Exiled Prince: I'm the Unexpected Extra in the Novel-Chapter 116: The War for the North[4] Meeting the Duchess
In that magnificent bedroom of Frosthelm Keep, adorned with ice-blue and silver embellishments, time seemed frozen.
However, this stillness was not caused by the magic of the Mystical Beast Cryomara, but by the strange, tragicomic, and deadly tension of the atmosphere inside.
"God Slayer", "Prince of Nothingness", Cassian, that fearless warrior who brought a god to its knees in his own dimension... was currently in the most pathetic position of his life.
He was crouching on both knees in the corner of the room, at the base of the ice-covered wall. His hands were placed neatly on his legs with the discipline of a student.
He had bowed his head, fixing his eyes on the fur of the white polar bear skin on the floor.
On the left side of his face, a crimson, five-fingered, very clear handprint that would probably not fade for a few days shone from his cheek to his chin.
A thin trail of blood seeping from a cut on his forehead had run down to the tip of his nose and was dripping onto the carpet from there.
This was the work of Duchess Cecilia Frosthelm’s rage.
Cassian had constructed hundreds of scenarios in his head while coming here.
He would sneak into the Duchess’s room, leave the letter on the bed, then disappear, and when he returned the next day, he would make a deal with the Duchess.
In the Duchess’s eyes, Cassian was supposed to be a hero, a savior, and Cassian would have her wrapped around his finger.
The plan was flawless.
Until he decided to pick up and examine those damn white panties.
The plans had not only backfired but literally exploded in Cassian’s face.
When Cecilia came out of the bathroom and saw Cassian in that state, she sealed the room without hesitating for a second and pinned Cassian to the wall with an ice spell.
Just as she was about to perforate him right there as a pervert with ice spears, despite the ice knife pressed against his throat, Cassian managed to scream, "THE BED! LOOK AT THE BED!"
And now the execution was postponed.
Cecilia Frosthelm had hastily but with a noble stance put on a thick, dark blue velvet dressing gown. Her wet, silver-blue hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, spreading a light scent of shampoo into the room.
She sat on the edge of her bed and fixed her icy, piercing gaze on this young man kneeling before her.
In her hand, she held that thick stack of parchment and sealed letters that Cassian had managed to leave on the bed.
The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and the rustling Cecilia made as she turned the pages.
Cecilia’s blue eyes meticulously examined every line, every word of the letter.
Was this a trap? Was it a new game of the Obsidian Dawn? Or was this perverted boy really a friend as he claimed?
Her eyes shifted to the seals under the parchments.
The lion seal of the Countdom of Amberfield. The crescent symbol of Mooncrest. The sword of Veythral. And most importantly... The personal, magically glowing stormbird seal of the Marquessate of Evershade, of that stubborn and proud Aldren Stormvale.
Cecilia’s fingers traced over the Evershade seal. The mana signature on the seal was genuine. It could not be forged. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶
Aldren Stormvale had personally approved what was written in this letter.
As she read the letter, a small spark appeared in Cecilia’s dull, hopeless gaze.
Amberfield, Mooncrest, Evershade, and Veythral... They were all declaring that they were ready to support Frosthelm with their armies and resources, and even raise a resistance army across the Empire.
This was the help she had been waiting for, praying for months, even years, but which never came.
Cecilia slowly placed the letter and parchments in her hand on the edge of the bed.
She took a deep breath and turned her gaze back to Cassian, who was still kneeling on the floor like a guilty child.
Her voice was as cold, distant, and emotionless as the winds of the North.
"These..." Cecilia said, pointing to the parchments. "Are these true?"
Without lifting his head, Cassian whispered, his voice suppressed by shame and the pain of the slap he received.
"Yes."
Cecilia closed her eyes. She was fighting a war between her logic and her emotions. Frosthelm had been in a hell for a long time.
Her parents had been killed, her people were being slaughtered, her borders were invaded. And throughout this time, no one, including the Empire, had extended a single helping hand. Everyone had left them to die.
So why now? Why, all of a sudden, was such a miraculous offer coming along with this strange boy who snuck into her room in the middle of the night? Could this be a trap set by the Obsidian Dawn to conquer the castle from within?
"Why now?" Cecilia asked, her voice hardening.
Cassian lifted his head slightly but dared not make eye contact.
"I don’t understand?"
"After all this time, why now?" Cecilia repeated, her voice sounding stifled. "The majority of my people have been killed or have left the North and fled south. Half of my army is either dead or betrayed me. I have almost no people left to defend. We are in the weakest, most desperate period of our history."
She put more pressure on Cassian.
"What changed after all this time that so many regions, so many lords willing to help suddenly appeared? Did an angel of goodness suddenly possess them all? Or did their sense of justice swell up?"
Cecilia warned Cassian as if revealing a bitter truth. "Don’t tell me fairy tales, boy. No one wants to board a sinking ship."
Cassian tried to clear his mind, shaking off the effect of the beating he took. Cecilia was right. She was absolutely right to be suspicious. There was no unrequited aid in politics.
