Chapter 4
Even his voice trembled faintly. It didn’t seem to be from excitement—rather, from pain. He looked like the wolf she had once seen long ago: the one lying curled up in the forest with an arrow lodged in its waist after fleeing from his second master. That was why Lanya strangely couldn’t bring herself to push him away or kick him.
He pleaded, burrowing deeper into her embrace like a child.
“Please… don’t move. I won’t act frightening. So just… let me hold you like this.”
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as if it were the only thing keeping him alive. His body trembled in fits and starts. Now that he was sweating, it truly seemed as though he was unwell. Lanya studied him cautiously.
“Are you… hurt?”
“Yes. I hurt a lot.”
He rubbed his damp face against her neck, whining like a child to its mother.
“But you… make the pain go away.”
She couldn’t understand what he meant.
“So… you’ll keep holding me, right?”
This was her chance to escape while he was weakened. She had always survived by seizing opportunities and fleeing without looking back—something life had taught her the hard way. Yet she found herself frozen. Why wasn’t she running?
There was something strangely desperate about the way he clung to her, and she couldn’t ignore him. It even felt pitiful—this great man begging her not to leave, saying he would be satisfied with nothing more than a hug.
“If it… helps you, I can do that much. B-but….”
Lanya couldn’t hold it in any longer and shouted:
“Could you move this out of the way?!”
Something that had been pressing insistently against her had been bothering her, driving away the sympathy she had felt.
“This?”
Even while he was groaning as if in pain and sweating like someone truly ill, he chuckled and pointed down at himself.
So he was lying about being sick?
Annoyed, she glared at him—but then he suddenly burst into laughter. Rising from her lap, his shoulders shook as he laughed, then he tilted his head and smiled at her.
“Better?”
“Yes…”
Lanya nodded awkwardly.
The Grand Duke of Berkian’s face bloomed like a radiant flower, and he threw himself back into her arms. He seemed intent on keeping his promise—carefully avoiding contact with the “obscene” part of himself. Lanya looked down at him as he buried his face in her, sniffing and exhaling roughly from time to time. She awkwardly patted his back.
“It feels good.”
“Th-this?”
“Yes. Do it more.”
Lanya obediently continued patting his back. He pressed even closer, like a child seeking comfort.
He doesn’t feel like a murderous monster—more like a puppy.
Holding her hand awkwardly in the air, Lanya gazed down at him, now curled up with his face buried against her stomach.
As expected, rumors couldn’t be trusted.
Thud!
Startled by sudden pain, Lanya opened her eyes and looked around.
“What… where am I…?”
Right. She had been brought here as the bride of the Grand Duke of Berkian. After being seized by him—who had suddenly turned violent—she must have fallen asleep without realizing it.
“Who are you?”
A sharp object was pressed against her neck. Freezing in place, Lanya slowly turned her head and looked up.
The Grand Duke of Berkian was holding a sword to her throat.
“What makes you still alive?”
His eyes, filled with confusion, were a different color from the previous night—now a dark, ashen black.
What?
It had been red before…
She stared at him in shock before speaking.
“What are you talking about? Do you expect I should have fainted in the night or something?”
“Speak!”
Suddenly, he seized her collar and slammed her against the wall.
“What did you do to me?”
Her tailbone still aching from earlier, and now possibly facing a broken shoulder, Lanya looked at him with a resentful expression.
What had she done?
What crime was he accusing her of? She had done nothing but tell the truth. If anything, he was the one who had acted. He had told her to leave and promised he wouldn’t kill her—then, moments later, he changed his mind and clung to her, insisting she become his bride. First he ordered her out, then suddenly wanted her to stay. How was she supposed to understand such behavior?
Frustrated and confused, she snapped:
“Are you out of your mind? Do you think I should have collapsed for your convenience—?”
“Tell me!”
He tightened his grip.
“Did you do something to me?”
As his hand squeezed her throat, blue veins stood out along his knuckles. Lanya’s face twisted in pain as she gasped for breath.
She struggled, fighting for air. That was when the door suddenly burst open.
“Lord, I was going to dispose of the body—”
A red-haired man stepped in, carrying a bag as if it were routine, only to freeze at the sight before him. He looked back and forth between Lanya and the Grand Duke.
“What… what is going on?”
But instead of helping Lanya, he simply stared at her with mild curiosity.
“How are you still alive?”
Lanya glared at them with bloodshot eyes, thinking that both master and servant were equally insane—then she lost consciousness.
‘He said he would come back for me if I waited and smiled…’
A gentle hand touched her tear-soaked cheek. Lanya had not wanted to let him go. She had clutched at his clothing, trying to hold him back. But fearing he would never return if she clung too desperately, she had reluctantly let go.
‘I will… wait and be good. So you must come back for me, okay?’
‘Of course.’
He patted her head and turned away. It felt as if he would disappear forever if she let him go. Reaching out toward his retreating figure, she stretched out her hand—
“Awake now?”
A strange voice snapped her out of the dream.
Lanya opened her eyes to find a massive man staring down at her.
His wild red hair stuck out in every direction, matching the crimson of his eyes. Though he looked intimidating, the dimple on his cheek gave him a somewhat boyish air. For a moment, Lanya wondered if this was another dream.
The man straightened and spoke to someone behind him.
“She’s awake.”
Lanya sat up unsteadily, realizing she was lying on a bed. What unsettled her more was the scene in the room: the Grand Duke of Berkian sat on a sofa, legs crossed, watching her intently. Around him stood several other men. Unlike the red-haired man, they all regarded Lanya with open hostility.
Their cold gazes made her shoulders tighten.
Then a green-haired man with glasses approached and seized her chin, gripping it painfully.
“From now on, you’d better answer truthfully.”
The sudden pain made her frown.
He cut straight to the point:
“Is it true that the Roan Count sent you in place of his runaway daughter, swapping you to serve as the Grand Duke’s bride?”
The question felt like an interrogation, but Lanya answered honestly.
“Yes, it’s true.”
At that, the only woman present studied Lanya from head to toe.
“I checked. There are numerous marks on her body—nothing like what you’d expect from a noble lady. And there’s even a brand that looks like it came from a slave trader.”
The red-haired man, who had been staring at Lanya since she woke, nodded as if understanding.
“Yeah, I’d believe it. A parent sending their own child to a death sentence must be insane—agh!”
The woman struck him on the head. He jumped in protest.
“Why hit me?”
“Watch your words in front of the lord.”
Only then did the red-haired man realize the Grand Duke had been listening and fell silent. The green-haired man opened his mouth to resume questioning, but the Grand Duke—who had remained silent until now—finally spoke.
