RODH Side Story Chapter 8

Side Story 8. The Life of Newlyweds

Ian quickly calculated.

He was on the third floor of the Grand Duke’s estate. It would take more time for the knights to reach him here.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the wyvern, Ian spoke to Blony.

“Don’t scream. Move slowly toward the door.”

After a few deep breaths, Blony nodded.

Ian released his hand from her mouth, and together they began to move cautiously.

The monster’s yellow eyes followed every step they took.

The two of them crossed the floor strewn with shards and debris, carefully placing each foot.

Then the beast rammed its head inward, trying to force its way deeper inside.

“Kyaaak!”

“Blony. Stay calm. The wyvern cannot hurt us.”

Ian could say this with certainty.

The estate, aside from the rooms, was reinforced with special material that even monsters could not easily destroy.

Ian silently thanked Berkisto for having left him with such small but useful knowledge.

He grabbed Blony’s rigid waist and guided her toward the door.

“Kieeeek!”

The monster thrashed and shoved, but as Ian had predicted, it could not break through so easily.

Taking Blony’s trembling hand in his, Ian swiftly evacuated with her.

He placed the cloak he had been wearing back around her shoulders.

At that moment, Klain and the knights arrived.

Klain rushed forward to assess the situation.

“Are you unharmed?”

“I’m fine. But Blony seems quite shaken.”

Klain let out a short sigh.

“I will assign you another attendant.”

He silently wondered if there even existed an attendant who wouldn’t be frightened by such an ordeal.

“Captain, the wyvern is trying to break free.”

“Then excuse me.”

Klain headed back toward the half-destroyed chamber.

The creature’s shrieks rang louder than before.

Ian joined the butlers and attendants evacuating to the first floor with Blony.

Soon Luke’s voice called out to him.

“Ian, are you alright?”

“I’m unharmed. Though it was a bit close.”

“A bit, you say?”

Before Ian could answer, Blony, now calmer, reported in detail.

“The wyvern suddenly broke in. The Grand Duchess nearly became its meal! What were the guards doing?”

Luke gave a sheepish, embarrassed look, fumbling for words.

“Well, we had been watching that strange wyvern too. But who could’ve guessed it would go straight for the estate?”

Ian cut in.

“Doesn’t the estate have protective magic stones?”

“They exist, but they don’t function.”

“Then perhaps this is the time to replace them. The estate can’t keep being smashed apart like this.”

Ian remembered that something similar had happened during his very first visit to the Grand Duke’s estate.

But Luke gave him an unexpected answer.

“We tried replacing them, but it was useless. The sorcerers say Anna Tuatla is blocking them.”

“I see.”

Was it truly Anna Tuatla’s doing?

Ian couldn’t shake the feeling that something unknown lingered within the estate itself.

But where was Nevan?

Hearing the bell that signaled safety, Ian left Blony to rest and stepped outside.

Shivering in the cold, he picked up a discarded cloak—he didn’t even know whose it was.

The wyvern, which had been thrashing moments before, now lay on the ground, chained and still.

Nearby, Nevan was giving commands, his face and body spattered with what looked like monster blood.

Ian waited until Nevan caught his breath.

There was nothing he could do here. He could help with rebuilding later, but not now.

After giving orders to his retainers and knights, Nevan turned, sensing a gaze on him.

How long had Ian been standing there?

Nevan excused himself from the others and went straight to him.

Ian stood there wrapped in a standard-issue knight’s cloak, his nose and fingertips flushed red.

“Ian.”

Nevan moved to crush him in an embrace, then stopped—his body was covered in blood.

Sometimes he wondered if his marriage to Ian was a dream. But the hot spray of monster blood always reminded him it was reality.

That he had been given far more than he deserved.

Instead, Nevan pulled off his gloves and brushed Ian’s cheek.

Like a cat being groomed, Ian’s face softened.

Sweet honey-like pheromones mingled with Nevan’s cool forest scent.

They spoke in pheromones.

There was no need for words or endless questions. None of that mattered.

“Tell me it’s all monster blood, Nevan.”

“It is all monster blood.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Luke told me. You weren’t hurt?”

Or frightened?

Nevan knew better than anyone that Ian was not fragile.

But a strong heart did not mean it could never break.

Like a sturdy tree that still snapped under pressure, Ian could be extreme at times.

Nevan often wondered what had shaped him that way, but he didn’t want to risk hurting him by asking.

The Demon Lord was gone, yet Ian had come to Ferost without hesitation, even with monsters still roaming.

Nevan wanted only to make him happy.

To keep him from pain, from fear.

Then Ian beamed and asked,

“How did you capture a flying wyvern? I saw hook-like weapons. Did you use those?”

His reaction was completely different from when the beast had attacked.

Of course.

Someone else’s tale of slaying a monster was enough to make Ian’s heart race.

Knights in gleaming silver armor, shabby but skilled adventurers, slaying monsters the size of houses…

Ian’s green eyes sparkled.

“Can I go see it up close?”

Begging so earnestly, Nevan could not refuse.

Any other noble youth would have been terrified—but Ian was different.

Surely he didn’t have a taste for monster corpses.

Still, Nevan escorted him to examine the wyvern’s remains.

“It’s about a quarter the size of this building, with very tough hide. Its teeth and jaw look sharp enough to slice clean through.”

The wings reminded him faintly of Lucian’s, but he kept that thought to himself.

Speak of the devil, and he might appear.

Ian circled the carcass eagerly, examining it from all sides.

The northern knights looked on, their reactions much like Nevan’s.

“The Grand Duchess truly is… unlike anyone else.”

“He seems to greatly enjoy listening to tales of this sort.”

“Then perhaps we should open the western archives to him?”

Nevan nodded as he watched Ian glow with childlike excitement.

* * *

[*Problems

First, why do the protective magic stones in the Grand Duke’s estate not activate?

Second, will tonight really be the wedding night….]

Ian couldn’t bring himself to write the last words, and crumpled the paper to pieces.

Because the Grand Duchess’s chambers had been wrecked, until they were restored, Ian would be sharing a room with Nevan.

Naturally, the one most delighted by this news was Luke.

“If only an heir comes soon, then my life’s greatest wish will be fulfilled.”

“Don’t put unnecessary pressure on us.”

“Still, sharing the same room will surely make you closer, won’t it?”

Blony, who had been shivering on the first floor, had by now returned to tending the garden, and chimed into their talk.

“Just imagine how adorable the heir will be. A little lord, or a little lady. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“It’s too soon to speak of that.”

“Well, you never know. Perhaps the power of pheromones will bring you two together.”

While the others were chatting like that, Ian was quietly inspecting Nevan’s room.

It was spacious enough for one, and just the right size for two to share.

Ian fiddled with a vase, picking it up and putting it down again.

Nevan was likely still outside, making his rounds of the territory.

“I’ll be back before it’s late.”

A husband who even told him his working hours.

Ian felt grateful, though at the same time, his heart tingled oddly.

And then—why did the memory of Nevan’s nearly open-fronted robe, the one he had seen while in ferret form, suddenly come to mind?

Naturally, Ian’s heart began to pound and his face flushed hot.

“Pure thoughts, good thoughts.”

He chanted it like a spell as he stepped into Nevan’s dressing room.

Inside were nothing but ceremonial robes for special occasions and suits for daily wear.

For reasons he could not explain, Ian leaned close and pressed his nose into the fabric of both robe and suit.

The earthy scent of a winter forest, mixed with Nevan’s unique, sharp fragrance, lingered there.

Ian should have stopped there.

But inevitably, his hand reached out and touched Nevan’s clothes.