Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 133
‘Enchanted, hypnotized eyes.’
Indeed, it was a bit strange.
But what could they do? There was nothing to be done now, as they were heading north.
As they moved from the west to the north, the weather grew increasingly colder. The broad leaves began to wilt, while the sharp, pointed leaves grew more abundant.
As the cold wind blew and their bodies began to shiver, they arrived at the outskirts of the northern country.
Shivering from the unfamiliar cold, Burt suddenly appeared with a fur cloak and draped it over her shoulders.
Thanks to this, the chill in her body subsided, but the cloak was too large.
As she staggered along, half-dragging it, something was placed on her head this time—a fur hat with an animal’s tail still attached. Then, something was wrapped around her neck as well.
“A scarf.”
“How am I supposed to walk with all of this on?”
“Shall I carry you?”
The thought of being carried wrapped in a thick fur cloak seemed far from dignified. Irene politely declined.
“No, thank you.”
Though the immediate chill was gone, it wasn’t long before she began to feel overly warm. Still, if she let go of the cloak, the cold wind would return.
Peeking out with only her eyes visible, she moved carefully and soon noticed something strange. Burt hadn’t added anything extra to his usual attire.
And Irene’s cloak was excessively large. It seemed that this cloak was Burt’s after all.
“Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m used to it, so I’m fine.”
“This cloak, it’s originally yours, isn’t it?”
“Right now, it belongs to you, Lady Irene.”
He has a way with words. In that state, they greeted the village chief and headed toward the inn located in the center of the village.
However, as they arrived in front of the inn, they saw a large wolf lying there.
Startled, Irene looked more closely and noticed that its appearance was strangely different from a wolf’s. Its eyes were like round buttons, and its chubby cheeks gave it an oddly gentle look.
“Is it not a wolf?”
She muttered to herself, and Burt explained from beside her.
“It’s a dog.”
“What kind of dog is this big?”
“I did say it was big.”
She thought he was half-joking, but it really was enormous. She wasn’t sure if it was bigger than Burt, but it was definitely larger than Irene.
“Oh, guests, you’ve arrived. The dog is gentle, so you can pet it. It’s the darling of our inn,”
Said the innkeeper, coming out to greet them.
Irene wore a doubtful expression.
Was it really safe to touch such a large creature? She was a saint, so she wouldn’t be attacked, but would others be as fortunate?
While she was contemplating, Noah stepped forward and placed his hand on the dog’s head.
“Noah!”
She cried out in fright, but what she imagined did not happen.
When Noah scratched the dog’s head, it seemed pleased, panting with its tongue out. Its round eyes were half-closed, which looked rather adorable.
“It seems safe.”
“Yes, it does look that way. Still, how could you rush in so recklessly like that? What if you got hurt?”
“The innkeeper said it was fine,”
Noah replied casually, stepping aside slightly to let Irene and Burt enter first.
“Ugh.”
Irene moved her heavy body and barely climbed the steps.
She wasn’t worried about falling. Burt was right behind her, following closely, which meant at least she wouldn’t fall backward.
Upon entering the inn, a fire was blazing in the stove. In the warm air, Irene now found herself panting.
“I’ll help you take it off.”
Noticing this, Lani quickly approached and untied the scarf.
Noah took the hat, and the only thing left was the cloak, which Burt retrieved.
Finally, she felt a bit more alive.
“Dinner is ready.”
Come to think of it, she was hungry. As she sat down, the staff promptly brought out the meal.
It was a dish with tenderly simmered meat seasoned to perfection, accompanied by a hot tomato stew and a side of well-roasted meat.
In short, it was a meal filled with meat. The only thing containing flour was a small, round bread served as an appetizer. There seemed to be fewer vegetables compared to what she had eaten elsewhere.
“But what is this red meat?”
When she pointed to the springy, red pieces seasoned with the meat, Burt answered calmly.
“It’s coagulated cow’s blood.”
Her fingers, which had just been about to scoop it up with a spoon, halted.
“What did you say?”
“I said it’s coagulated blood.”
“Then what about this in the stew?”
“That’s the innards. To be more specific, it’s the cow’s—”
“No, that’s okay. I think it’s better not to know.”
Irene refused to hear any more details.
