Chapter 4

The Grand Duchess of the North, I Can’t Do This Because It’s Too Cold

“What did you tie this so tightly for?”

At this rate, we’re both going to have marks around our wrists.

Mikhail showed no sign of waking, so I lightly tapped his head to rouse him. He cracked his eyes open, then suddenly jolted in surprise and hurriedly began untying the cloth around our wrists. I’d already seen it anyway… What an absurd reaction.

He sprang to his feet and smoothed down his disheveled hair. Once he seemed to have calmed down, he snapped his fingers, apparently signaling someone. What was that about?

I was still confused when, in an instant, a swarm of maids came rushing into the room.

“W-What is all this?”

“It is medicine to warm your body, Your Grace.”

Apparently, it was a medicine painstakingly imported from another country, famous for its effectiveness. The head maid, who had been standing at the front with a rather sinister smile, shoved a horrifying-looking liquid toward my mouth.

‘Ugh, it tastes…’

The medicine tasted exactly as awful as it looked.

I thought that would finally be the end of it, but the maids began forcing all sorts of terrible-tasting things down my throat.

I-I’m going to die…!

Just when I thought the torture was over, they forcibly put earmuffs on me, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and even made me wear two pairs of gloves.

It was more excessive than usual and rather suffocating, but somehow, I’d grown accustomed to the outfit.

The others were gathered around a gigantic fireplace, frantically fanning the flames in an attempt to make the fire burn even hotter.

And Mikhail was watching the whole spectacle with an extremely proud expression.

He really was impossible to figure out.

“Mikhail.”

“Why? Are you still cold? Wait a moment. You there! Fan the fire a little more…”

“Ah, no! It’s warm enough now. I’m just a little overwhelmed at the moment. Could you have everyone leave?”

Mikhail paused at my words, looking slightly disappointed.

Meanwhile, perhaps everyone noticed Mikhail’s mood, because they all stopped what they were doing and filed out of the room.

They must have had plenty of experience reading his expression.

In the end, the room was completely cleared without Mikhail having to give a single order.

It was a terrifying level of teamwork.

“There are still things left to do.”

He looked so gloomy with that frightening face of his.

It really didn’t suit him at all.

And just how could someone like him have the nerve to tie my wrists so tightly?

“First, explain this.”

“……”

“Ah, and also tell me when you came into my bedroom.”

I lifted the cloth Mikhail had hurriedly untied earlier.

Whatever the case, he owed me an explanation for this.

“It’s not what you think.”

“What exactly is ‘what I think’? That you tied me up because you were afraid I’d run away again?”

“No, I told you, that’s not it. The doctor said holding your hand would help you maintain your body temperature…”

The doctor?

I blinked at the unexpected answer.

‘I naturally assumed he’d tied me up because he was afraid I’d run away again.’

I’d come straight back to my room, rested for a while, and promptly passed out. Yet this man had gone to see the doctor in the middle of the night.

So that’s why there had been such a commotion first thing in the morning.

And on top of that, he’d simply held my hand the way the doctor had instructed.

He hadn’t even bothered me throughout the night.

I looked up at Mikhail with an expression of surprise.

‘What is this strange feeling?’

A certain scene was vaguely taking shape in my mind.

Right. The scene where Mikhail grabs the heroine Mabel by the chin and confesses his feelings.

“You’re mine. You’d better understand that you can’t leave my side for even a moment.”

He had said it with a confident smile, or something along those lines.

Ugh.

Even then, my hands and feet had curled up in embarrassment, and they still wouldn’t uncurl now.

Anyway, the Mikhail who was currently flustered and at a loss was worlds apart from my interpretation of his character.

Author, just how dark did you make this man…?

“And I tied you up because I was afraid I’d lose hold of your hand while I was sleeping. There was absolutely no other intention.”

I noticed that Mikhail’s ears had turned slightly red as he avoided my gaze.

Seeing him react so innocently was starting to embarrass me too.

Right.

A future obsessive male lead with severe affection deprivation had merely tied my wrist to his.

I suppose he’d been exercising a great deal of restraint.

Just as I reached that conclusion, Mikhail cautiously sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand over mine.

“Aisha.”

His low voice brushed against my ears.

‘He often calls me by my name when we’re alone.’

Perhaps the awful medicine I’d taken earlier was starting to take effect, because my body was becoming languid and my thoughts kept wandering.

“I’ll make sure you stay warm.”

So you won’t leave me.

His eyes, filled with sincerity, sparkled in the cold morning sunlight.

It should have been nothing more than a casual promise, perhaps even one made out of a sense of responsibility.

And yet, strangely, his tenderness made me feel self-conscious.

