Countless unpleasant thoughts flooded her mind in an instant.
What if Adrian hadn’t left on time? What if Benson had stopped him just as he was walking away?
What would have happened to her today?
The mere thought made her vision dim.
Ione felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head, and for a moment, she couldn’t even breathe properly.
“I…”
What did I do that was so wrong?
A bitter, resentful thought nearly escaped her lips, but Ione bit down on her tongue and barely managed to stop herself.
Careful with your words.
If she had to be honest about the cause of all this, it was her own fault for being so careless and naive.
She had let her guard down, comforted by Helena’s concern—thinking, foolishly, that it was for her sake.
She thought maybe, just maybe, she’d gained an ally in this world, a storyline deviation from the original where someone might actually take her side.
She’d gotten ahead of herself, buoyed by the false hope that she needed to go see the male lead.
And she’d acted without thinking.
“Your Highness.”
“I shouldn’t be disrupting the Grand Duke’s important schedule like this.”
“But Your Highness, your health is important too.”
“Mr. Benson. I appreciate your concern, but as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. And is it really appropriate to interrupt the Grand Duke over something like this? People are already wary of me since I’ve been elevated to the position of Grand Duchess. I nearly caused a serious misunderstanding just now.”
Ione’s calm, deliberate words made both Benson and Helena’s faces drain of color.
They must’ve realized their mistake—albeit a little too late.
But Ione no longer had the energy to worry about them.
“Your Highness…”
Ignoring Benson’s anxious glances, Ione turned away from them.
“Well then, I’ll be heading back. I’ve got things to do.”
“Pardon? What do you mean, Your Highness—?”
“Now that I’m feeling better, I thought I might take a proper look around the estate. Helena, please send one of the maids with me.”
“Let’s go,”
Adrian said curtly.
With that single word, both Orgen and the messenger were teleported to the knights’ encampment.
“Lead the way.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As soon as they arrived, the Grand Duke urged his horse forward, the messenger riding ahead as his guide.
His form cutting through the cold air looked—at least on the outside—as calm and composed as always.
His sharp gaze focused on the path ahead, his movements practiced and commanding in his armor. He looked every bit the leader.
And yet… something felt off.
Adrian couldn’t shake the sensation that something was wrong.
What is it?
Riding beside him, Orgen kept glancing over at him with a worried expression, as though trying to figure something out—but Adrian himself had no idea what that might be.
They’d been riding for a while when Orgen finally spoke.
“Your Grace… are you feeling upset, by any chance?”
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
“What are you talking about?”
The one blessed by the dragon—deemed the most powerful in generations, with the highest recorded rate of emotional detachment.
That was Adrian.
The idea that he might be ‘upset’ didn’t even make sense to him.
“I know it might sound strange,”
Orgen continued,
“but… you really seem angry.”
“Me?”
“Yes, strange as it sounds.”
“Did I frown? Raise my voice?”
“No, nothing like that. But… you just seem off.”
What on earth?
The more Orgen spoke, the less Adrian understood.
And that odd, unfamiliar sensation from earlier—he could feel it growing.
A burning tightness in his chest. Something rising in his throat.
What is this…?
Just as he was beginning to piece together a clue—
“Your Grace!”
A loud voice cut through the air. One of the knights—Captain of the First Division—had spotted them and was rushing over.
“Damn it,”
Adrian muttered, the frustration so instinctive it escaped as a rare curse under his breath.
“Your Grace!”
the knight called again, this time with even graver news.
“We found a nest.”
“A nest?”
“A nest?!”
Orgen echoed in disbelief.
A ‘
nest
’ was the term used for the caves where monsters laid their eggs.
So that’s why they’d requested Adrian’s presence instead of just a written reinforcement order?
“But it’s still early winter!”
Orgen protested.
His concern was valid. Monsters only entered their breeding season during the depths of winter—when the cold was at its most severe.
But they were barely at the beginning of the season.
“Exactly. We were lucky to discover it this early, but…”
Even the captain couldn’t hide the unease in his voice.
“Where is it?”
“Two hours from here.”
“How big?”
“Seems like there are at least two brood-mothers.”
“Follow at a one-hour interval.”
“You’re going alone?”
“Did you forget? Monsters in heat are wildly aggressive. I’ll go ahead and clear out the worst of it. Follow when I signal.”
With that, Adrian spurred his horse forward.
The strange emotion that had been clouding him just moments ago—washed away, as if it had never been.
Everything returned to normal.
The air was cold, the sky a dull gray, and the snow just as relentless as ever.
The maid Helena had assigned to Ione was a young girl named Catherine—quiet, perceptive, and thoughtful beyond her years.
Catherine paced the tour of the manor carefully, mindful of Ione’s recently recovered health.
I didn’t even get through a single floor, did I?
Ione felt a bit sheepish after boasting that she was fully recovered, and now finding herself seated at the dining table once again.
But her gloom didn’t last long.
Despite being in the middle of a barren land, the food laid out before her was not only abundant—it was luxurious.
“Wow. Salad? In this season?”
She’d nearly forgotten how down she’d been moments ago, now lifting her fork to spear a perfectly cut piece of salad.
Crisp. As if it had just been harvested.
“How is this even possible?”
“There’s a greenhouse, Your Highness.”
Ione nodded. She turned toward Helena, lifting one of the strange ingredients from her plate.
“What’s this one called?”
It looked like a sea urchin.
The local vegetables in the North were certainly… unusual.
While Ione blinked in curiosity—
Helena let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Your Highness, be careful!”
The urchin-like vegetable suddenly sprouted eyes—right from the tips of its spines.
…What?
Thunk!
A loud noise followed as a dagger stabbed into the table.
“W-What is going on?!”
Helena may have looked like a refined noblewoman, but she was now mercilessly crushing the eye-sprouting monster under her blade—with a tone that still somehow sounded ladylike.
“A monster! How is this possible?!”
She looked utterly distraught, but Ione… was not.
I knew it.
She was the only one who hadn’t received a protection seal —how could the original story possibly overlook that?
“Helena.”
Ione calmly stepped behind her maid, close enough to grab a fistful of her skirt.
“Does it… suck blood, by any chance?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Please don’t leave my side until I’m done.”
Of course not!
Helena was the only one here with a weapon. There was no way Ione was letting go.
“Is it very dangerous?”
“Not exactly, but once it latches on, it’s hard to remove.”
That… doesn’t sound comforting at all.
Ione fought to keep her face from twisting in dismay.
“The barbs are hooked, so they don’t come out easily. But they’re easy to kill—just destroy the core.
”
Crunch
.
With a practiced twist of her blade, Helena shattered the creature’s core. The barbed spines wilted instantly.
“Is it dead?”
“Yes, it’s been neutralized.”
“What… what was that?”
“They’re called ‘
Needle Crawlers
.’ I think it might’ve come in on the messenger’s clothing. They’re everywhere in the Black Forest.”
She casually picked up the dead monster with her fingertips and dropped it into the trash bin.
“But don’t worry. These things don’t attack anyone with a seal. Once Your Highness receives one, you’ll be safe.”
Her tone had completely shifted. No longer panicked, Helena now spoke with serene confidence.
But Ione—still the only one in the manor without a seal—couldn’t feel anything close to calm.
“Um…”
She really didn’t want to ask.
But what choice did she have?
“When will His Grace be returning?”
“Oh my.”
Just two syllables. But Helena’s voice was so loaded with emotion that Ione had to clench her jaw.
You’re seriously misunderstanding me.
She wanted to scream it.
It’s not obsession, I swear.