"They didn’t suddenly turn into angels of goodness," Cassian said, his voice clearer now. He lifted his head and looked into Cecilia’s eyes. The handprint on his cheek was throbbing. "They got scared."
"They got scared?"
"Yes. Because I showed them the truth," Cassian said. "Our enemy is the same: Obsidian Dawn. And I told them this: If Frosthelm falls, they will be the next target. Evershade, Mooncrest, Amberfield... They will all fall one by one."
Cassian took a deep breath.
"Did they just realize this now?" Cecilia asked with a bitter laugh.
"No," Cassian said honestly. "Actually, most were aware of the danger but preferred to bury their heads in the sand. They were deceiving themselves saying ’The North will hold’, ’They won’t come to us’. I just... forced their heads out of that sand and showed them the approaching storm."
Cecilia deduced a meaning from what this boy said as if he were someone important, but he was just a boy, yet what he said made sense. Self-interest was the strongest motivation.
"Alright," she said, her voice slightly softer but still skeptical. "Let’s say this alliance is real. Let’s say armies are on the way. But there is one more claim in the letter."
She pointed to the last paragraph of the letter with her finger.
"Here... It says ’You can heal my people’. It says you can cleanse that damned epidemic."
Cecilia fixed her piercing gaze on Cassian again.
"How do you intend to do this? I hope you are not making such a claim just to deceive us without a solution, without an antidote. Because I would rather die than give my people false hope."
Cassian raised his hand in a timid manner like a child asking to speak in school.
"I..." said Cassian. "I can heal your people."
Cecilia frowned. "You? How will you do that? You are a child of 13-14 years, even younger than me. Even the best healers of the Empire were helpless against this disease."
"I can use Holy Mana," Cassian said, his voice full of confidence.
"Holy Mana?" A cynical expression appeared on Cecilia’s face. "Are you kidding? Holy Mana is only found in those chosen by the Gods and in saints. And the world hasn’t had a new Saint for years since the last Saint disappeared."
"Are you... a Saint?" There was a vague cynicism and coldness in her voice; if the boy was lying, she would kill him right there and teach a lesson to those who sent this fake letter.
Her eyes narrowed remembering that "perverted" behavior Cassian had just displayed. It was highly unlikely for a Saint to examine a woman’s underwear.
"No," Cassian said immediately. "I am not a Saint. I have nothing to do with it."
"Look boy, my patience has a limit and you are about to cross it. Stop beating around the bush and tell me the truth."
Cassian looked away. In his mind, those white lights of the laboratory, Dr. Aris’s needles, and those burning fluids forcibly injected into his veins came to life.
Instead of talking more, Cassian chose to prove it. Just as he did in Evershade, he raised his hand in the air. He focused.
SNAP!
The moment he snapped his fingers, a dazzling, golden-yellow sphere of light appeared in the center of the room, amidst that ice-blue decoration.
Pure, intense Holy Mana that instantly broke the coldness of the room, radiating peace and warmth wherever it touched.
Cecilia’s cold, ice mask shattered at that moment. She jumped to her feet in astonishment. Her blue eyes were locked onto that golden sun. The heavy, sorrowful air inside the room dispersed, leaving the peace of a temple in its place.
She knew that what she saw could not be imitated. This was pure holy mana.
"You..." Cecilia whispered, reaching her hand towards that light. "How can you?"
She had already understood that this boy was not ordinary from the fact that he entered her room overcoming such powerful spells and guards. But this... this was much more than a mage.
Cassian spoke. "It’s a bit hard to explain," he said, his voice becoming stifled. "And I can’t say I acquired this power through very pleasant methods."
While Cecilia was throwing off her surprise and preparing to question Cassian more deeply, the atmosphere in the room changed once again.
But this time, the change did not stem from the Holy Mana.
The air in the room grew heavy. Even the warmth of the Holy Mana trembled before this ancient, crushing pressure that suddenly appeared. This was a spiritual pressure rather than a physical weight. It was as if a mountain had been fitted inside the room.
Cassian felt his breath cut short. "Dragon Heart" automatically kicked in against this pressure, trying to protect his mind and body.
But still, he felt as if there were tons of weight on his shoulders.
From the open window of the room, through the blizzard outside, a tiny, delicate thing glided in.
A blue butterfly as small as a palm, looking as if made of ice, its wings shining like the northern lights.
The butterfly glided slowly inside the room. Cecilia fell silent the moment she saw this butterfly.
The butterfly came over Cassian and slowly landed on his white hair.
At that moment, Cassian felt that massive power, as deep as oceans, hidden inside that tiny body. This was no different from a god.
This was the Guardian of the North, the Mystical Beast Cryomara.
With the landing of the butterfly, thoughts rather than words and an icy echo appeared in Cassian’s mind. An ancient and absolute voice belonging to a woman.
"Heir of Kaiser..."
The butterfly flapped its wings slightly.
"Tell us... your true purpose."
