Cold...
A sudden chill spread through my body. At first, I thought the fire in the hearth had gone out.
But when I sat up and looked, the fireplace blazed merrily, flames dancing against stone. Granada had provided plenty of firewood—the fire was still burning brightly.
Why is it so cold all of a sudden?
I curled into myself and hugged my knees, as if a chill was rising from my very heart.
The moment I acknowledged the cold, drafts seemed to blow from every corner of the room that had previously felt warm. Given the nature of stone castles—optimized for defense rather than comfortable living—some wind was inevitable. But this felt excessive.
Come to think of it, most stone walls in proper castles were decorated with tapestries or heavy fabric hangings to block drafts. Here, the gray stone was completely exposed.
Is this because it's a guest room?
After all, Langbrina tapestries were a considerable luxury.
I sat shivering beneath the blanket, unsure what to do about the cold. As the shaking grew worse, I considered calling someone—asking for extra blankets, perhaps, or more firewood.
But then I remembered Granada's words from earlier.
"Please cherish your workers. They're held captive here by their loyalty, begging themselves not to quit their positions."
I lowered my hand from the bell-pull.
No. I can't summon someone in the middle of the night just to complain about being cold.
Wasn't enduring discomfort quietly one of the few things I excelled at?
If I sit closer to the fire and warm myself, my body will heat up eventually.
I dragged a chair to the hearth and wrapped myself tightly in the blanket.
But no matter how close I sat to the flames, the cold refused to leave. The skin nearest the fire grew burning hot, yet inside my chest remained frozen.
It felt as if my torso had turned to ice.
Then I remembered how warm I'd been last night—sleeping soundly beside Callius in his leather traveling clothes.
My teeth chattering, I searched through all the drawers in the room until I found the heavy garment I'd taken off earlier.
With trembling fingers, I struggled to put it on. I couldn't quite manage it properly—someone had always helped me dress in these thick clothes before—but it was still better than pajamas alone.
I stumbled back to bed and wrapped myself in every blanket I could find, trying desperately to seal out any drafts.
It'll be fine once I fall asleep.
But sleep wouldn't come.
I spent a miserable night fighting the cold—going from bed to fireplace and back again in an endless, exhausting cycle.
As the sun finally began to rise, the wood in the fireplace burned down to embers. I curled up in bed like something half-dead and simply held on.
Only after morning properly arrived and sunlight streamed through the window did the terrible chill finally ease. At last, I fell into an exhausted sleep.
While Chloe tossed and turned alone in her room, Callius quietly went to find Mainz.
As usual, Mainz was the last to retire, making his final rounds after all the castle staff had gone to bed.
"What brings you to my chambers at this hour, my lord?"
Mainz greeted him, embarrassed to be caught in his nightclothes.
Callius, who had always seen the steward in immaculate formal attire, felt an unexpected pang seeing Mainz's small, aged shoulders beneath the simple sleeping robe.
The man who had seemed so impossibly old in Callius's childhood memories had grown truly elderly now. Time had passed so quickly.
"I apologize for the late hour. I have a favor to ask."
Mainz's expression grew serious at Callius's tone.
"What do you need?"
"I need you to find a sorcerer."
"A sorcerer? You're asking me?"
Mainz looked puzzled. Why would the lord ask him—a castle steward—to handle work outside the fortress, instead of sending the knights?
Callius's next words carried a bitter edge.
"Move discreetly."
Mainz's expression darkened.
The fact that Callius was ordering secrecy meant he didn't trust the knights with this task.
The knights of Ronheim were Callius's friends, his brothers-in-arms. Except for the younger ones like Alex, most had been with him since childhood—practically family.
He can't trust people like that? Since when? And what is he wary of—what does he suspect?
Mainz asked cautiously, noting how tired Callius looked.
"I heard you encountered Lhasa on your journey back..."
"Lhasa is an excellent prophet. But I need a sorcerer who specializes in curses, not prophecy."
"A curse?"
Mainz barely breathed the word, afraid to even speak it aloud.
He seized Callius's arm with wrinkled hands, examining him frantically for any sign of affliction.
"My lord! What's happened? Are you cursed?"
Before Callius could explain, understanding dawned on Mainz's face.
"I overheard the knights saying you were coerced into this marriage... Surely the Empress Kavala didn't place a curse on you—!"
