Night Monarch's Cannon Fodder Bride-Chapter 30: Wolf’s Return

Precious things often slipped through one’s fingers. Or rather, it was only when they fell that one realized how precious they had been.

Severine found herself in much the same state.

Her past few days had fallen into the familiar rhythm of studying and managing her work.

Once, she met Emmett, but the young master was surrounded by his peers, giving her ample time to sneak away.

She had also gotten a reply from her mother.

[Alright.]

Though just one word, it settled her nerves.

As long as no one forced her to marry the second male lead, she could push through.

It happened then, catching her off guard.

An invitation to the banquet stamped with the name of Rhodes arrived.

As the owner of Vale Enterprise, it was only natural for an invitation to be sent to her parents. The problem lay elsewhere.

A separate invitation had been addressed to her alone.

She could almost see Damien’s teasing smirk, taunting her.

Much to her dismay, her father had called her that very morning, asking her to return.

"Can’t this mad dog stay in the hospital for a few more months?" Alina cursed for the fifteenth time.

The news of Damien’s accident had swept the academy like a hurricane, and so had his return.

Most likely, he would resume classes after the banquet.

"Sit down." Severine shook her head, helpless at the heroine spinning in the room.

Just the sight gave her a headache.

Alina snapped out of her rage and jumped beside Severine. The soft sofa bore the brunt of her motion, causing poor Severine to bobble.

"Say, will he make things difficult for you?"

Severine didn’t reply.

Was there even a need to ask?

"Can you not go?" Alina pressed, biting her lower lip in frustration. "You don’t even know how to curse. How the hell are you going to protect yourself? Do you have any friends in that circle?"

In Alina’s eyes, this young lady was a figure of solitude, always working in silence and never engaging in any light-hearted conversation. So it was unbelievable to have friends.

The more she looked at the doll-like lady, the more her yellow eyes brimmed with motherly affection.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Alina tilted her head in confusion.

Like you are looking at something fragile that needs your protection, Severine thought so, but never voiced it aloud.

Knowing Alina, the heroine would most likely nod along.

"I can protect myself." After a brief second, Severine added, "I know how to fight."

Alina’s gaze travelled to the pair of thin wrists and returned to the delicate face that could put even top actresses to shame.

Her lips parted and then closed. "... Bring a few more bodyguards with you."

Severine: "..."

"No, honestly, can’t we beat him up? How about secretly putting a sack on his head? He won’t even know who hit him."

The idea was disturbingly creative. It made Severine briefly wonder what exactly Alina’s childhood had been like.

"And then what?" Severine asked dryly. "Get beaten instead? Do you really think we can handle someone of his caliber?"

Alina fell silent.

The wolf bloodline granted Damien overwhelming physical strength.

Even setting aside their difference in status, the disparity in sheer power—and gender—was enough to crush them.

"Damn it... damn it... damn it..."

The sunlight no longer felt warm.

"Who knows," Severine said with a wistful sigh, "maybe he’s already forgotten about us."

She didn’t believe it. Neither did Alina, who had started muttering something about black magic.

Still, Damien’s recovery exceeded Severine’s expectations. She had assumed it would take at least a month before he could walk properly on his own.

Fate, however, seemed to have other plans. It always did when she was involved.

"Did the wolf bloodline possess healing properties?" Alina asked.

"No."

There had been no such setting in the novel.

If Damien really possessed such a miraculous power, he would have used it during the accident when he was on the verge of death.

More likely, it was simply the high resistance of an Awakener. They fell ill far less often than normal humans.

"What will it take for him to leave us alone?"

"Maybe..." Severine paused before chuckling, "How about you use your beauty trick on him?"

Alina’s round face scrunched up. Her eyes gleamed with visible disgust. A shiver ran down her body, forcing her to rub her arms.

"Ew, gross... Your Highness," she said through clenched teeth, "don’t joke about things like that. And if anything, you would be the better choice."

"You both are Awakeners. I am just a defective piece. There is no value in me."

Perhaps Severine had heard those words too many times. They easily slipped past her tongue, giving Alina a shock.

"Stop such weird talk!" Alina snapped, annoyed at how Severine saw herself as having no value. "Let’s focus on the banquet. You can bring a person with you, right?"

Severine nodded. The invitation had allowed one to bring in their partner.

"How about taking me with you?"

Severine imagined a scene of a grand hall where all the male leads would surround Alina.

But Alina wasn’t a broken soul. She could actually break their bones if provoked.

And both Damien and Emmett had left a terrible impression on the heroine.

Under such circumstances, if Severine really took this angry kitten to the banquet, it was hard to say what would happen.

They might end up calling the police or ambulance. Or possibly both.

"No need. It isn’t my first banquet."

Alina understood it, yet she couldn’t get rid of the strange anxiety bubbling inside her chest.

As a cat Awakener, her senses had always been keen, and so was her intuition, which was going crazy.

It felt as though an invisible thread was tugging at her, urging her to follow Severine. As if she would lose something otherwise.

But what was there to lose?

And if she went there, she’d get to beat up a few lunatics. That sounded rather appealing to her.

The clock struck the time decided for her driver.

"Alright, but if anything happens, ring me up. I’ll be there in a minute."

"Hmm."

Severine grabbed her purse and left the dorm room.

Throughout the journey, her heart didn’t settle back. Maybe she, too, was affected by Alina’s emotions.

When the familiar gate appeared in her view, she took a deep breath and stepped inside the mansion.

Despite it being early, the place was filled with people. She easily recognized her makeup team and the stylist.

Rest must be for Austin, she thought while greeting the people gathered in the main hall.

Aunt May was by her side, taking her bag. "Master is in his study. Would you like to see him?"

"Did he ask for me?"

"No," Aunt May replied.

What was I expecting anyway? Shaking those stupid thoughts, she went toward her room.

She had set a strict rule. No one was allowed to enter her room. Even the cleaning was done when she was there.

If she wasn’t present, then only Aunt May was allowed to do so.

The staff knew this well, so the stylists and attendants were guided to the guest room on the second floor.

The moment Severine stepped into her room, the tension drained from her shoulders.

"Let’s get it over with," she muttered.

The wardrobe swung open, and in there lay dresses from different designers.

Most of them were ordered by Isabella. Every year, she would receive a new batch of winter and summer collections.

She had always considered them as gifts from her mother.

However, with all her memories returning to her, she couldn’t say the same anymore.

Despite those dreams of her death being hazy, she could vaguely recall a few details. Her father didn’t offer any help after knowing all the details.

To save his business, he directly put Austin at the front.

Perhaps it was his way of shielding her, but it clearly didn’t work.

While her mother, whom she had always looked up to, didn’t even come to look for her.

From beginning to end, she didn’t see Isabella.

"If I were an Awakener, would you still be so indifferent to my death, mother?"

Though she didn’t dare to ask such a question directly to Isabella. She was afraid that answer would break something inside her.

Taking a bath, she followed Aunt May toward the guest room. Funnily, the room filled with make-up and clothes felt like a warzone to her.

"Shall we begin?" The stylist asked with an eager smile. "Here are the dresses."

It was up to Severine to select one, and the following things would proceed accordingly.

White. Pink. Pastel green. Pale Yellow and so on.

These were the colors she was used to wearing. Isabella preferred softer tones after all.

The choice was in her hand, yet the one pulling the strings had always been her mother, hadn’t she? And the stupid her never noticed it before.