How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

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Fortunately, the voyage continued without any particular incident. About a week had passed. The fleet finally arrived at a small southern port of the Northern Continent, the Port of Kalhaven.

The cold dampness clung to my skin, seeping into my bones. I hunched my shoulders to ward off the chill and looked around. Tristan’s broad shoulders, draped in a long cloak, caught my eye. Just as I was about to look away, feeling as if I were peeking, Tristan suddenly turned toward me, and our gazes met.

Tristan frowned for a moment and then stepped forward, pressing the wide-brimmed hat he had been wearing firmly onto my head. It was a hat large enough to cover even my eyes. My vision completely obscured, I flailed, using my fingertips to lift the hat slightly and shouted.

“What are you doing?”

“It has been long since spring arrived, yet the air remains cold.”

His answer made no sense at all. This time, he even draped his thick cloak over my shoulders. Since it was his cloak, it was long enough to trail clumsily on the ground. Flustered, I could only move my lips uselessly without saying a word.

“Does the Grand Consort not even have a proper coat? People might think Hezekia treats you terribly.”

“No…”

Surely there must be a fur cloak somewhere in the cabin. It was not something from Hezekia but one brought at the time of my marriage. Hezekia would not have had the luxury to provide me with my own fur.

As I gazed up absentmindedly, Tristan seemed to have the same thought. He cleared his throat and muttered quietly.

“There is the fox fur from last year’s hunt, is there not? If it does not please you, I suppose there is nothing to be done.”

“Ah.”

Even though it had not been purchased for me, it seemed it had been made from the hunted fur. I could not recall clearly, as it had been from the time when the original Ruellin had been present. Still, feeling a bit guilty, I spoke comfortingly.

“Fur is too precious and cumbersome to move around in. That is why I had saved it.”

It was probably stored somewhere in the Grand Consort’s quarters in Hezekia. As long as the original Ruellin had not cut it up, that was fortunate.

“Then, here, you may use that cloak in the meantime.”

“And you, Your Grace…”

“The weather is fairly warm. I am fine, so use it freely.”

Hadn’t he just said it was still cold?

Leaving Tristan to his inconsistent ways, I turned to look around the port of the Northern Continent where we had just arrived.

As Tristan said, spring had long come, yet this land, first encountered after crossing the icy seas, felt bleak. Everything in sight was wet from snow and rain, blurred and hazy.

Perhaps because of the weather, the port was sparsely populated. I worried slightly about being rejected in this unfamiliar land, but everyone seemed preoccupied with their own business and paid us no attention.

The streets, overcast with low dark clouds, were slick with rain and mud. With each heavy step, the hem of the cloak Tristan had given me dragged on the ground. Tristan, who had stood silently in the cold rain without a hat, glanced down at me. I flinched instinctively, expecting a reprimand, though it was he who had handed it to me.

“You still need to grow taller, Grand Consort. Are you eating properly? Poor nutrition slows growth.”

What is he talking about…?

Tristan spoke a completely unexpected comment with a serious face. I am twenty-five years old… In this world, I might be slightly younger, but growth should have been long finished. I am not small; is it not strange that you are simply too tall?

At that moment, Constantine, who had been clinging to Tristan and dozing off, suddenly opened his eyes wide.

“That’s right! The Grand Consort must eat a lot!”

With the combined remarks of a relative whose strength and stamina were already recorded as infinite potential, I could only gape in bewilderment before closing my mouth again.

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“I’ve come to catch sneaky pirates, but this is the first time I’ve landed in such a barbaric place.”

“The weather is terrible, even more miserable than Hezekia. What could we possibly get from here? Would anyone in the capital even glance at what we purchase?”

“Still, perhaps the Grand Consort inherited the Elsworth Viscount’s stock here. Since we have come this far, we have no choice but to trust it once.”