Neither Klein nor Ophelia particularly cared what Morris was doing.
They were faced with a different problem.
Inside the Stonebridge Town inn, Klein stared at the owner behind the counter, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Only two rooms left?"
The owner nodded, a regretful smile on his face. "I am truly sorry, my lord. Many caravans arrived in town today, and the rooms are nearly full."
Klein turned around and looked at the merchant leader they had rescued this afternoon.
The man was accompanied by two younger men; the three of them were huddled by the counter, their faces etched with the exhaustion of survivors.
Their clothes were still stained with mud and blood, as they clearly hadn't had the chance to clean up yet.
Noticing Klein's gaze, the merchant leader waved his hands frantically.
"Don't worry about us." His voice was hurried and carry a hint of servility, perhaps even a bit of panic. "The three of us can squeeze into one room. Truly, it's not a problem at all."
As he spoke, he nudged the young men beside him with his elbow.
The two young men immediately nodded in agreement.
"Yes, yes, we aren't picky."
"It's good enough just to have a place to sleep."
Klein looked away.
In truth, he didn't care much about how they felt.
These people were lucky to be alive; their living conditions were their own business.
The problem was that, according to this arrangement, he would likely have to sleep in the same room as Ophelia.
Klein's fingers tapped unconsciously on the counter.
Though he and Ophelia were husband and wife, truth be told, the progression of their relationship had been... a bit subtle.
They were certainly becoming more intimate, but when it came to sharing a bed, Klein still felt it was—how should he put it—too fast?
No, they were already married; this should be a matter of course.
Yet, Klein felt something wasn't quite right.
Perhaps it was because he was still influenced by the values of two worlds.
In the moral framework inherited from his past life and his parents in this one, such things should follow a gradual process rather than happening so suddenly...
Seeing Klein's hesitation, the innkeeper spoke up again.
"The rooms here are quite spacious." The owner's tone was enthusiastic, clearly wanting to close the deal. He gestured with his hands. "It's a standard double room with a bed large enough to fit three people if you squeeze in..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear.
Klein glanced at Ophelia.
Ophelia froze for a moment.
Her golden eyes widened slightly, and her long eyelashes fluttered.
She didn't seem to understand what Klein was thinking at first, tilting her head as she watched him for a few seconds before the realization struck her.
She nodded.
"Mm." Her voice was calm, as if stating something perfectly ordinary. "It is no big deal for me to sleep in the same room as you."
She paused, then added, "We are husband and wife, after all."
Klein nearly choked on his own saliva.
He cleared his throat.
Ophelia was right.
They were indeed married, and sharing a room was technically expected.
It was just that both of them had a tacit understanding not to bring up certain things.
After all, this marriage had been in name only until now.
While it seemed to be shifting toward something more substantial, it wasn't something that would happen overnight.
Beside the counter, the merchant and the two young men sensed the ambiguous atmosphere between Klein and Ophelia and lowered their heads, pretending to study the tips of their boots.
However, Klein could see their shoulders shaking—they were stifling laughter.
Klein took a deep breath.
"Fine, that will do," he told the owner, keeping his voice as steady as possible.
The owner grinned, revealing a row of yellow teeth.
"Right away!" He turned and took two keys from the wall, placing them on the counter. The keys clinked together sharply. "The two rooms at the very end of the second floor. They're good rooms—south-facing windows and great ventilation."
The merchant leader hurried forward.
"I'll pay." He pulled a coin purse from his coat, moving quickly as if afraid Klein would beat him to it. "You saved our lives, my lord. It would be disgraceful to let you pay. Truly, this small amount is nothing."
As he spoke, he placed several silver coins on the counter.
Klein did not refuse.
He took the key and turned toward the stairs.
Ophelia followed behind him.
Her footsteps were light, almost silent.
The staircase was narrow, the wooden boards groaning under their feet.
Oil lamps hung on the walls, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows against the surface.
The shadows moved with their steps like a silent dance.
Klein reached the end of the second floor and stopped before a door.
He inserted the key into the lock and turned it.
With a click, the door opened.
The room was not small.
Against the wall sat a double bed, the sheets looking reasonably clean—pale blue coarse cloth with simple patterns embroidered on the corners.
