Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 84

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Of course, his own preoccupations these past months, along with Fiona’s obedient behavior, had surely played their part. Today’s freedom was the fruit of accumulated fortune—a little indifference, a little inattention.

The wagon continued for perhaps twenty minutes more. A distance impossible to cover on foot.

As the jolting gradually subsided, a long cluster of barracks came into Fiona’s view, small in the distance. The nearer they drew, the more clearly the encampment’s form revealed itself.

It was a camp of such scale that one glance could not contain it. Identical barracks fashioned from white canvas stretched endlessly at regular intervals, and in various places, the imperial banners snapped in the wind. It resembled a small town erected upon the plain.

“More sprawling and complex than I imagined,” she murmured.

With this brief observation, Fiona lightly jumped down from the wagon, which had now come to a stop.

A vitality filled this military camp—something she had never encountered within the silent, isolated castle. Countless knights and soldiers bustled about their appointed tasks.

The atmosphere was far more expansive and disordered than she had anticipated. Fiona felt, inwardly, that it was fortunate she had not come alone.

Had she recklessly ventured here by herself, she would likely never have found her way. Even if she had somehow located the camp, she would have been caught skulking about before finding Caligo, dragged back to the castle by Jayden.

Morin, by contrast, seemed quite familiar with the place. He walked toward the rear support unit situated at one edge of the encampment.

“I shall confirm with the unit commander that the provisions match the manifest. Until then, attend to your business and await me at the wagon.”

Having been vaguely apprised of Fiona’s plan, Morin withdrew with an air of indifferent courtesy, leaving her to herself.

For a moment, Fiona watched the other soldiers unloading crates and sacks from the wagon. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find the young soldier.

“They are about to release the beast from its cage, I believe. This way.”

At his words, Fiona’s face tightened in an instant. One particular word he had used grated upon her nerves.

Cage? She had known they treated him as a beast, but to actually confine him like an animal? Her premonition soured.

Whether he noticed her stiffened expression or not, the soldier tugged her along eagerly, like a barker promising some entertaining spectacle. Fiona, who had pulled her hood low to avoid exposing her identity, forced her anxiously pounding heart to calm as she followed.

After passing several barracks, they arrived at what appeared to be an empty clearing—likely used as a training ground. A considerable number of troops stood arrayed there.

“These are the men selected for the upcoming reconnaissance,” the soldier explained. “Training is about to commence. The beast will appear shortly.”

Whether to rouse their spirits, the assembled soldiers stamped their feet and shouted. Some raised their hands high, others hopped in place.

Amid all the noise and chaos, their gazes were fixed upon a single point. Fiona’s eyes were drawn there as well.

“Gods… what is that?”

The moment she saw who—or what—stood there, a curse escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

In the distance, a group of soldiers was dragging a man bound in iron chains.

Though spring had arrived, the air remained cold enough that the snow had not yet fully melted. And in that chill, there stood a man with no shirt upon his bare skin, a leash around his neck. He wore only tattered trousers. His build was immense.

And the moment she beheld that sturdy, powerful form, Fiona knew with instinctive certainty.

That man was her husband.

The instant she realized this, her hands curled into fists before she could stop herself. A fierce, undirected rage began to seethe within her.

“Well? Astonishing, is it not? Though he appears human, they say he is not truly a man—merely a monster wearing human guise. We must not venture too close; if we are discovered bringing you here, there will be trouble—”

The young soldier prattled on, his words only fueling the fire of her fury.

‘Not truly a man? Merely a monster wearing human guise?’