Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 61

61.

"You won't escape this time."

At Kite's words, Ibelin smiled awkwardly.

"I've never escaped."

"You have—you've been avoiding me lately."

At that, she rolled her eyes.

"Tell me—did I do something wrong? If so, I'll apologize."

"No—it's not that!"

She waved her hands quickly.

"Then?"

"It's just—"

"Just?"

"I had a dream."

"A prophetic one?"

His voice lowered.

"Yes—but maybe it wasn't."

Hers lowered too.

"If not, then what?"

"Just—an ordinary dream?"

"Then why avoid me?"

"Ugh."

She rubbed her flushed face.

"I can't say."

"Wouldn't it be easier to tell me?"

"I can't—I absolutely can't!"

She buried her face in her hands.

"A bad dream?"

"Not—not really."

"Then a good one?"

"Maybe not."

"Nothing clear."

He inched closer.

"A shameful one, then?"

He gently pulled her hands away—her face was tomato-red. She hesitated, then reluctantly admitted.

"Yes."

A shameful future—he couldn't imagine. She'd once said she sometimes glimpsed trivial futures: strawberry pie for lunch, her grandfather preparing a birthday gift.

"Can't you tell me?"

He was very curious.

"Absolutely not."

"But you'll keep avoiding me until it's resolved."

What could she have dreamed? Then it struck him—perhaps it involved him. He loved her, wanted to advance their relationship, and would do anything for that.

"Did we kiss?"

"Agh!"

She screamed. Alex knocked on the opposite door.

"Need help?"

"No—absolutely not!"

"Call if you need anything."

Watching, Kite smirked.

"Your screams make me look like a villain."

"Y-you misunderstood—I screamed, so he thought—"

She flapped her hands, trying to cool her face—but his next words sank her.

"So we kissed in the dream?"

"Ugh."

No affirmation, but no denial.

"How?"

"We didn't."

"Lying is bad, isn't it?"

"It's still not true."

Her constant denials only spurred his mischievous side. He reached for her hand, leaned close, and smiled with rounded eyes.

"Ibelin."

His low voice called her name softly. She could have pushed him away—but strangely, she couldn't move.

"Ibelin."

Each call drained her strength.

"Th-this isn't right."

"What isn't?"

"I—"

She racked her brain—then sudden noise from outside.

Tap, tap.

Alex knocked lightly.

"A greeting party from the North has arrived."

Kite clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"We'll continue this later."

She nodded weakly, hoping that moment would never come.

He opened the door and stepped out—to meet the northern greeting party.

"Greetings, Archduke Gracias—I am Grux, guarding the northern fortress."

A burly, one-eyed man bowed, placing his right hand to his chest—a northern salute of respect.

"Long time no see, Sir Grux."

After the war, most nobles had returned—but some remained. Half had nowhere else to go: younger sons, exiles. The other half stayed willingly, knowing the North's hardships and devoting themselves to it. Grux was among them, the eldest son of House Monten.

"Your companion looks familiar."

"You remember? He's the eldest son of House Redwood, guarding the North. He was younger than you then."

"Yes—he used to follow me around."

"Thank you for remembering! I'm Albert, second son of House Redwood!"

Once frail, he'd grown into a fine knight. They'd brought rangers—most Kite knew.

"You're still alive?"

"Haha—I've got a second child now, so I have to live. But did you really get engaged?"

"Is it true? Don't you know Kite?"

News traveled even here—and these men knew him well.

"What about me?"

"Come on."

One ranger mimicked a dog's bark.

"Ah—the Mad Dog nickname?"

"Right—so we thought marriage was impossible."

"It's not."

Kite calmly called Ibelin.

"Ibelin."

She descended gracefully, with his help.

"Hello."

At her greeting, the rangers' eyes nearly popped out.

"I'm Ibelin, Kite's fiancée."

"He really is engaged!"

"Unbelievable!"

"So it's true!"

Grux smacked the lead ranger.

"Agh!"

"Don't listen to rumors."

"Ugh—but they're not entirely wrong, are they?"

Thus, the rangers concluded that Ibelin must be a kind, loving angel—only such a person could handle Kite.

She wanted to deny it, but couldn't interrupt their chatter.

"Apologies—our rangers are a loose-tongued lot. But they fight well."

"It's fine—they're amusing."

"Thank you—we'll take over escort duty. Rest and follow us—did you bring thick furs?"

"Yes."

"Good—you'll need to change soon."

Normally, temperatures rise gradually as you travel—but the North had a strange point where it suddenly became cold. So they changed as Grux advised.

"Wear more."

Kite made Ibelin wear extra layers.

"I can barely move in this."

She gave up trying to lift her leg.

"Don't worry."

He lifted her onto the wagon.

"Will you do this every time?"

"Of course—you're my fiancée."

At that, the rangers whistled. Their lightheartedness wasn't unpleasant—and seeing Kite tolerate them, they seemed like good people.

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