Callius, worried the elderly steward might collapse from shock, spoke firmly.
"It's not me. And I can't say for certain it's the Empress's doing."
"Then...?"
Relieved that his master wasn't the victim, Mainz calmed considerably.
"Who has been cursed, and by whom?"
"I've only found traces of a curse. I don't know who cast it, for what purpose, how it manifests, or how dangerous it might be. I need a sorcerer to determine those answers."
"I understand."
"Since nothing is certain yet, don't ask further questions or jump to conclusions. Just find me a sorcerer capable of resolving this matter."
"Yes, my lord."
As Callius turned to leave, he added one final instruction.
"As quickly as possible."
"Wake up, Your Highness!"
I barely managed to open my exhausted eyelids as someone shook me awake.
I stared blankly at the light coming through the window shutters. Somehow, it was already morning.
I don't even feel like I slept. I haven't rested at all...
As I struggled to lift my body—which felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds—and let out an enormous yawn, a sharp voice pierced my ears.
"Oh my goodness! Why are you wearing those filthy clothes? You slept in bed in garments you haven't even washed!"
Vanessa noticed I was still wearing the leather traveling clothes and immediately launched into her usual litany of complaints.
"The bedding is completely soiled now. What are we to do? You'll need another bath. Those clothes are far too dirty. How could you possibly—"
This wasn't the first time Vanessa had been sharp with me, so I gave vague responses, barely listening.
"I wore them because I was too cold to sleep otherwise."
At that moment, Granada entered the room. She fixed Vanessa with a cold stare.
"It seems in Arrental, it's acceptable for maids to criticize their superiors so freely. I'm not sure if the culture differs, but in Ronheim, such behavior constitutes gross insubordination. Please refrain from it in the future."
"What? Who do you think you are to lecture me?"
Vanessa glared at Granada with poorly concealed hostility.
"I am not your maid. I serve Her Highness the Princess exclusively."
I watched their confrontation through a fog of exhaustion and sleep deprivation, thinking distantly:
Why does Vanessa always pick fights she can't possibly win?
It was obvious Vanessa was no match for Granada. She looked like a yapping puppy that had lost all sense in front of a tiger.
I wondered why she was so aggressively proud, even though she usually spoke politely enough to Granada when she remembered herself.
Granada replied without so much as blinking, her expression carrying that same commanding presence that had nearly made me cry the first time we met.
"Get your priorities straight. This isn't the palace anymore."
She didn't curse or raise her voice.
Yet somehow it sounded terrifying—as if she were threatening: "If you act foolishly again, I'll bury you in the snow and let you sleep there forever."
Is it her gaze that makes it so frightening?
If I were facing Granada right now, I would definitely burst into tears.
Her stare was that sharp—like a bird of prey. I'd once seen an illustration of a huge, fierce raptor in a reference book, and Granada's eyes reminded me exactly of that predator.
I was mildly impressed that Vanessa managed to glare back at Granada, her face flushed and furious, even though she was clearly speechless.
Even if it's absurd every time, at least she's consistent in acting like she owns the place.
Hadn't Kavala chosen Vanessa specifically for her stubborn tenacity?
Granada completely ignored Vanessa and turned to me with practical advice.
"After you've finished your morning preparations, you should take a walk. Moving about in the sunlight will warm you up much faster than staying cooped up inside."
I clutched the blanket Vanessa had tried to pull away and wrapped it tighter around myself, looking up at Granada with suspicious eyes.
"Wouldn't it be colder if I went outside in this weather?"
"If you just curl up and stay shut in your room, you'll only grow colder."
Without waiting for my response, Granada strode across the room and threw open the window shutters and glass panes.
Cold air rushed into the room like a flood.
I pulled the blanket even tighter and curled into myself instinctively.
But then—
I lifted my head, almost entranced, as a fresh, crisp scent spread through the room on the winter breeze.
It was the same scent that clung to Callius.
"The air is so refreshing..."
As if possessed, I threw off the blanket, climbed out of bed, and walked to the window.
Though the air was bitingly cold, I felt better instantly as I took deep breaths of that clear, cool wind.
I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and opened them again—
"...!"
I gasped, covering my mouth with both hands.
The view spreading out below the window left me completely speechless.
It was breathtaking.
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