozen with a bewildered expression slowly dispersed in the air, and a swarm of mayflies that had lived out their lifespan fell to the floor in a shower.

Saint candidate Karina Pioni, who had been secretly peeking into the couple’s bedroom with black magic, clicked her tongue and shook her head with a look of contempt.

“Your Grace. It seems that Lady Yuriella’s first love, who was good at everything, was probably you.”