Ophelia's shoulders visibly relaxed a bit, and she looked up, a trace of relief flashing in her eyes that was almost imperceptible.
She followed behind Klein, her steps slightly lighter than when she had first arrived.
The two left the courtyard and walked along the stone path toward the wheat fields.
Sunlight spilled over the road, and the scent of roses drifted by on the breeze.
Klein glanced at the blooming flowers along the path and then at Ophelia behind him.
She walked quietly, her hem swaying gently with each step.
However, her tense face was even more serious than usual.
Her gaze swept through the woods on both sides of the road from time to time, as if she were on guard.
Klein couldn't help but speak up, "You don't need to be so nervous."
Ophelia looked at him.
"I'm not nervous."
"Your hands are clutching your dress so hard it's about to wrinkle," Klein said with a smile.
Ophelia looked down at her hands and realized she had indeed bunched the pale gold fabric into several creases.
She quickly let go and patted her skirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.
But the marks remained.
The tips of her ears turned slightly red, yet she said nothing, merely quickening her pace to keep up with Klein.
Watching her reaction, a slight smile tugged at the corner of Klein's mouth.
This Knightess truly was interesting sometimes.
The wheat fields were just ahead, with golden waves of grain rising and falling in the wind like a surging sea of gold.
Klein owned land, but he never had to farm it himself.
He was a lord, a noble, and a landowner; his fields didn't require his manual labor.
At this moment, several farmers were bent over in the field, reaping the wheat.
Sweat dripped down their cheeks, disappearing quickly into the soil.
One of the older men straightened his back, and upon seeing Klein, he reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
"My Lord," the man called out, his tone quite casual.
Klein nodded.
"How is the wheat growing?"
"It's good," the man grinned, revealing a few crooked teeth.
"The rain was good this year, so the harvest should be ten percent more than last year. You are in luck, My Lord."
"You as well," Klein said, asking no further questions.
The man didn't say more either, turning back to continue his reaping.
The sound of the sickle cutting through the stalks was rhythmic and somewhat hypnotic.
Ophelia stood beside Klein, her gaze sweeping over the busy farmers in the wheat field.
She noticed their movements were highly practiced, the angle of each sickle stroke perfectly placed.
The stalks were cut, tied into bundles, and stacked neatly on the ridges of the field.
She had never seen such a scene on the west coast.
There, there were only sea breezes, reefs, and waves that never ceased.
She stared at that golden wheat field for a long time, long enough for Klein to notice.
"What is it?" Klein asked.
Ophelia shook her head.
"Nothing," she said.
"I just... feel it is very... peaceful?"
She had searched her mind to find such a word.
Klein smiled.
"It was always peaceful here," he said.
"There are no sea monsters and no war—only wheat and the sun."
Ophelia didn't speak.
Her golden eyes remained fixed on the field, a trace of complex emotion flashing in her gaze.
Klein continued walking aimlessly; he had truly come out just to clear his head and check the harvest in his territory.
The sunlight hit the golden waves of wheat, and the air was filled with the unique fragrance of straw mixed with the scent of earth, which felt grounding.
Ophelia followed him, her hands hanging at her sides.
The two walked like this for a long time.
Klein occasionally stopped to examine the ears of wheat in the field, and Ophelia would stand by and wait.
She didn't speak, and Klein didn't ask.
When the sun climbed directly overhead, Klein stopped his pace.
"It's about time for lunch," he said.
Ophelia nodded.
The two turned to walk back.
On the way, they met several women carrying baskets toward the fields, filled with bread and water.
They were bringing food to the men still working in the fields.
Someone recognized Klein and called out "My Lord" from a distance.
Klein nodded in acknowledgment but said little else.
As they walked past the field ridges and back onto the stone path, the scenery gradually shifted from wheat fields to forest.
This stretch of road was sparsely populated, with only the rustle of wind through the leaves.
The shadows of the trees on both sides were mottled, and sunlight leaked through the branches, casting fine spots of light on the ground.
Klein was just thinking about what to eat for lunch when Ophelia's voice came from behind him.
"I..."
Klein stopped and turned around.
Ophelia stood there, her golden eyes looking at him.
She opened her mouth, paused for a few seconds, and then continued.
"Am I... bringing you trouble?"
Her voice was very light, almost swept away by the wind.
Klein was stunned for a moment.
Ophelia's tone was calm, but Klein understood her meaning.
She thought Eric was here for her.
She felt she was a burden to him.
Klein looked at her.
Ophelia's expression was serious, and while there were no emotional fluctuations in her eyes, her fingers tightened slightly.
Her fingertips pressed against her skirt with enough force to slightly indent the fabric.
"Why would you think that?" Klein asked.
Ophelia was silent for a few seconds.
"The way Eric looked at me wasn't right."
She said, her golden pupils dimming slightly, "He should know me. Or rather... he knows who I am."
Klein didn't speak.
He had indeed noticed that detail.
Even though Klein hadn't told Eric her name, the man's eyes had held confirmation.
And fear.
"Do you know him?" Klein asked.
Ophelia shook her head.
"I don't."
"What happened on the west coast isn't a secret. If he truly is from the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce, then he must know what you did there," Klein consoled her casually.
Ophelia was an honorary knight of the empire; although she had been sent to this rural place, her reputation wouldn't vanish overnight.
Especially regarding the west coast, the matter of the sea monsters hadn't happened that long ago.
Eric was a trader with many sources; it wasn't strange for him to know of her.
After all, even a rural noble like himself, who had little interest in the empire's affairs, knew Ophelia was a great hero of the west coast; it would be weirder if Eric didn't know.
"Even if he is here for you, it wouldn't be your fault," Klein said.
Ophelia looked up.
For the first time, a look of hesitation appeared on her face, and a trace of vulnerability he had never seen before flashed in her golden eyes.
"If I cause you trouble because of me..."
"Then that is my own choice," Klein interrupted her.
He took a step forward, standing right in front of Ophelia.
Sunlight leaked through the leaves, falling between the two of them.
Klein looked into her eyes and said word by word, "Ophelia, you are my wife."
"You are the Lady of Klein."
Ophelia was stunned.
Her golden pupils widened slightly, as if she hadn't expected Klein to say that.
Klein continued, "Regardless of whether Eric is here for you, for me, or for something else—this is our business."
He paused, his tone remaining calm but gaining a touch of undeniable firmness.
"Because you are my wife, we are one."
Ophelia opened her mouth but could say nothing.
Her fingers gripped her skirt tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white.
Klein watched her reaction and smiled.
"Besides, we don't even know what Eric actually wants yet. Maybe he really is just here to talk business."
He turned and continued walking forward.
"Let's go back and eat first."
Ophelia stood in place, watching Klein's back.
Her golden eyes remained fixed on that figure—not particularly tall, yet somehow remarkably reliable—for a long time without looking away.
She opened her mouth, but in the end, she still said nothing.
She simply followed him.
Her steps were a bit lighter than before.
The wind blew through the woods, making the leaves rustle.
Sunlight spilled over them, casting two long shadows.
Ophelia walked half a step behind Klein, and that trace of vulnerability in her golden eyes had vanished.
It was replaced by something more complex and warmer.
She didn't know how to describe the feeling.
She just felt... that the stone in her heart had become a little lighter.
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