That night, after returning to his room, Mikhail fell into deep thought alone.

Aisha’s voice still echoed in his mind.

‘I’m cold! I said I’m cold!’

So that really was all there was to it.

Muttering to himself, Mikhail dropped heavily into a chair.

‘How can someone run away from home twice just because she’s cold?’

He simply couldn’t understand it.

Mikhail had been born and raised in the North and had never once felt cold.

Even when he’d traveled to the capital or the South a few times, he’d done nothing but sweat profusely.

There was no way he could understand Aisha’s constitution.

Consequently, it had never even occurred to him that the cold of the North might be painful for her.

Likewise, he hadn’t thought much of what the doctor had told him.

He’d simply assumed that the problem would soon be solved if they paid a little more attention to heating the room.

Mikhail pressed a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

‘No. Let’s be honest.’

The truth was, he hadn’t trusted her.

Without a doubt, all of this had stemmed from that distrust and the misunderstanding it had caused.

Mikhail suddenly remembered their wedding day, which had passed without much fanfare.

Then an unwelcome face flashed through his mind.

Daven Moltian, who claimed to be Aisha’s childhood friend.

Mikhail began recalling the conversation they’d shared.

‘You moved things along rather quickly. I would have taken care of it myself.’

As always, Daven had been smiling, but there had been an unusual weight behind his voice.

Before leaving, he’d left Mikhail with one final remark.

‘You’ll regret it.’

‘……’

‘You really don’t understand, do you? How your pitiful act of charity, mixed with pity, will feel to the person on the receiving end.’

Mikhail hated to admit it, but Daven’s warning had been exactly right.

After their marriage, Aisha, whom he had believed he’d rescued, looked more miserable than anyone.

It wasn’t Mikhail’s fault.

Exhausted by everything life had thrown at her, she’d simply chosen to shut herself away in her room like a doll.

But the moment Mikhail met those lifeless eyes, he’d instinctively understood Daven’s warning.

He had felt as though she resented him.

His wife.

He had assumed that everything—from her collapsing repeatedly to her desire to go to the South—was because she hated him.

Of course, Mikhail, who had spent his entire life putting himself first, hadn’t cared.

He had intended to keep Aisha by his side regardless.

“What a mess.”

He was consumed by the shame of having been unable to trust his own wife because of such petty emotions.

And then an even greater sense of self-reproach washed over him.

Even in the midst of all this, he was beginning to feel relieved that she hadn’t abandoned him.

The deeply troubled expression on his face gradually began to soften.

‘She… doesn’t hate me?’

If she wasn’t cold—if they could only solve the problem of the cold—then perhaps she might never leave his side again.

The corners of Mikhail’s lips trembled slightly before he abruptly shot to his feet.

Without hesitation, Mikhail headed for the room where the estate’s physician was staying.

“Tell me what I need to do.”

For the physician, who had been sleeping peacefully, this was nothing short of a bolt from the blue.

Still wearing his pajamas, the physician trembled as he lowered himself onto the sofa opposite Mikhail.

Still barely awake, he began babbling whatever came to mind.

“F-First of all, Her Grace needs to take medicine that warms the body every day. Her body temperature must be quite low, so she should always wear a scarf, gloves, a scarf, socks, and…”

The physician rambled on for quite some time.

Then, he suddenly found it strange that Mikhail was listening so intently.

Just a few days ago, when his wife had collapsed, Mikhail hadn’t seemed genuinely concerned.

The physician couldn’t help wondering what had suddenly gotten into him.

“What works best?”

“……Hmm. Since maintaining body temperature is the most important thing, I suppose it would be best for her to regularly share body heat with someone.”

“What?”

A murderous aura descended upon the physician unlike anything he’d experienced before.

Mikhail was resting his chin on his hand, staring straight at him with terrifying eyes.

“W-W-What I meant by ‘share body heat’ was—!”

The physician had merely stated a fact, yet he found himself making excuses without even understanding why.

Mikhail quietly listened to his rambling explanation before abruptly rising from his seat and heading toward the door.

The physician watched his retreating back in terror.

Then Mikhail stopped.

He turned slightly back toward him, making the physician flinch once again.

“You’ll come back for another examination in a few days, won’t you?”

“Y-Yes, yes! Of course! I’ll make absolutely sure to—”

Watching the physician practically prostrate himself, Mikhail fell into deep thought.

He had a feeling this might be an excellent treatment method.

“When you come back, you’d better say what you just said in front of my wife and me.”

If you want to live.

With that chilling final remark, Mikhail calmly disappeared.

The physician, who had no idea what any of this was about, could only mourn the fact that he probably wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.