Chapter 18
My Life Was Mortgaged –
With a familiar scent, he appeared.
“You’re here now?”
“What were you choosing?”
Howard, who looked slightly rushed, glanced at the cufflinks Irina was holding.
Irina waved them lightly in her hand.
“Damian said he’d buy us a gift. Don’t you think these are nice?”
“They’re beautiful.”
“…What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
When Howard feigned ignorance, Irina gave him a suspicious look.
“Well, not bad. You should be like this—trying to act kind before getting married, is that it?”
Even as she teased, her smile showed that she was enjoying the outing.
After receiving Damian’s gift, they left the jewelry shop.
Damian, who had planned to dine with them, suddenly apologized, saying something urgent had come up.
Irina hadn’t had the best first impression of him, but perhaps because they were both from Arendor, she’d grown surprisingly comfortable with him.
“Thank you so much for today. I’m sorry we can’t have dinner together.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Take care! See you at the Grand Duke’s residence. Howard, let’s go.”
Irina waved to Damian.
“So, did you take care of that issue?”
As Irina turned to look up at him, Howard replied,
“Yes. For now.”
“You don’t look well.”
“I’m still grasping the situation. You don’t need to worry.”
Even though he said that, throughout their meal he seemed distracted—his mind clearly elsewhere.
He was the same on the way home.
Looking so absent-minded, Irina only greeted him briefly before heading into her own room.
Even when she asked Casey, the maid only smiled innocently, so Irina gave up.
That night.
Maybe it was because she went to bed with a sense of unease.
She had another nightmare.
She was being chased, running away, facing death, watching death.
But this time, the dream was of someone resenting her—resenting her for being alive.
It was the first dream like that, and even after waking up, she felt unsettled.
‘Something bad is going to happen.’
Irina muttered to herself, drenched in sweat as she woke before dawn.
She couldn’t fall back asleep until the sun rose.
Irina went to Howard’s room earlier than usual.
She had a feeling something might happen today—and planned to keep him from going out.
She made up an excuse using the brooch Damian had given her as a gift.
She’d say she came to show it off.
But just as she reached his room, someone stepped out.
“Damian?”
“Oh—Lady?”
Instead of Howard, Damian greeted her.
“Huh? What are you doing here so early? I thought we’d see each other tomorrow.”
“Haha, right.”
“Where’s Howard? Is he inside?”
For Irina it was early, but for men like them—used to starting work around six after training—it wasn’t.
“Well… maybe you shouldn’t see him right now?”
Damian looked awkward and hesitant, standing at the doorway with an uneasy smile—like he was hoping she would just leave.
“What’s wrong, Damian?”
Irina frowned, clearly sensing his discomfort.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
Damian flinched.
Irina’s eyes narrowed. He was obviously hiding something.
“Howard’s inside, isn’t he?”
Click.
At that moment, the physician stepped out of the room, holding a basin filled with red-stained cloth and instruments.
Irina’s face went pale.
“Howard’s hurt?”
Her voice rose before she realized it.
Before Damian could respond, she pushed the door open.
“Howard!”
She scanned the room—there he was, seated in a chair with his shoulder wrapped in bandages.
He froze mid-motion, halfway through dressing.
Irina rushed toward him.
“What happened?”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re injured?”
“I made a small mistake during training. Just a scratch.”
Damian, who had followed her in, spoke up,
“It’s really not serious.”
Howard shot him a deadly glare—as if to say, Why did you let her in?
Damian only shrugged helplessly.
Irina’s eyes were fixed on the faint blood seeping through the bandage.
“How could you be so careless? What kind of ‘training’ leaves that much blood—especially this early in the morning?”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
So it was true.
Her dream must have been about this.
Howard’s eyes widened as he noticed her tears falling.
“Why…”
He hastily reached out to wipe her tears—using his injured arm.
“Don’t lift your arm! What are you doing!”
She scolded him again as he winced in pain.
Sensing the tension, Damian quietly waved and slipped out of the room.
Irina didn’t even notice he’d left. She carefully brushed her hand over Howard’s injured shoulder.
“Does it hurt a lot?”
Though Howard was the one hurt, Irina seemed even more distraught.
“It’s just a small scrape from sparring with the trainees.”
“So, a sword injury? Sword cuts take a while to heal.”
“It’ll be fine soon. Why are you crying over this?”
He wasn’t lying—except that the accident happened after training, not during.
After the session ended, a careless trainee had grazed Howard’s shoulder with a sword.
It hadn’t hurt much, but it bled more than expected, so he had to get it treated.
Seeing the wide bandage, Irina had misunderstood.
Hearing his explanation, her tears finally stopped.
“Really?”
Feeling embarrassed, she wiped her cheeks.
“Then get better quickly.”
* * *
Outside, Damian closed the door behind him.
“Phew.”
He’d been startled by Irina’s reaction.
It wasn’t such a big injury, yet she’d burst into tears.
He’d never seen anyone cry like that out of pure worry for someone else.
The emotions swirling in him were hard to describe—something between envy and melancholy.
He walked away to shake the feeling off.
* * *
“Don’t go to work today. Stay in bed.”
“I have mountains of things to do.”
“Just rest for one day!”
Even after she stopped crying, Irina refused to leave his side.
They had been arguing nonstop.
Howard insisted he had to go out, but Irina wouldn’t let him—saying it would only make the wound worse.
Anyone watching might think he’d been gravely injured.
“You look ugly when you’re angry.”
Howard muttered grumpily.
“Do you want to die?”
Irina’s tears vanished instantly as she smacked his uninjured shoulder.
“Ah!”
Howard exaggerated a wince.
“You said it barely hurt! And that’s the other shoulder!”
“Where’d that crying, worried woman from earlier go?”
“You annoyed me, so she’s gone. Anyway, don’t you dare leave today! If you go out, I’ll leave the house!”
A servant who entered to clean froze in shock—seeing their master being scolded like a child.
Howard sat obediently on the bed, hands folded, looking awkwardly apologetic.
It was hard to believe this was the same man they knew.
What a strange sight, the servant thought, confused.
The bleeding had stopped, and the redness on the bandage had faded.
“So, why did you come see me this early? Were you uncomfortable or something?”
“Huh? Oh—no, not that.”
“Then it can’t be because you missed me.”
“Of course not! I came to show off my brooch!”
Howard’s eyes landed on the brooch pinned above her left chest.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
“You really think that suits you?” he said flatly.
“Anyway—don’t go anywhere today, got it?”
In the end, Howard lost to her persistence.
Irina left the room only after he reluctantly nodded.
‘My bad feelings always turn out to be right,’ she sighed, heading back to her room.
That evening, a little past dinner, Irina returned from a walk in the garden with Casey and spotted something on her table.
A ribboned box.
When she opened it, inside was a brooch—gorgeous and radiant.
She immediately knew who it was from.
No need for a note.
Maybe because she’d shown off the other one earlier.
It was slightly larger and more ornate than the one she’d shown Howard.
“What the… Howard. You really haven’t changed at all.”
He’d always quietly give her things, pretending not to care—never admitting it.
And he hated losing to others.
When they were young, she used to enjoy seeing him trail after her.
Now he’d grown tall and mature—completely an adult.
Sometimes it even felt awkward treating him the way she used to.
Especially when he made those teasing comments about her being older.
After a warm bath, she found herself touching the brooch over and over.
It was the same kind of jewel, yet it felt so much more special.
Lying in bed, she placed it by her pillow.
The one Damian had given her was still in the top drawer, neatly wrapped—saved to be exchanged after the wedding.
Smiling softly, Irina drifted off to sleep.
