[Lucielle’s POV — Ashcroft Territory — Morning]
There are moments in life when you realize you’ve made a terrible decision; it’s not like you forgot an umbrella. I’m talking about the kind of decision that makes you stare at the ceiling at three in the morning and whisper,
"Why am I like this?"
The kind of mistake that’s right up there with hitting "Reply All" to a company email or accidentally calling your teacher "Mom."
This...was one of those moments. The carriage rolled smoothly across the snow-covered roads.
Inside? Silence.
Not normal and peaceful silence, this was the kind of silence where even blinking felt rude. I sat with military-level posture, back perfectly straight, hands neatly folded on my lap and eyes glued to the opposite window with the dedication of a monk seeking enlightenment.
I tried very much to behave like a woman because if I looked at Cassian, I might accidentally make eye contact. And then what? Die?
Spontaneously combust? Pay taxes? Worse...have to start a conversation and... I wasn’t taking that risk.
The carriage gently rocked.
Clop.
Clop.
Clop.
The horses outside sounded suspiciously happy as I looked out the window. I saw...snow. More snow. Even more snow. Snow with extra snow sprinkled on top. At this point, I was convinced the Ashcroft Territory only had two seasons.
Winter.
And...
Winter: Deluxe Edition.
A few minutes passed, or maybe three centuries; time had stopped functioning. I could practically hear the rusty gears inside my brain grinding together.
Creeeak...
Think of something, Minato, anything. Count the snowflakes. Recite the alphabet backwards. Fake your own death. Anything but this because this silence wasn’t just awkward... It had evolved and it had reached its final form.
Meanwhile...the Grim Grand Duke sitting across from me looked perfectly relaxed, naturally. The man could probably sit inside an active volcano and calmly remark, "Hm. Slightly warm today."
If the apocalypse happened tomorrow, he’d probably watch the sky split open, sip his tea, and say,
"Acceptable."
Me?
I was one awkward cough away from apologizing to the furniture. Should I say something?
. . .
No, absolutely not. What if I accidentally offended him? What if there was some absurd noble etiquette rule I didn’t know about?
"Never speak before the Grand Duke unless the moon is waxing, Mercury is in retrograde, and you’ve sacrificed three potatoes to the ancestors."
Honestly? At this point... I wouldn’t even be surprised.
. . .
Then—
"You were saying..." Cassian’s deep voice broke the silence. "The Territory of the Cold Villain. What does that mean?"
I turned toward him in surprise; our eyes met, and before my brain could file the appropriate paperwork, I don’t know why my stupid heart tried to crawl out of my chest, and my mouth clocked in for work.
"Wow...You have an insanely nice voice."
He blinked as I pointed at him for absolutely no reason.
"Like a premium anime voice, and your face doesn’t help either. Seriously, Grand Duke, this is unfair. You’re ridiculously handsome, and you have that voice? Pick a struggle."
Because seriously.
That voice wasn’t just deep; it was smooth and rich. The kind of voice that could narrate the end of the world and somehow make you think,
"You know what? Maybe the apocalypse isn’t that bad."
If the readers of Crown’s Beloved had actually heard this man speak, forget the male lead, there would’ve been an entire fan club called...
"Cassian Ashcroft Can Ruin My Life."
Membership? One hundred million. Including me.
. . .
. . .
Wait, did I just say all of that... Out loud?
. . .
. . .
Oops.
I slowly looked back at Cassian, the terrifying Grand Duke of the North, the man who could make veteran knights faint with a single glare and the infamous villain feared across the empire. His golden eyes were slightly wider than usual, and were...his ears red?
I blinked.
"Grand Duke?" He remained perfectly still. "...Did something happen?"
For a painfully long three seconds, he simply stared at me, then he quietly turned his head toward the window.
"N...Nothing."
Thankfully.
He did not take me seriously. Which was good, because I had absolutely no plan for what to do if the terrifying Grand Duke of Ashcroft actually blushed because of me. I would have short-circuited on the spot.
The carriage slowed and then stopped, a moment later—
KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Your Grace, His Grace—we have arrived."
Cassian stepped out first with the elegance expected of a grand duke, graceful, refined, and dignified.
I immediately ruined the atmosphere.
THUD!
I jumped down from the carriage as quickly as possible, lifting my annoying dress before it could betray me and send me straight into the snow like a collapsing sack of potatoes.
The knights all stared at me, not even subtly.
I blinked at them. What? Had they never seen a girl jump out of a carriage before?
Then I turned slightly and noticed Cassian had his hand half-raised toward the carriage. I looked at his outstretched hand, then at him and then back at his hand.
"Does your shoulder hurt, Grand Duke?"
Cassian blinked. "My...shoulder?"
"Well..." I pointed. "You’ve been holding your arm out for a while."
He straightened as if he had been caught doing something embarrassing and gave a short cough. "No."
I nodded solemnly, as if this were a very serious medical matter.
"That’s good."
Because shoulder pain was no joke.
