"Is the fever still high?"
"Yes, Your Grace. I doubt she'll be able to get up today."
"Right. Well. Nothing's certain yet."
He returned to the study.
Alfredo spoke quietly at his side as he attended to his work.
Just a room or two away, Daniela lay in bed.
Groans and moans of suffering drifted all the way into the study.
"Still, she crossed the mountain range — that's no ordinary exhaustion. And that cheap linen, of all things. Might as well have told her to die in the North. Don't you think?"
"Indeed, Your Grace. Anyone from the North would take one look at those clothes and laugh."
"Exactly. Like she'd made up her mind to freeze to death."
He glanced toward Daniela as he worked through the day's documents.
From where he sat at the desk, only her feet were visible — but they were tucked neatly beneath a thick blanket.
Not ordinary cotton, either. It was made from North brown bear hide, crafted specifically to preserve body heat.
"In any case, Your Grace — what do you intend to do with the young lady?"
"I'm not sure. It was all rather sudden."
"I only wondered whether you might have other thoughts in mind—"
"What sort of thoughts?"
Alfredo cleared his throat once. Odd — he didn't usually do that.
A strange gleam had appeared in the old man's eyes.
He probably harbored the same hopes as any other noble.
Alfredo had served several masters in the North over the years.
Theodor was his current one, but the man had known him since childhood.
He knew everything Theodor did.
And being a man of the North himself —
He served Wintergard and Wintergard alone. Only Wintergard.
"Alfredo, you're not having strange thoughts, are you? You're acting odd today."
"How could I possibly entertain such indecent thoughts?"
"I never once said 'indecent.'"
"Your Grace, even so — surely a man must indulge in a certain degree of such indecency, or how are old men like myself to carry on? The great Grand Duke of the North taking no wife, leaving no heir — that would be the greatest shame of my life—"
"Enough! Enough! It's nothing like that."
Not that he disliked women, of course.
Back in his other home — the one that wasn't the North — he had tried his hand at romance.
He'd made an effort to look presentable, but for some reason, he'd never quite known how to approach women.
Coming here hadn't changed that.
Even when women flocked to him, he felt strangely awkward.
He held the position of Grand Duke of the North, a man who governed many — and perhaps because of that, to desire something for himself felt a little...
Clumsy, perhaps.
"I'll have to follow the North's customs. Probably."
Someone knocked from outside.
A visitor had come to the Hall of Winter.
The road construction had been completed, and representatives from distant regional communities had come to pay their respects.
Before stepping out of the study, he paused and rested his hand briefly on Daniela's forehead.
The fever was still raging.
He spoke with those gathered in the Hall of Winter, and received tribute from the cities that had become nodes along the new road network.
He had no need of the gifts, but he returned the gesture with a bolt of silk each, along with words of genuine gratitude.
Give and take — but for the Grand Duke of the North, the act of giving back was the most important part of the exchange.
That was what the name Wintergard meant.
"By the way, the loyalty oath from the Empire is taking far too long."
"There must be quite the uproar within the capital."
"Why? Dorgon?"
Dorgon stepped closer and began to whisper in his ear.
He had been receiving continuous reports on developments within the Empire, but this new information was rather interesting.
The Crown Prince, the other young nobles, and the love quarrel over Kartina.
It would have been a fine thing if it had stayed confined to the Academy.
The problem was that the situation showed every sign of escalating.
It had been the same in the novel.
Eventually, one word from Kartina — "War, stop!" — had ended the conflict, and the story had closed with a reverse harem ending.
Reality was far more brutal.
"A round-robin petition is circulating, I'm told. Your Grace, the intelligence division will shortly bring the leaked documents."
"They're choosing sides?"
"The nobles aligned with the Crown Prince, and those aligned with others. They've split into several factions, each confirming their loyalties."
"Messy. So that's why our loyalty oath paperwork hasn't arrived. I don't like it."
Dorgon dropped swiftly to one knee.
Theodor waved a hand and motioned for him to rise.
The excessive devotion of North men could be unsettling at times.
"In any case, Dorgon — this looks like it's going to get complicated. Keep a close eye on things. Figure out what we stand to gain from all of this."
"Understood."
"Ah, and — about House Barth."
Dorgon's eyes sharpened. House Barth was among the most distinguished of the families that guarded the Imperial throne.
The source of House Barth's influence was simple: gold.
