Chapter 10
Beyond the window, a thick blizzard raged. Since Ninia’s arrival in the North, winter had reached its peak. Standing by the window, she retreated from the shivering cold.
Though she belatedly drew the thick winter curtains, the chill couldn’t be completely blocked. The Dark Winter was a cold difficult for someone born and raised in the central region to endure. Even staying indoors, wearing layers of clothes, and keeping the warming pan filled with charcoal burning all day didn’t provide much warmth.
‘……It’s all snow outside.’
Just the thought of the scenery outside strangely brought Tarahan to mind. Late that night, he had entered her room without a sound, left behind a single cold remark, and vanished.
The next morning, Ninia asked the maid who brought her meal if Tarahan was at the castle. But the maid, with a hesitant tone, told her that the Duke was away.
‘So it’s possible to travel in this weather.’
Even from the window, the weather looked this bad, so it must be impossible to see anything outside. But she quickly stopped worrying.
Her husband-to-be was someone who had overturned the tides of a seemingly lost war and placed the laurel wreath upon his own head. This kind of weather probably meant nothing to him.
‘Is it because of the blood of the minority tribe?’
Tarahan had red eyes and light brown skin. Both his eye color and skin tone were unusual for citizens of the Pietchen Empire. They were likely inherited from his maternal side, the so-called barbarians.
The various minority tribes, now considered barbarians, had lived on the continent since ancient times. They possessed unique blood and abilities and were closed communities that preserved their tribal traditions.
The tribe Tarahan was descended from was the “Luta,” all of whom had red eyes and dark skin. They possessed powerful physiques, capable of facing three or four knights barehanded, and they lived prioritizing the protection of the women who held the wisdom of the tribe.
Red eyes and brown skin made them easy targets for persecution as devils among the predominantly white-skinned followers of the Caner Church. Under the teachings of the Goddess Caner, they had been eradicated through several extermination campaigns.
Even aside from the Luta tribe, the execution of minority tribes continued to this day. Perhaps this was why Tarahan disliked her, Ninia speculated.
“……My use.”
Tarahan’s words, “Not a Saint, and your body is useless too,” echoed in Ninia’s mind. In truth, she was already fully aware of these things, even without him saying them.
She was useless in this castle. Even the lowliest maid had her duties, while Ninia, without any responsibilities or obligations, simply huddled against the cold.
‘Should I have done something when he came to me?’
The word “seduction” suddenly flashed through Ninia’s mind. She had never learned about such things, and even having such thoughts was considered sinful.
But even if she could turn back time, she wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Even if she had mustered the courage to reach out, her body, stiff as a wooden doll, would have only earned ridicule.
‘He probably won’t need me anymore.’
He had left without doing anything. Perhaps he had come out of curiosity. Tarahan must have judged Ninia as not worth his time. He probably wouldn’t seek her out again, Ninia concluded.
“The North is truly cold.”
Being alone had increased her self-talk considerably. Adjusting the heavy shawl around her, Ninia soon realized the source of the cold. The charcoal in the warming pan had burned out. She hesitated as she was about to add new charcoal to revive the embers.
‘There’s no charcoal.’
The charcoal that should have been piled beside the warming pan was gone. It had probably been quickly consumed due to the intensifying cold.
‘What should I do?’
There was no bell rope to call for a servant in the room. She had realized this a few days after arriving at the castle. This meant that the place she was staying wasn’t the Duchess’s room. She had already resigned herself to most things, so she didn’t feel angry or miserable, but she was troubled.
‘I need to ask for more……’
The maid came in three times a day, including for cleaning. It would take another half day for her to return, and it would be difficult to endure without heat until then.
‘Would it be alright to go out for a moment?’
Ninia’s movements were restricted according to the marriage contract. However, within the castle, she was relatively free to move, excluding certain areas.
The reason she remained confined to her room despite knowing this was because of the gazes of the people.
She wasn’t afraid of them. But their gazes were a constant reminder that she was unnecessary in this castle.
She didn’t want to become a hindrance to those who were useful.
‘This won’t do.’
The room, now without heat, was rapidly cooling. Ninia, feeling a chill that seemed to make her breath visible, stood up.
The cold door creaked open. The whistling wind was eerie, like the wail of a ghost roaming the hallway. Even a room without a lit fireplace was far better than the hallway. She needed to find someone quickly. She stepped onto the icy floor.
‘They’re making repairs.’
The windows, which had been open to the wind when she first arrived, and the cracked walls had all been repaired. With insulation covers and other materials, the hallways were at least passable.
