Chapter 36
How did you get hurt?”
“A sword grazed me.
It’s nothing.”
It was a long, wide scar—at least a span in length.
Far from being “nothing.”
“You could have died.”
If the wound was that severe, it must have been a life-threatening injury.
At Floria’s words, Aidan nodded.
“I suppose I could have.”
He spoke with a calm attitude, as if talking about someone else’s experience.
He could have died— how could he be so composed?
Though she was now speaking casually with Aidan like this, before coming to marry into the Principality of Sieff, she had been so terrified of marrying him that she didn’t know what to do.
Just marrying a man she didn’t know had made her nerves fray this much, so how could he speak so peacefully about being wounded on a battlefield where blades rained down on him?
Floria couldn’t begin to understand what he felt.
“Weren’t you ever afraid of going to war?”
The words slipped from her lips, and he raised his eyebrows slightly.
He looked at her quietly, as if trying to discern the intent behind her question.
“That’s the first time anyone’s asked me that.”
Aidan opened his eyes a bit wider.
“I’ve never thought about it.”
He shut his lips again.
She couldn’t tell if he was searching for an answer or simply didn’t want to give one.
“Could it be… that you don’t know what fear is?”
Did he not know that kind of dread that made one’s heart ache and race at the thought of being hurt?
Despite Floria’s bold question, he remained silent.
“Or… is it that you enjoy battle?”
She had once heard a rumor that the Grand Duke of Sieff had a hobby of tearing people apart with his bare hands.
Since the marriage, after watching him day by day, he didn’t seem like a man who killed for fun.
But those hands of his— they certainly looked capable of it.
After a long silence, he finally spoke with a slight frown.
“I do it because I must.
No more, no less.
War is not something one engages in for fun. Once you see the horrors with your own eyes…”
He pursed his lips crookedly, then continued.
“······.”
“Once you see the horrors of war for yourself, you’ll realize there’s no one who can enjoy it.”
A heavy air filled the room, too heavy to question any further.
It hadn’t been a pleasant question.
And even more so, it was hardly an appropriate one to ask first thing in the morning.
“I’m sorry for asking something so strange.”
He shook his head.
With a softer voice, he whispered,
“You can ask anything—if it’s you.”
No sooner had Aidan finished speaking than a knock came at the door.
Only after confirming that Floria had properly fixed her still-rumpled clothes, did Aidan call for the attendant to enter.
“Your Grace. Good morning. I’ve brought your breakfast.”
With a courteous greeting, the attendant slowly entered the bedroom carrying a tray full of food.
They spread a white lace tablecloth on the window side table, where the beautiful garden could be seen clearly, and placed elegant porcelain atop it.
It looked nearly identical to the breakfasts served in Altomole.
Floria, who was cautiously looking over the prepared breakfast, suddenly had a glint in her eye.
“No, these porcelain pieces… they look like the ones from Altomole?”
The fancy pastries and dishes were all unfamiliar, but the tableware beneath them was familiar to her eyes.
“This tablecloth too…”
Even the white lace tablecloth—It was a specialty product from a village in Altomole.
She had heard that the delicate handiwork of the artisans there was impossible for people of other regions to replicate.
No matter how she looked at it, everything seemed to be from Altomole.
Does the Principality of Sieff use many goods from Altomole?
Without realizing it, floria began fiddling with the edge of the lace with her fingers.
Though not all her memories of home were good, it wasn’t as if she didn’t miss it.
“I brought them.
If you’d like, I can also get you books from Altomole.
You likely can’t read Sieff’s script.”
As if it were nothing, he unfolded his napkin and laid it across his thigh, giving a small nod.
For no one else—but for me.
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