SM Chapter 64

64. Can You Endure This Cold?

 

Boom. Boom. 

The tremors shaking the ground spread not only through the fortress but across the entire Baloch territory—far, far beyond, even reaching past the ice wall where the Grace Worms had emerged.

Boom. 

The subtle quakes rippling through the earth disturbed even the massive shadow curled up beyond the ice wall.

Beyond that wall was a land no human could cross.

A place where light, sound—everything—was absent. And yet, for the first time, something reached that still and silent place.

Boom. 

It was a faint, almost fragile tremor, but in that world of absolute sensory deprivation, nothing could be more intense.

Boom. 

The barely perceptible vibrations cutting through the darkness stirred the silence awake.

It was at that moment that Jillian lifted his gaze toward the distant north, toward the ice wall.

“Ah.”

The man exhaled a breath so white it matched his pale, drained face.

 

***

 

Was this really okay?

For the first time, Bianca began to doubt the wedding after hearing Julie’s words.

A wedding that had never once been held in all of history.

The Duchess of Baloch who had always forbidden social gatherings.

Bianca had, in every way, been acting in complete opposition to the previous duchesses’ rigid, ascetic, and secluded ways—whether she intended to or not.

A dull ache throbbed in her head.

She now understood Elizabeth’s sharp, almost combative attitude a little better.

It was no wonder Elizabeth had been so frustrated and outraged.

‘The former duchesses never even stepped out of their chambers once the Wave began!’

Her voice, thick with resentment, rang in her head.

She knew this was a problem. And yet, Bianca had no desire to call off the wedding.

That was why her head ached so much.

“When spring comes, I will fill this place with white lisianthus.”

For Bianca, a woman born into sin, the promise of a man willing to celebrate the day she became his was far too sweet to let go.

What if it was just the two of them? In secret?

Her mind spun with foolish ‘alternatives.’

She knew the truth.

This wedding was something that should never happen.

Not only would it be a major stain within Baloch itself, but the biggest issue was the attention it would draw from the imperial court.

Hadn’t Jillian smashed down a palace as punishment for just unsettling ‘his wife’s’ peace?

If they held a grand wedding now—something unlike anything before—it was only a matter of time before someone used it as an excuse to shake their foundation.

Bianca exhaled deeply, her breath feeling heavy and thick.

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?”

Bianca lifted her head at Hailey’s voice.

Only then did she realize she had been selecting fabric for her wedding dress. That was how this entire spiral of thoughts had begun.

“Ah…”

“It’s really difficult.”

“…”

“The pros and cons of each fabric are so distinct that choosing just one is nearly impossible. If we go for sheen, we lose warmth. If we prioritize warmth, the colors become dull.”

Hailey rubbed her chin, clearly deep in thought.

“…A wedding dress.”

“Yes?”

“Do I really… need to wear one?”

“You can’t be giving up already.”

Hailey, assuming Bianca’s worries were the same as her own, showed a determined expression.

“If you’re struggling this much, should we call in the merchants?”

“The merchants?”

“Yes, the designers here in the north are skilled, but they are a bit behind compared to the capital. However, merchants travel all over the continent. They bring fresher ideas.”

But…

“I heard about yesterday. I’m sure they learned their lesson, so today should be better.”

Today, I’ll be here with you, too.

If she was so worried about deviating from the past duchesses’ ways, then should she really be ordering a wedding dress and planning a ceremony?

She should ask that question—right now—to Hailey.

But Bianca did not call her back.

She knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Soon after, the merchants arrived.

Unlike yesterday, there were quite a few of them, and they all moved cautiously.

Because of this, Bianca was able to get the information she needed quickly and clearly.

There was no subtle tension or underlying hostility—just a perfectly professional ‘consultation.’

And in Bianca’s hands, what remained was a soft, ivory-colored fabric.

“This is the most commonly used fabric in spring. It’s smooth to the touch, has a bit of elasticity, and doesn’t wrinkle easily. The threads are strong, making it easy to shape.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it’s widely used for spring ball gowns.”

The merchant spoke with confidence.

“This fabric is from Cartan. Since its import quantity is limited, noblewomen always seek it out. There’s no better choice.”

“Ah, from Cartan.”

Anything from the Land of Plenty was bound to be of exceptional quality.

As much as she didn’t like to admit it, Bianca was a princess.

She had never enjoyed luxury, but she had seen and heard a lot.

Hearing the merchant’s words, she suddenly recalled the dresses made from Cartan fabric—gowns adorned with finely crushed gemstones or embroidered in gold and silver thread, worn by noble daughters in spring.

Lavish, voluminous dresses, brimming with extravagant decorations.

She hadn’t realized it was this fabric at the time.

