55. The Bite Mark on a Pale Hand.
At dawn, before the sun rose, news spread across the Baloch territory that the commanders had been summoned overnight.
Bianca, who woke up to the news, felt her blood run cold.
“Already? So soon?”
“It seems so.”
Even Julie, who rarely stopped smiling, now had an unusually serious expression.
“So, when are they leaving?”
“Not yet. They’ve just discovered the signs, so I suppose they’ll depart in three or four days at most.”
“And the fortress repairs?”
“They’re expected to be completed by noon tomorrow. The relocation zones should also be ready by tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Well, they’ll have to be finished before it starts snowing again.”
At Julie’s words, Bianca glanced out the window. It was hard to believe that snow was expected soon—it was such a bright and clear day.
There wasn’t a single dark cloud in sight, and if not for the occasional breeze, one could forget it was winter.
“I hope it doesn’t snow for a while.”
“Indeed. But there’s no avoiding it. The Duke’s predictions have never been wrong.”
Bianca wondered if such foresight was an ability one gained by becoming the Duke of the North—or if it was something unique to Baloch itself.
She nodded silently, marveling at the thought.
Still, it was reassuring that the fortress repairs and relocation efforts would be completed before the snow came.
“It’s a relief. That’s good.”
“Yes, but… I’m worried about the snow returning.”
“Why?”
“Well… The relocation zones only provide the bare minimum space…”
“Julie.”
At Julie’s sigh, Rappin, who had been silent, spoke as if to stop her.
“What’s going on? Tell me.”
Something about it felt impossible to ignore, so Bianca gently coaxed Julie, who stubbornly refused to speak.
Finally, after glancing nervously at Rappin, Julie hesitated and opened her mouth.
“They weren’t able to build stoves.”
“What?”
The absurdity of the statement slipped out of Bianca’s lips without thinking.
“They were in such a rush to finish the relocation before the snow that they couldn’t take the time to build stoves. They just divided up the sections.”
“Then… How will they stay warm?”
“I don’t know. Without chimneys, they can’t light fires inside. We don’t know how this will go, and they can’t just endure it outside the fortress grounds. Especially not with snow on the way.”
This wasn’t just a matter of concern—it was a looming disaster.
But Jillian, who had to prepare for the expedition, couldn’t afford to deal with it himself. Neglecting the wave because of concerns about the cold wasn’t an option either.
“This is my responsibility.”
“Pardon?”
“Is the Duke still in his office? Is the meeting over?”
“The meeting ended at dawn.”
Bianca stood up immediately.
Without even needing to ask, it was clear where she was headed.
When she reached Jillian, she made just one request.
“I want to help the relocated residents who’ll be in the fortress during the wave.”
Her determination was firm, her tone resolute, leaving no room for refusal.
“I don’t mean to invite countless residents into the main estate. Once the wave begins, I promise I won’t leave the main castle—not even a step. It’d be better if I could take a look myself, but if that worries you, I won’t go out.”
Jillian gave a faint smile at the sight of Bianca, her cheeks flushed, passionately asserting her intentions.
“Anything else?”
“And… I won’t act directly. I’ll limit it to providing supplies.”
“Fine.”
“What?”
“I said, go ahead.”
Jillian rose from his seat, gently clasping Bianca’s hands, which were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“You may do whatever you wish, as long as it’s not dangerous.”
“…”
“I’ve told you before, haven’t I? This is your home, and you are the mistress of Baloch.”
“I know, but… I don’t want to trouble you.”
“Who ever said you were troubling? My queen.”
As he raised her hand slowly to his lips, meeting her gaze directly, Bianca couldn’t move an inch.
She could only watch as his vividly colored lips pressed firmly against her pale hand, leaving warmth that wasn’t her own.
It was a small act, yet the way his languid eyes curved made it feel indecent, and Bianca felt her neck flush with heat.
“What are you…?”
Before she could finish, Jillian bit down on her hand lightly.
“Hey! Don’t—don’t bite me!”
Startled, Bianca let out a sharp cry and tried to pull her hand away, but it didn’t budge.
Though his grip appeared loose, her hand was immovable.
“Who dared to make you feel this way?”
For a moment, Elizabeth’s face flashed in her mind, but this wasn’t about her.
“No one! No one! It was just me.”
Bianca pointed to herself, knowing he wouldn’t believe any other answer.
“I just felt bad about doing nothing. I didn’t want to cause any trouble and make you hate—”
“How could I ever?”
He released her hand, his voice tinged with self-reproach, then whispered softly while gazing at her flushed face.
“My queen. Please, don’t say such things.”
Though his smile was relaxed, there was still a trace of desperation in his expression.
Seeing this, Bianca slowly nodded.
***
The bite mark on her pale hand stood out vividly.
“What happened to your hand?”
