Episode 30: I Said I’ll Pay It Back! (5)
Click! Click! Belaxina’s teeth chattered loudly.
“You’re going to bite your tongue like that,” Avalkin said.
“Wh-what am I supposed to do? M-my teeth are chattering on their own!”
She sounded both frustrated and defensive. A cold breeze brushed down her spine, making her shiver harder. Avalkin watched her trembling and clicked his tongue.
“Didn’t I tell you to dress warmly?”
“H-how much warmer could I dress? M-my teeth just keep—click!”
“What, are you raising a woodpecker in your mouth?”
“S-shut up!”
Still on his white horse, Avalkin scanned Belaxina’s outfit: a high-necked velvet dress, a black-and-white fur cloak, tall leather boots, and gloves.
‘It doesn’t look like she is underdressed.’
Her clothes were suited for Yeshken’s fall. The maids had done their job well. The issue wasn’t the outfit, but her poor tolerance for cold.
“Achoo!”
Belaxina sneezed so forcefully that her black horse neighed and lifted its front hooves in surprise.
‘If she doesn’t bite her tongue, she might fall off the horse.’
At this rate, enjoying delicious food and nice clothes at the market was looking unlikely.
Avalkin stopped his horse and got down, walking over to her. Belaxina, with her nose reddened from the cold, looked at him curiously.
“What?”
“Ride with me.”
Before she could ask why, he mounted behind her and grabbed the reins. His chest pressed gently against her back, sharing warmth.
“Just put up with it until we get to the restaurant. Some warm soup will help. Then maybe you won’t bite your tongue like a nutcracker.”
She braced herself for his usual sarcasm.
Normally, she’d lash out, listing all the reasons she disliked Avalkin and found him annoying. Something like:
‘I’d rather bite my tongue and die than ride with you.’
To which he’d reply:
‘I agree. At least then you’d stop talking.’
But today was different.
“…I have no choice.”
“Hmm?”
It was too cold.
Without thinking, she leaned back into Avalkin, like slipping under a warm blanket on a winter night.
‘Ahh. I can finally feel my body again.’
The freezing wind had numbed her completely. Her head hurt, her chest ached, and her limbs trembled as if she were about to freeze to death.
But Avalkin’s wide frame blocked the wind and shared his warmth. She couldn’t bring herself to reject that comfort.
“You’re surprisingly compliant.”
“If that bothers you, I can start arguing again.”
“No, this is nice. No need to fight unnecessarily.”
“Hmph.”
Even her huff sounded softer today. Less sharp. More… lighthearted.
“Is the restaurant far? How long do I have to stay like this?”
“If we rush, we’ll get there sooner, but the wind will hit us harder.”
“Then let’s take our time. Might as well enjoy the view.”
Belaxina gave up quickly.
Sure, Avalkin blocked the wind from behind, but the headwind was still merciless.
‘If only she were this agreeable all the time, marriage would be a breeze.’
Avalkin smiled slightly, lifting his gaze so she wouldn’t see.
“Let’s do that.”
It was a strange but pleasant feeling.
****
Same Time, Ostrava Square
The news that the duke and his fiancée might visit hadn’t spread far. The decision had been sudden, and the townspeople were far too busy to gossip.
“You promised to bring beeswax candles today! I’ve been asking for a month! Who did you sell them to?!”
“Hardtack! Get your hardtack here! Dried and packed to last three months!”
“Ask Brother Milton quietly—he got cheese from home. Just one block. Don’t tell anyone else…”
Among the bustling crowd, one pair was especially busy.
A young man named Redek Ribodoukan, the only son of Baron Ribodoukan and future vassal to Duke Istvan-Zsigsmont, though not yet knighted.
And with him was Margareta, a teen girl with carrot-colored short hair and glasses covering half her face. She scribbled notes on a piece of paper while walking.
“Why are we buying so much wine? I prefer beer.”
“It’s for the communion ceremony.”
She signed a receipt and handed it to the wine merchant, who bowed respectfully.
“Thank you, Miss Margareta.”
“I’m a commoner. No need for titles. Half goes to the church, half to the Yeshken castle cellar. Thanks.”
“I still like beer.”
She ignored him.
“Are you ignoring a noble’s words?”
With her social position brought up, she finally responded.
“There’s already enough beer in the cellar. And there’s more stocked in the barracks. No need to buy extra.”
“Didn’t seem like enough to me.”
“Well, the budget isn’t enough either.”
She snapped, then muttered in frustration.
“Why did Lord Avalkin choose now to get married? Preparing for winter is already tight. Add a wedding and we’re drowning.”
“Maybe because some lady might cause trouble?”
Margareta narrowed her eyes at him. She knew exactly who he meant.
“The wedding should happen in spring. We need to see if she can survive a Yeshken winter first.”
“True. That way you can scold her all winter.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Just surprised you think it’s okay. Commoners shouldn’t harass nobles. Oh wait.”
Redek hesitated.
If Margareta found out Belaxina was a former slave, who knew what she’d do?
“What is it? Why’d you stop?”
“Just thinking… character matters more than status.”
“Says the guy who always flaunts his nobility.”
Margareta tucked away her pen.
“Anyway, with this budget, the wedding is impossible. You tell Lord Avalkin.”
“I can… but aren’t you on sick leave?”
Redek picked up a hairpin from a stall and held it to her hair.
She swatted his hand away.
“It was a fake excuse.”
“I figured. Still, you need a cover story.”
“Then say menstrual pain.”
“…Anything else you could use?”
He looked awkward as he paid for the pin and handed it to her.
“Don’t need it.”
“Your hair keeps falling into your eyes.”
She sighed. He could be so stubborn.
Taking the pin, she said:
“Fine. I’ll take it. Now say what you really want to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“Stop following me around all day just to beat around the bush. It’s work interference.”
Redek scratched his head, then said carefully:
“Help with the wedding. Lord Avalkin really means it this time.”
“…”
Margareta bit her lip. So that was why he’d been trailing her.
“Why now?”
“Margareta…”
“I turn twenty next year. How can I give up when I’ve waited so long? You know how long I’ve waited!”
Her teal eyes shimmered with emotion.
“Ten years!”
For the nineteen-year-old, that was over half her life.
“I wasn’t even allowed to think about love before twenty. I waited ten years just to dream.”
Too long to sit back and do nothing now.
“I know. He was wrong.”
“Exactly.”
She looked up, eyes fierce yet moist.
“So this time, he needs to wait for me.”
Thank you very much