Chapter 177: Angry Wife Snow drifted gently over the city that evening, thin white flakes tumbling lazily through the gray sky. The storm had passed; the streets were calm. Two men walked side by side. Azel who was calm chewed casually on a skewer of grilled fish, each bite slow and thoughtful. He looked like a man enjoying the simple comforts of life. His companion, however, resembled a man on his way to the gallows. Alani hunched forward, silver hair falling into his eyes, lips moving in rapid mutters. His boots crunched nervously on the frozen cobblestones. Every few steps, he groaned like someone already mourning his own funeral. "So..." Azel asked lightly, licking his fingers, "what exactly are you going to tell your wife?" Alani stiffened as if stabbed. "W-what do you mean?" "I mean what I said." Azel smirked at him. "You left home weak and scrawny. You’re coming back taller, bulkier, clearly stronger. She’ll notice. What’s your excuse?" Alani scratched furiously at the back of his neck. "I’ll... I’ll come up with something on the fly." "Mhm." Azel’s doubtful hum said enough. They walked a few more steps in silence, snow crunching, lantern light glowing on their faces. Alani’s thoughts raced. Sweat dampened his palms despite the cold. ’Alright, think. Option one.’ He straightened a little, muttering under his breath. "Honey, I fell into the river, and when I crawled out, I was suddenly like this." He pictured her eyes narrowing, her lips pressing thin. Then came the inevitable — her fist smashing into his jaw. Alani winced so hard his whole body flinched. ’No good. Instant knockout.’ ’Option two. "Honey, I prayed to the ancestors, and they blessed me."’ He imagined her folding her arms. "And you didn’t pray for me too?" Then came the slap which was sharp and merciless. Alani groaned aloud. ’Option three... Ah! "Honey, I ate a glowing fish that made me strong."’ For a moment, it sounded clever. Then he pictured her expression darken. "And where’s mine?" Her foot swung into his ribs. "Oww..." Alani muttered just from imagining it. Azel gave him a sidelong glance. "Are you seriously practicing excuses right now?" Alani ignored him. He was deep in his own spiral. ’Option four: "Honey, my uncle Elyon slipped some secret tonic into my food."’ He pictured her glaring. "So you let Elyon experiment on you? Again?!" She grabbed the nearest pan and threw it. Alani actually covered his head with his arms as though the imaginary pan might hit him. "Goddess above, I’m doomed," he whispered. Azel exhaled slowly, like a teacher dealing with a stubborn student. "She really can’t be that scary. She seemed kind when I saw her at the stall." Alani shot him a haunted look. "...You’ll see." The stall came into view just then, firelight flickering warmly against the falling snow. Smoke rose in thin curls from the coals. The smell of grilled fish wrapped around them like a blanket. Customers stood waiting with ares in hand. Behind the stall, Alani’s wife worked diligently. Her apron was tied neat around her waist, hair pinned up carefully. She moved with practiced grace, flipping skewers with quick precision. She handed over a pack with a polite smile. Right now, she was the image of a hardworking, kind woman. Azel tilted his head. "See? Nothing to fear." Then she looked up. Her eyes landed first on Azel. "My prince," she said with soft respect, bowing her head. "Did you see him?" Alani froze. His pupils shrank. ’So she can be respectful?!’ His jaw nearly dropped. ’She has that voice?! Why does she never use it on me?!’ "Yes," Azel replied simply, pointing beside him. Her gaze shifted to Alani. Her face transformed like storm clouds rolling in — shock, disbelief, fury, relief... all flashing across her features in seconds. Then she moved. One moment she was behind the stall, the next she was a blur. WHAM. Her leg swept behind his, taking him down hard. Snow exploded beneath him as he hit the ground. In the same motion, she twisted his arm behind his back and planted her knee firmly into his spine. "Motherfucker," she hissed, leaning close. "You’re late. You swore you wouldn’t do anything dangerous anymore. And now the prince had to drag you back?!" "H-honey, wait—ow, OW! My arm!" Alani yelped. "Is this how you treat your pregnant wife?!" she snarled, yanking harder. "I-I wasn’t—AHHH!" The sound of his whining echoed down the street, but not a single passerby blinked. A woman carrying bread glanced over, shook her head, and kept walking. A pair of children giggled. An old man muttered, "Every damn week," as he strolled past. Azel stood calmly nearby, chewing his skewer. He watched with detached interest, as if observing a strange animal. "I see now," he said under his breath. "The kind, smiling stall woman was a mask. This is the real her." He took another bite, his expression unreadable. ’Hopefully Veyra doesn’t do this to me.’ At last, she released him, dusted her hands, and stood up straight. She turned to Azel, bowed deeply, and walked back to her stall with composed dignity, as though nothing had happened. Alani lay flat in the snow, cheeks flushed pink, eyes half-dazed. Despite the throbbing pain, there was the faintest, ridiculous smile tugging at his lips. Azel stared at him. "...Is he... actually enjoying this?" He shook his head, refusing to dwell on it. Just as he turned to leave, the woman hurried after him, holding a neatly wrapped bundle. She bowed again, voice warm, respectful, almost gentle. "My prince," she said. "I don’t know what you did for my husband, but now he’s strong enough to pursue his dream. Please accept this. It’s a special fish he caught yesterday. I prepared it myself." Azel took the bundle with a small smile. "Thank you." For a fleeting moment, he thought maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. Then, as he turned away, she stomped on Alani’s head for good measure, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him inside the stall. Azel paused. Snowflakes fell quietly around him. "...Yes, she’s that bad." He sighed, adjusting the package in his hand, and bit into his skewer again. "Well," he muttered, walking off down the snowy street, "at least I got the fish."