Julie, who had been waiting outside the office, pointed to Bianca’s hand as soon as she saw her.
“There’s a red mark on it…”
“I was bitten.”
It was undeniably a bite mark. Bianca didn’t bother hiding it and confessed bluntly.
“What?”
“He just bit me out of nowhere because I was being too careful.”
There was no better way to explain it. But maybe she shouldn’t have said anything—both Julie and Rappin’s faces twisted oddly.
Bianca, who was the one bitten, could only smile awkwardly when Elizabeth appeared silently before her.
“Good day.”
“So, we meet again. Here to see Jillian?”
“Yes.”
“They say the wave will begin soon. You must be busy. Don’t worry—he won’t bite you like he did me.”
Bianca raised her hand and smiled.
The excessive pleading from Jillian the previous night was meant to be a demonstration for the ‘commanders.’
It was a rite of passage to have her, a princess of Termina, accepted as a member of Baloch.
That was why the mark on her hand had been mentioned.
She wanted to respond to Jillian Baloch’s efforts, particularly in a way that might catch the attention of Elizabeth Swan, the commander of the sixth fortress, who harbored resentment.
When Elizabeth’s face contorted into a frown of outright disgust, Bianca briefly wondered if she had gone too far.
However, she did not regret it.
“Well then,” Bianca nodded briefly and took a step forward before Elizabeth could say anything further.
She felt the burning gaze on her back as she walked away, but Bianca did not turn around to acknowledge it.
Elizabeth had never addressed her as “Duchess” or even “Madam.” She had refused to recognize Bianca as the mistress of Baloch.
What better way to assert her position than to showcase her close relationship with Jillian, the master of Baloch?
“He said I could do whatever I wanted.”
Though Bianca felt embarrassed in hindsight, she decided it was better than being bitten by Jillian.
***
Upon inspection, the hastily built relocation spaces were in terrible condition—barely more than survival shelters surrounded by walls.
No windows, no chimneys—just enclosed spaces with sturdy stone walls that trapped intense cold within.
Bianca briefly considered reinforcing the walls with wood, but that would take too much time. Snow was predicted to begin falling the very next day.
The clear sky made her doubt the forecast, but no one in Baloch ever questioned the accuracy of his weather predictions.
Bianca herself was skeptical. But ultimately, she abandoned the assumption that the weather might remain clear the day after tomorrow.
It was best to prepare for the worst to avoid heavier burdens later.
Could she find a way to ease the cold in just one day?
Sharing blankets from the duke’s castle and diligently heating soup seemed to be the only options.
Suddenly, Bianca’s gaze fell to the ground. The soft, white fur reaching her ankles—it was giant rabbit pelts.
Bianca’s eyes lit up.
Wasn’t it these very pelts that had made the cold bearable when the fireplaces had failed?
However, these were items Jillian had specifically procured for her. Could she strip them all away and redistribute them?
“Do whatever you feel is necessary.”
Her hesitation didn’t last long. Bianca immediately summoned the steward and the head maid.
By that afternoon, the castle’s servants were busy removing the rabbit pelts from the floors.
Even the carefully nailed-down pieces meant to prevent slipping were pried loose, and the seams where they had been joined were cut with scissors.
“Are you saying not even a single piece should be left?”
But when the servants reached Bianca’s bedroom, they hesitated. Or rather, they resisted.
They hid their small scissors behind their backs and tried to push the half-filled carts away.
“What if we just leave the bedroom as it is?”
Even Hailey, who had been the most eager to help, tried to dissuade Bianca.
But Bianca remained resolute.
“This one coat is enough for me.”
She gestured to the coat she was wearing—crafted by Jillian and tanned by Hailey.
“And besides, there’s a fireplace in here.”
At Bianca’s firm insistence, the servants could no longer argue. Even the softest and finest pelts covering her bedroom floor were stripped away.
Before sunset, the pelts had been distributed evenly across the relocation areas.
The migrants, arriving in their designated sections, were astonished to find the giant rabbit pelts waiting for them.
“The duchess provided these, but they will be collected after the wave ends,” a knight explained in a stern voice to prevent misunderstandings.
Yet, the migrants couldn’t hide their gratitude.
“My goodness, giant rabbit pelts! I’ve only ever heard of them.”
“This is unbelievable. Did they really distribute one for each person?”
“Just wrapping myself in it is already making me warm.”
Those who had been considering starting fires outside their sections to keep warm began to feel relieved.
***
As night fell, heavy, moisture-laden snowflakes began to pour down like hail.
Thud. Thud.
“Sir Knight, what should we do?”
Merchants trapped in the northern territory, having missed their chance to leave, were on the verge of tears as they complained.
While the rabbit pelts distributed by the duchess were abundant, there were not enough to extend to outsiders.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The enormous snowflakes, resembling their falling despair, blanketed the heads of the damp and shivering merchants.
