TYND 30
by CherryFortunately, there was no need to delay their arrival date any further. As soon as the news of Theon’s return had circulated, the northern region had moved swiftly; prioritizing the repair of the warp portal nearest to the archduke’s estate. Thanks to that effort, Theon arrived home on the eighth, five days earlier than the planned date of thirteenth. At the estate, the families of the Black Lion Knights had gathered to wait. The moment they saw their sons, daughters, siblings, or parents, they ran forward, calling their names in voice thick with tears.
As they embraced and wept in joy over their reunions, Theon stood apart, alone.
Home, after fifteen years.
He hadn’t expected to be overcome with emotions or swept up in sentimentality.
“Your Grace… seeing you grown, you really resemble your grandfather.”
“How could you not visit the North all this time…? Though, I understand how you must’ve felt…”
“You’ve endured so much. Please, take some time to rest now…”
Theon simply watched in silence as Falsen’s retainers, who’d managed the estate in his stead, grew misty-eyed. Throughout the welcoming ceremony, he remained composed. If anything, meeting so many people and enduring the endless formalities of the ceremony made him quietly regret returning so early. His sinking mood lifted slightly as the grand evening banquet approached.
The banquet was attended only by relatives of Falsen lineage and trusted retainers of the house, with Theon seating Rothy ride beside him.
“For the Krypin, you can eat the meat just by peeling off the outer shell. No, I’ll separate it for you.”
“You sprinkle lemon juice on the grilled Hayoo mushrooms. It’s been a while since I’ve had these myself.”
“Northern lamb tends to be tough. Make sure to chew thoroughly.”
Theon personally peeled the hard crab shells, squeezed lemon juice, and tore the lamb into bite-sized pieces. What improved his mood was simply the act of introducing Rothy to Northern cuisine. In the capital, the food had been luxurious, but Rothy’s stomach hadn’t been able to handle it. During their journey here, though his health had improved, the conditions weren’t suited for lavish meals. Theon wasn’t someone who cared about the taste of food, but he wanted Rothy to eat only the best.
Watching him now, cheeks puffed as he diligently chewed the food Theon offered, filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction.
Meanwhile…those witnessing the scene struggled to keep their composure. Their gazes trembled like candles flickering in a gust of wind.
Is he genuinely holding that glass of water ready, so the child can drink as soon as he finishes chewing? This ‘Demon of Seará’…?
Even the plates on the table were noticeably arranged closer to the boy, and none of the other diners dared to touch them. Everyone already knew that the archduke had married a boy named Rothy.
They said Lord Yolone left a will for His Grace, asking him to marry his young disciple and take care of him for life.
While initially surprised, the retainers came to welcome the arrangement. There’d be no succession disputes since a male consort couldn’t produce heirs, and having Yolone Sirin’s only disciple becoming a part of the North carried significant meaning since he was also the youngest archmage in history.
From a practical standpoint, it was a marriage that greatly benefited the North.
Given Theon’s reputation for never doing anything he disliked, his willingness to marry for the sake of the North had been surprising. But watching him fuss over the boy like this stirred entirely different suspicions.
Could it be…
Could it really be…
Did… the archduke… perhaps fathered a child?!
Perhaps he’d a child with someone during the war, but since the grand ducal family already had an heir, he used Yolone Sirin as a cover to conceal the boy’s true identity.
It was a plausible assumption. However, they quickly dismissed the idea.
The boy had fluffy white hair, large round green eyes, and skin as pale as snow—he looked exactly like the snow fairies described in the fairy tales every Northerner grew up reading. In contrast, the grand ducal family had always been known for their black hair, ranging in shades but always black. Pure white hair wasn’t just improbable—it was impossible.
The boy wasn’t the archduke’s biological child. Then why on earth was he doting on him like that? Most at the table had little to no battlefield experience, but they’d all heard about how fiercely Theon fought during the war. The soldiers returning from the frontlines due to injuries or other reasons spoke of him with awe and trepidation.