An inexhaustible vein of gold — that was House Barth's pride. Though surely the Imperial family was well aware of it.
"Even if it's all a matter of love affairs — I don't think the Imperial family would abandon House Barth."
The novel hadn't gone into detail, but living in this world, he knew that an engagement wouldn't be broken this easily.
Well — if impossible things could come true, that was the nature of a novel's world, so there was nothing more to say.
"But a letter came all the way to the North. That tells me someone may be looking to redraw the board."
"Might I ask what configuration you have in mind, Your Grace?"
"I'm thinking about how to swallow House Barth's gold mines whole. For now — look into House Barth's movements. As quickly as possible."
"Understood, Your Grace."
Dorgon left the Hall of Winter.
Now there was no one left but the personal guard.
Had all the day's appointments concluded?
He rose from his seat and circled the chair once. There was too much to think about.
Sentences that had passed in a single line in the novel were pressing down on him now with their full weight, demanding that he think.
In the original story, Daniela von Barth was supposed to be violated by bandits and killed.
After that would come war, and then the reverse harem ending to close it all out.
But he had no certainty that the novel ending would send him home. If anything, this world would simply continue on.
Then what could he do? Hmm.
"I've gone and become a proper Grand Duke of the North."
"Y-yes! Your Grace!"
"Ah — no. I wasn't speaking to the guard. Never mind."
The guard commander had bowed his head sharply, and Theodor found himself caught off guard. What more could be done?
"Guard Commander."
"Yes! Your Grace!"
"Are any of the nobles still here?"
"A few are preparing to depart, as far as I know!"
"Tell them to make ready — I'll be holding a full assembly tomorrow."
"Yes!"
The guards began moving with brisk urgency. When no good solution came to mind, the best course was to hear what others had to say.
He returned to the study. Alfredo had remained at his post, tending to Daniela.
She was still groaning.
"Alfredo, I'll be holding a full assembly tomorrow. Do we have enough fruit?"
"I'll check, Your Grace."
"And — no wine, if you don't mind. Things are going to get busy."
"...When you say busy—"
"Not like that. Don't worry. Just make sure there's plenty of fruit."
"Understood."
Alfredo remained where he stood. No sense of the hint at all.
"You're free to go, you know. You know that."
"It's just — what if this young lady tries something with Your Grace?"
"Don't worry. Do you think Wintergard is so easily caught off guard?"
"Even so, Your Grace."
"I'll be fine. Go on."
Alfredo bowed his head and stepped out of the study.
The personal guard would be standing watch at the door, of course — but inside the room, it was only Theodor and Daniela, still moaning softly.
She's beautiful...
Her appearance was somewhat different from the novel's illustrations.
The last illustration he'd seen had shown long golden hair. Now it was cut short, falling only to around her jaw.
He studied the defeated heroine carefully.
When he rested his hand lightly on her forehead, the fever was still blazing.
And those faint, pained sounds.
He pulled a nearby blanket and layered it over the one already covering her.
He brought a damp handkerchief and pressed it to her brow.
For no particular reason, he felt his face grow warm.
He returned to the desk. There was still work to be done.
"Mmh... mmh..."
A moan drifted over. Louder than before.
People from the south sometimes fell ill when they came north.
Even the strongest constitution could be undone by the North's wind.
All the more so for a woman.
"...sorry..."
"Hm? What was that?"
She was speaking to someone.
Daniela began to move her hand through the air.
It looked like she was pleading with someone — or perhaps trying to keep someone at a distance.
"I'm... sorry..."
"Sorry?"
He found himself drawn into her words.
He rose from the chair and crossed back to the bed.
He sat at the bedside and listened to her voice.
A voice worn completely raw — not unlike the cry of a wood pigeon.
"Please... don't kill me..."
"..."
He tucked her hand back beneath the blanket.
Through barely parted lids, a flash of blue irises.
The light that slipped through that narrow gap was unmistakably blue.
"What is your name?"
He whispered close to her ear.
He already knew, of course — but there was a need to ask properly.
Wasn't that how it went? An introduction. My name is such-and-such.
Hello.
Since rising to the position of Grand Duke, he'd had no occasion to introduce himself.
But strangely — to this woman burning with fever —
he wanted her to know who he was.
"Da... Danie..."
"Danie..."
Daniela gave a faint nod.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered quietly.
In the North, no one simply called the Grand Duke by name —
"I'm Theo. Theo."
Daniela closed her eyes again.