His expression didn’t change, but I was starting to suspect his ears had a personal vendetta against me. I smiled brightly, already imagining my grand tour.
Finally.
A chance to explore the territory, a chance to breathe fresh air and a chance to do normal, peaceful things like shopping, looking around, and pretending I was not currently living inside the personal domain of a future villain with stunning cheekbones—
I clasped my hands together and whispered to myself. "Alright, let’s have fun in the territory market."
I took one step forward, my smile wide, and then I froze, not because of the cold, not because of the snow, and definitely not because my boots were slipping on ice like an idiot in a dramatic historical tragedy.
No.
I froze because of the surroundings. Because...What in the world was this? Why did the territory look like it had been personally offended by civilization?
There were broken fences leaning at the weirdest angles, a cart wheel was missing, and one shop sign looked like it had survived three wars and a bad mood. Snow piled up everywhere in uneven, messy heaps like no one had ever heard of a broom.
A dog with more dignity than half the nobles I knew was sleeping in the middle of the road.
There were people, but instead of chatting, instead of laughing, and instead of bargaining over vegetables like every fantasy market ever, they quietly carried firewood and patched their own roofs.
Pulled empty carts through the snow, and even the children weren’t playing.
. . .
. . .
The entire town felt gray, cold, and tired. I glanced around again just to make sure I hadn’t accidentally walked onto the set of a historical tragedy.
"What exactly is happening here?" I muttered to myself.
Then my eyes widened as I realized, Hold on, this...this wasn’t the terrifying villain’s territory. This was...the territory’s bank account after paying taxes.
I slowly turned toward Cassian, then back at the town and then back at Cassian. Because don’t tell me the richest-looking man in the entire empire...was actually broke.
He looked like someone who casually bought mountains for decoration. Yet his territory looked like it had survived five economic recessions and two subscription price increases.
I shot him laser beams suspiciously, questioningly, deeply, and spiritually bankrupt-accusingly.
Cassian felt my eyes on him and looked down at me, his brows drawing together.
"Why are you glaring at me?"
I pointed at the ruined road, the broken fences, the cracked walls, the missing rooftops, and the overall atmosphere of financial tragedy.
"You’re broke, aren’t you?"
Silence.
He stared at me completely dumbfounded. It was the exact expression someone would make after being accused of secretly being a penguin.
Finally, he let out a long sigh. "No."
"Hm."
I didn’t believe him, not even a little, because somebody here was lying. Then the knight from earlier stepped forward and bowed. "Your Grace, this is worse than the last attack. We repaired most of the town only two weeks ago...and they’ve destroyed it again."
"They?" I looked between the knight and Cassian. "Does that mean someone attacked our territory?"
The knight nodded grimly.
"Yes, Your Grace, as always, the same fox beasts attacked our territory again."
"...Fox Beasts?"
Cassian crossed his arms. His expression remained unreadable, but somehow he looked even more annoyed than before.
"We have tried everything," the knight said. "Barriers, traps, patrols, wards—nothing works. They always find a way through."
I tilted my head and asked, "How did they find their way through, even after the magical barriers?"
The knight gave a bleak little shrug. "Because they are foxes."
. . .
. . .
I stared back at the damaged buildings, this terrifying northern territory, this legendary Ashcroft land, this place that was supposed to make enemies wet their pants from fear...was currently being bullied by foxes.
I looked around again.
Broken fences, half-collapsed sheds, and roof tiles scattered across the snow made it look like the territory had been personally robbed by a very determined raccoon. People were busy patching walls, carrying timber, and cleaning up the mess with the dead-eyed expression of those who had accepted fate and lost.
Honestly, they looked less like citizens of a feared villain’s domain and more like people living inside a very expensive bad luck curse.
My heart softened a little because this must be exhausting. Imagine building your house and then a fox beast shows up.
Then the house gets wrecked, and then you rebuild it; at this point, even the builders deserve a medal.
I turned back to Cassian, my suspicion slowly melting into something else as I asked, "Why did you not hunt every fox beast, Grand Duke?"
It seemed like the most obvious solution: no foxes, no destruction, and problem solved.
Cassian’s gaze remained fixed on me. "Because they are not ordinary fox beasts."
His golden eyes swept across the broken buildings, shattered fences, and claw marks gouged deep into the frozen ground.
"The ones attacking this territory...they are different."
Different? I looked around once more. The damage suddenly felt...stone walls cracked apart as though something had slammed into them with enormous force.
Massive claw marks carved through solid timber. Trees near the edge of the village had been snapped clean in half.
No matter how much I tried to imagine it, my brain refused to cooperate because the image in my head was still—
A tiny orange fox. Fluffy tail, pointy ears, tiny little paws.
That didn’t exactly match...Whatever this was.
And for the first time since arriving in the North, I realized something, just maybe...the most terrifying thing in the Ashcroft Territory...wasn’t Cassian Ashcroft.
It was whatever he had been protecting this land from.