Because of their sharp, thorn-like leaves, coniferous trees could prick people or ruin expensive clothes if planted in a garden.
And it's not like they were tall enough to be used as windbreaks or for insulation either.
At best, they grew to chest height—usually only to the waist.
Yet their roots grew so deep and wide, it was hard to imagine.
Who in their right mind would want one of those in their garden?
“Your Highness, if I may—where do you intend to use them?”
“In the far north.”
“The far north? But that area is entirely made up of mines—no one will be around to appreciate ornamental trees.”
“Won’t the miners see them? Isn’t it too heartless to give them only ice and frozen earth?”
Helena didn’t know what to say.
Should she commend the duchess for her thoughtfulness?
Or should she advise against such pointless sentiment?
“Who knows? Maybe they’ll make decent kindling in the cold.”
“Ha.”
Helena couldn’t help but laugh at the duchess’s innocent remark.
“Bakran doesn’t burn well, you know.”
“…Why?”
“Because its roots grow so deep, it tends to hold more moisture than other trees. That makes it hard to catch fire—it only smokes harshly. Even when it does burn, it doesn’t burn well.
That’s why, despite growing so prolifically in the north, Bakran never became widespread.
It grows well, but that’s all it does—it’s useless otherwise.”
Helena explained in a more relaxed tone.
She didn’t want to see disappointment cloud the duchess’s face, but she wanted even less to watch that face twist in despair from a harsh reality later on.
“Oh… is that so?”
But then—what was this?
That tiny, pale face suddenly lit up.
Unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, the duchess was smiling.
No—she was
beaming
.
“That’s perfect!”
Ione couldn’t quite control her expression.
She had just confirmed something that came up in a later episode of the original story.
It wasn’t one of the main events involving the hero and heroine, so she had assumed it would be safe.
She had once tried to distribute a product early—something the heroine would later use as a money-maker—and nearly got struck by lightning for it.
Literally.
It happened just as she tried to secure a distribution deal.
She hadn’t even stolen the idea yet—only approached the sellers—and then, bam, lightning struck. Twice.
She hadn’t realized it the first time, but by the second, she understood:
Do. Not. Interfere. With. Main. Events.
Still, she had expected some complications.
Because…
“The mine was already running out. Even if it closed, it wouldn’t have been a big deal…”
“Don’t blame yourself, Adrian. You’re not a god.”
That mine collapse had led the heroine to comfort Adrian, showing him kindness as a person, not a duke.
It was a turning point—one where Adrian began to realize just how much he had been burdened all his life without even noticing.
The heroine’s support helped their love grow deeper.
Adrian had already been falling for her—every breath, every glance pulling him in.
It wasn’t a grand public event, so Ione figured she could intervene this time.
Still, she clutched the bead Penelope had given her like a lifeline.
She was nervous—if a lightning strike came again, she’d teleport to safety.
Somewhere like the first basement level—no windows, no risk of storms.
She glanced outside.
The sky was unusually clear.
A spotless blue, not a cloud in sight—it looked like it would stay sunny for hours.
“Thank goodness.”
Maybe she was still safe because she hadn’t
acted
yet.
But with how smoothly things were going, maybe planting the tree wouldn’t be a problem after all.
And if something went wrong, she’d just stay underground all day.
“Are you… happy?”
“Yes, I am.”
She nodded at Helena’s skeptical expression.
Too bad if she was disappointed that it couldn’t be used as firewood.
As long as the tunnels didn’t collapse, that was all that mattered.
“Then please proceed as we discussed.”
“Yes, I’ll make arrangements.”
“As soon as possible.”
Bakran grows in mid-winter.
If planted in early winter, it will spread busily underground all season and push up new shoots by spring.
They were slightly late, but the far north hadn’t yet been touched by the harshest cold.
Miss this window, and it would be too late.
It would take time for the roots to grow.
They needed to reach wide and deep—strong enough to hold up the crumbling earth.
At least three years of growth would be necessary.
Ione started counting in her head.
If she planted them this year, next year they’d cover the mine fully.
And by the year after that, their roots would be dense enough to prevent collapse.
Because…
She frowned suddenly.
She couldn’t remember when the mine collapse happened.
“What…?”
She had just remembered it clearly, hadn’t she?
She even recalled the dialogue from the original story.
But no matter how hard she tried, the date wouldn’t come to her.
Ione went pale.
“Wait… I
knew
this just moments ago…”
She was the type to get absorbed and forget her surroundings, but not once since arriving in this world had she forgotten a major plot point.
Whenever she needed, she could recall scenes from
The Monster Duke’s Bride
as if flipping through the pages in her mind.
So she’d never bothered writing anything down.
“Think…”
If the trees take root now, they’ll spread by next year. But was it next year the mine collapsed?
‘Wait. That happened after the original Ione died. If I count backward from when I leave, I should be able to estimate…’
She tried to calculate furiously.
But then let out a groan.
“…Ugh.”
She couldn’t remember how long her marriage lasted.
“You bought Bakran?”
Adrian summoned Helena.
He had been reviewing the duchess’s first expenditure report and was utterly baffled.
“Yes, Your Grace. She said she would plant them around the far northern mines.”
“The
mines
?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Did you explain what Bakran is?”
“Of course. I gave her the full report on the greenhouse and garden operations. She reviewed it herself and chose Bakran.”
“Her first private purchase… is
Bakran
. For the mines.
Did you ask her why?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Why not gemstones or something more portable?”
“…Pardon?”
Wouldn’t that make more sense if she were planning to run away?
But instead, she’s planting trees?
What on earth was she thinking?
Adrian tilted his head in curiosity.
“Lady-in-waiting.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Go ask her again. Confirm whether she really wants to buy Bakran. And tell her—the mines will be shut down within a few years.”
“…Pardon?”
Mine operations were a closely guarded secret, known only to the domain’s ruler.
Mines were extremely valuable—owning them determined one's status in society and politics.
Yet Adrian was openly sharing this.
“Your Grace, should I really be hearing this…”
“I don’t care.”
“I swear I will take this to my grave.”
“It doesn’t matter. All the mines will be closed soon anyway. Everyone will know eventually—it’s just a matter of time.”
“The people… will be shocked.”
Helena looked somber.
The frozen land had little else to offer—those mines were its only lifeline.
“I’ll make sure their lives remain unchanged. Don’t worry.”
“I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”
“The duchess doesn’t know the mines will be abandoned.
She must think she’s doing something kind with that barren land. So go ask her again.”
Find out what she’s really up to.
Adrian said it gently, but there was a glint of deep curiosity in his eyes.
“Why do you need me to scan the area? You said you just needed my eyes.”
Penelope’s voice was sharp, reacting to Seton’s request.
Seton had expected this and replied smoothly.
“Yes, your eyes. The nests are spread out evenly. Somewhere among them is the main one. If we track them carefully, we can find the core.”
“And?”
“They’re all over the place. Don’t tell me you want to check each one by hand? That’s why I need
your
eyes.”
“Don’t play word games. You’re just trying to steal the duchess away.”
“The duchess is
married
to the duke. You think you could ever have her?
If I wanted to get rid of you, I could bury you myself.”
“Oh, scary. I almost felt threatened just now.”
She said it lightly, but her eyes burned.
They gleamed with obsession—like someone about to lose a coveted treasure.