The harsh winter was also called divine punishment. The people of the North, abandoned by the Goddess, didn’t simply wait for mercy to be bestowed upon their land. They were striving to carve out a way of life in this cruel season.
Not long after walking down the hallway, Ninia heard the voices of people approaching from around the corner. While she was relieved, she also felt nervous about speaking to a group already engaged in conversation.
It was no different from when she, as a sinner, had asked the priests for thread and needles. However, before Ninia could speak, the word “Saint” came up in their conversation.
“So, how is that woman, the one who was supposedly a Saint, doing?”
It was the stableman, Hathom, who spoke first. At his words, the three maids simultaneously frowned.
“She’s cooped up in her room, not coming out at all. Well, it’s better that way.”
“Still, it’s infuriating.”
Viola, a fellow maid, retorted to Rosa, the maid in charge of Ninia’s room. Emily, the youngest maid, nodded vigorously beside them, even clenching her fists.
“That’s right! Because of that woman, the Master’s honor……!”
“Emily. Watch your words. Someone might hear.”
At Hathom’s caution, Emily pouted. But when the senior maids didn’t stop her, Emily continued to grumble.
“Hmph, who here likes that woman anyway? The Master’s honor is the North’s and our honor, and that Saint or whatever ruined it all.”
“Hey, how old are you, to be so tearful?”
Viola interjected as Emily’s eyes reddened. Even as she spoke, Viola’s hand on Emily’s shoulder was gentle.
“We all know you’re not wrong, so stop crying.”
Rosa also joined in, patting Emily’s back. Emily sniffled for a moment, seemingly calming down, and then continued with a resentful look.
“It was the Master who led us to victory in the war, and it was us who survived that deadly war, so I don’t understand why that woman is being praised.”
At the young maid’s words, everyone fell silent. The gloomy silence was as heavy as the biting cold.
It had been a terrible war. The nobles who ruled the North rushed to the central regions, abandoning the villagers to the ravages of war.
Villages were burned down by invaders, and the residents, who didn’t even know how to hold a sword, were massacred. When their parents died before their eyes and dark hands reached out to the young women, he appeared.
‘Tarahan. Our savior.’
To the abandoned, Tarahan was a godsend with brown skin. He gathered the people from various villages and protected them from the enemy. He shared food, ensuring no one starved or fell ill, which was better than the days when they were exploited by their former lords.
Usury was rampant in the North, and it was difficult to find anyone without debt. Even before the war, many died from lack of firewood, yet no one offered a helping hand.
Feeling indebted, they helped in the war. The women cared for the wounded, and the men didn’t shy away from any hard labor. How long did they endure? Their god finally led them to victory.
“I wanted the Master to be recognized. I still do.”
Emily and everyone else were sincere. But after their hard-won victory, what awaited them wasn’t great honor or stability.
The nobles who had fled to the central region returned as if nothing had happened and plundered the villagers. They claimed that the victory was due to their fervent prayers and donations to the Goddess, and they burned those who sided with Tarahan.
‘Didn’t the benevolent Goddess send the Saint to save you?’
The Saint? Preposterous.
Most of the North’s residents had never properly met a priest, let alone a Saint. In the end, the credit for the victory went to the Goddess. Next was the unknown Saint, and last were the northern nobles who offered donations and prayers.
The reward given to the one who risked his life was the scorn of being called a dirty half-breed. The villagers whom Tarahan had protected were flogged daily, labeled as unscrupulous people who didn’t believe in God.
Resentment and anger welled up. What was a god? What was a Saint?
Ultimately, the Saint became known throughout the continent as the hero who saved the North. The story went that the Saint, through self-sacrifice, used all her holy power to stop the war and, extending a hand of benevolence to the godless Tarahan, descended to be by his side.
Everyone believed the fabricated story as if it were the truth. Only those who had actually experienced the war knew the reality.
“How can she be so shameless? She shouldn’t have come from the central region in the first place.”
“She probably came here to claim credit for the North’s prosperity.”
Rosa replied to Viola, who was holding Emily. After a few more words against Ninia, the group dispersed to their respective tasks.
Only Ninia remained, leaning against the wall in the chilly hallway.
“……I see.”
Even after everyone had left, she stood there for a long time. She couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. The empty shell left behind had been beautifully packaged and used.
It was only natural that no one cared about how discarded trash was treated.
“I should have died back then.”
Ninia murmured those words once again.