But now that she heard it, she remembered.

“May I touch it?”

“Of course.”

The man carefully held out the fabric’s edge, rubbing it between his fingers.

Then, as if confirming something, he took a step back.

“This one will do. You can leave the design to someone with a good eye.”

“Thank you.”

“I am only happy to be of service.”

The merchant bowed politely, and those who had accompanied him did the same, their movements disciplined and respectful.

Watching them, Bianca suddenly frowned.

“One person is missing.”

“Ah!”

As if struck by lightning, the merchant trembled and suddenly fell to his knees.

“I didn’t realize you meant for everyone to come.”

“And why is that?”

“We heard that someone offended you yesterday.”

“…So you deliberately left him out?”

“Ah, no, no. That’s not it.”

The man was startled by Bianca’s words, flailing his hands in denial.

“There’s no way we would dare do such a thing to him.”

Unlike his previously composed demeanor, his reaction was a mess, as if he was truly terrified of upsetting someone.

He seemed so shaken that he had even forgotten proper honorifics.

“He’s feeling unwell.”

“Unwell?”

“He came back last night looking dejected, then said he needed some fresh air and went outside…”

Bianca didn’t wait for him to finish.

“Hailey! Call Mr. Benson.”

“Yes, madam.”

There was no need to hear more. Outsiders knew each other best.

Without a doubt, he had been sighing heavily, trying to clear his mind, only to step straight into the icy wind. As if this were the capital.

She didn’t need to see it to know.

“Where is he? Lead the way.”

“Pardon?”

 

***

 

“I’ve prescribed medicine. He’ll recover quickly.”

After examining the man, Benson reassured the merchants that his condition was mild.

“The Duke’s physician? No, that won’t be necessary. Really, he’s fine. We have medicine in reserve. That should be enough.”

The merchants were in an uproar, worried that this incident would draw unnecessary attention.

But once Benson actually examined the patient, their hidden anxieties spilled out one by one.

“He had a high fever last night. We were terrified something had gone terribly wrong.”

“Even after taking fever medicine, the fever wouldn’t go down.”

“He coughed a little too… This won’t turn into something worse, will it?”

Like ducklings trailing their mother, they followed Benson around, firing off questions.

After checking the man’s pulse and condition, Benson assured them that it was just a common cold and that his fever would subside in a day or two.

He had to repeat himself at least ten times before they finally backed off. Or so he thought.

“Then… is there anything specific he should eat to help him recover?”

For a moment, Benson visibly flinched.

“He can eat anything. If you need menu suggestions, ask the— ahem, the head maid.”

“The head maid?”

The moment Benson stepped aside, the merchants swarmed Hailey instead.

Even she, who had remained composed all this time, seemed briefly taken aback.

“Meals are handled by the kitchen, so I…”

“Could you ask for us? We’re unfamiliar with the food here.”

The flood of questions grew louder.

Bianca, seeing the commotion, signaled for Julie to escort the merchants out.

Hailey would handle the details, so there was nothing to worry about.

Once the room was finally quiet, Bianca turned her attention to the man.

The cheerful, lively man from yesterday was now pale as a sheet, lying still with his eyes shut.

“…”

Even his breathing was faint.

The claim that he had suffered a high fever the night before wasn’t an exaggeration—his lips were dry and cracked, as if covered in salt.

Had she been too wary of him?

Looking at him now, Bianca couldn’t shake the feeling that she had been too harsh. That she had somehow played a part in breaking him down.

How long had she been staring?

The murmuring outside had died down, and she knew people would return soon.

Just as she was about to turn away—

“…Who…?”

A weak, barely audible voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Are you regaining consciousness?”

Bianca quickly approached the bed.

His gaze, unlike before, was unfocused.

“The medicine will be here soon. Just hang in there.”

“Why are you here?”

His hoarse voice was weak, but his words were clear.

“A guest falling ill from the cold—of course the host should be concerned.”

Bianca answered matter-of-factly.

There wasn’t a single noble who would treat a mere merchant with such courtesy. But since he was barely conscious, it didn’t matter.

“You’re concerned?”

“Naturally. Baloch does not neglect its guests.”

“Or is it because you’re an outsider too, and you can’t help but sympathize?”

What?

For a moment, Bianca’s lips parted in surprise, and he didn’t miss that fleeting expression.

“Can you endure this cold?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I’m asking if you can live in this ice forever.”

At some point, the man had sat up.

His cracked, pale lips and long, disheveled black hair made him look more haunting than sickly.

His shallow, ragged breathing was obvious, yet for some reason, he felt overwhelmingly intimidating.

“I…”

“If you wish, I will take you away from here.”

His dark eyes locked onto hers, sharp as a whip.