Seeing him tear through the demons was enough to terrify even our own allies.
Seeing his black hair soaked in blood would make your skin crawl even from a distance, and meeting his blood-red eyes would send shivers down your spine.
Even when he’s just sitting there silently, he’s terrifying. Sometimes, His Grace’s scarier than the demons. There’s a reason why he’s called the ‘Demon of Seará’.
Stories like that had fanned their fear, but now, looking at the so-called Demon of Seará… it was hard to believe this was the same Theon Detre Falsen they thought they knew.
“Are you full? Don’t force yourself to eat if you’re not hungry.”
When the boy’s spoon slowed noticeably, Theon reached over and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his movements gentle, almost tender.
Since today’s his first day back, let’s just let him eat in peace. We’ll ask about the archduchess later.
Agreed. His Grace will probably explain everything before we even get the chance to ask.
The loyal retainers of House Falsen reached their decision and continued with the banquet. But at the far end of the table, one boy was different.
…The fuck. Where did that scrappy mutt crawl in from?
The boy, with Falsen’s signature black hair and sharp hazel eyes, glared at Rothy, his gaze burning with barely contained disdain. On the day of Theon’s return, a full moon hung over the skies of Falsen. It wasn’t unique to Falsen—wherever you went in the empire, the full moon was there. But to the devout Northerners, the fact that Seará’s symbol lit the sky on the very day Theon returned after fifteen years struck them as a divine omen.
To Theon, who wasn’t a believer of Seará, it was just an ordinary full moon. He’d seen plenty of it on the battlefield. What made his return feel real now were the spotless furniture and carefully arranged decorations in his room, untouched by a single speck of dust.
I’m really back.
Freed from the chaos, the realisation finally sank in. At one point, he’d thought the war would never end. At another, he’d feared it’d end in their defeat. But now, the war was over, and peace had arrived.
But it’s a peace that came at a terrible price.
Rothy.
And the thirty-two small bodies that’d emerged from the laboratory. Whether this truth would be recorded in history or buried forever, no one could say. But those who’d seen the corpses with their own eyes could never forget that this peace was brought with horrific sacrifices.
Theon closed the window and drew the curtains. Thanks to the lights in the room, it remained bright.
Rustle
A noise was heard from the adjoining room. Theon, who’d been sitting in a chair waiting, rose with a smile. However, the smile vanished as he reached the door. He knocked twice on the door connecting to the adjoining room, sensing a startled movement from the other side.
Though no formal wedding had taken place, and their union wasn’t publicly announced, Rothy was officially the grand duchess and had been assigned the bedroom adjoining the archduke’s. Theon had a duty to protect Rothy, and the easiest place to do so was right beside him. That was why he’d instructed Rothy to come to his room once he was ready for bed.
“Rothy, have you changed?”
“Y—yes, I have.”
“Then why haven’t you come in? As we discussed, we’ll sleep here together.”
“The door won’t open.”
A rattling sound came from the door. The handle turned but wouldn’t open. Theon almost forced it open before remembering something from his childhood—his father explaining that the archduke and archduchess chambers were connected by a door with a simple latch. Looking at the lower part of the wall beside the door, he found the latch.
“There’s a latch on the wall left of the door. Move it to the right to unlock it.”
There was another rattling, and soon the door opened. Rothy appeared shyly, dressed in comfortable Northern-style sleepwear. Looking every bit like a snow fairy, Theon scooped him up and sat him on the bed.
“From now on, we’ll sleep here together, so come to my chamber at night. This will be our secret.”
“Understood… Even from Chungnip?”
“You can tell Chungnip and Ultje. They already know.”
“Understood… Can I bring Chi-chi as well?”
“Of course, but why’re you being so polite?”
The sudden change in tone made him wonder if someone had scolded Rothy in his absence. Fidgeting his fingers, Rothy replied.
“But if I speak casually to you here, people might think it’s strange…”
So it wasn’t that someone reprimanded him—Rothy had simply observed the atmosphere and adjusted his speech accordingly.