Morning light always came late to the Northern Frontier, and the snow beyond the window remained silent.
But Louis, lord of the Red Tide Fief, was already awake.
He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was blue hair like the reflection in an icy lake, falling softly over the blankets. Its owner lay quietly in his arms, breathing evenly, a faint smile on her lips.
He turned his head slightly and saw another splash of white. A girl with short, silver-white hair was curled up on his other side, still hugging his arm. She slept soundly, her brows slightly furrowed as though she felt cold.
"Ah, a Northern Frontier lord's mornings really are this simple and unpretentious." Louis sighed.
Without disturbing his two wives beside him, he quietly rolled over and sat up.
Heavy snow continued to fall. Geothermal heat flowed beneath his feet, filling the bedroom with warmth. He draped a thick cloak over himself and walked barefoot to the desk.
Snowpeak Commandery had indeed become much more stable lately.
With most of the Brood Hives drawn toward Frost Glaive City, the entire Northern Frontier's attention was now focused there.
Louis's "remote mountain backwater," on the other hand, had become the only safe zone where people could still catch their breath.
The insect corpses were gradually being eliminated, the defensive lines held firm, and he finally had a little breathing room as a lord.
Of course, that "breathing room" only meant he no longer had to rush from place to place.
Louis rubbed his temples, thinking of the piles of urgent letters from nobles across the surrounding commanderies, all "requests for aid" and "petitions for refuge."
But he had neither the resources to expand nor any interest in becoming the Northern Frontier's savior.
"Expansion? Rescue missions?