By the window was a small table set with an oil lamp and a clay jar, which held a few dried wheat stalks.
In the corner, several wooden crates were stacked, their contents unknown and covered in a thin layer of dust.
Klein walked in and set his luggage on the table.
Ophelia followed him inside and closed the door behind her.
With a click, the latch fell into place.
Silence settled over the room.
Klein turned around and looked at Ophelia.
Ophelia looked back at him.
Her expression was calm, her golden eyes shimmering with a soft light in the dim room.
Her high ponytail hung behind her shoulder, and a few golden strands clung to her cheek, swaying gently with her breath.
Her lips were pressed thin as if she were contemplating something.
"You..." Klein started, then stopped.
He didn't know what to say.
What could he say? "We're sleeping together tonight"? That was obvious.
Or "Do you mind"? Ophelia had already made it clear she didn't.
Klein found himself in a strange predicament.
He was an adult, and between his past life and his current experiences, he had seen much of the world.
Yet, facing Ophelia, he couldn't help but feel nervous.
Perhaps it was because she was too frank.
Ophelia tilted her head.
"What is it?" Her tone was natural, as if she were completely unaware of any awkwardness in the situation. "Your face is a bit red."
Klein immediately covered his face with his hand.
"It's not," he said, his voice a bit muffled. "It's just a little hot in here."
"Is it?" Ophelia walked to the window and pushed it open. "Then I'll open the window to let some air in."
The night breeze blew in, carrying the scent of earth and grass. Scattered lights flickered on the street outside, and the distant bark of a dog could be heard.
Klein lowered his hand and took a deep breath—only to realize he had done so countless times already today.
He gave up.
"Alright," he said, walking to the bed and sitting down.
The mattress was soft, sinking under his weight.
He wasn't sure what it was stuffed with.
The springs gave a faint creak.
Ophelia stood by the window, watching him.
"You should rest first," Klein said, trying to make his voice sound normal. "I'll go downstairs and ask the owner for some hot water."
Ophelia shook her head.
"There is no need." She walked to the other side of the bed and sat down. The mattress sank further. "I am not tired."
She paused.
"I will wait for you to return, then we can rest together."
Klein let out a long sigh.
"Forget it... it's better to rest early anyway. I won't go down."
The corners of Ophelia's mouth curved upward slightly.
It was a tiny arc, almost unnoticeable if one didn't look closely. But Klein saw it.
He realized Ophelia was smiling.
Though her expression remained calm, she was definitely smiling.
Silence fell over the room once more.
Dogs barked outside, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet night. Muffled voices drifted from afar, sounding like they were coming from a great distance.
Feeling uneasy, Klein stood up and walked to the window.
Outside was the town street, where scattered lights flickered in the darkness.
The distant mountains formed a blurry silhouette against the night sky, looking like crouching giant beasts.
A crescent moon hung in the sky, its moonlight spilling over the rooftops and coating the entire town in a silver glow.
Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound behind him.
Klein's body stiffened instinctively.
It was the sound of fabric rubbing together.
What was Ophelia doing?
Klein's fingers gripped the window frame tightly.
The texture of the wood pressed painfully into his palm, but he didn't let go.
He stared out the window, forcing himself not to look back.
He told himself it was no big deal. Ophelia was just changing into her sleepwear.
It was a normal thing.
Everyone changed clothes before sleeping.
There was nothing to make a fuss about.
But his ears still perked up uncontrollably.
He heard the click of a belt buckle being undone.
He heard the sound of her vest being removed.
He heard the rustle of fabric sliding over skin.
Klein felt his face burning.
The rustling stopped.
"Klein," Ophelia's voice called from behind him.
Klein's shoulders twitched.
He took a deep breath and then turned around.
Ophelia had removed her outer vest and was wearing only her white shirt.
She folded the vest carefully and placed it on the wooden crate by the bed, her movements as meticulous as if she were handling something precious.
She looked at Klein, her gaze calm.
"Are you not going to rest?" she asked.
Klein looked at her.
The collar of her shirt was slightly open, revealing a small section of her pale collarbone.
Her golden hair held a soft luster in the dim light, a few strands clinging to her neck and rising gently with her breath.
There was a faint flush on her cheeks, though whether it was from the effort of changing or something else, he couldn't tell.
Her left hand—the one contaminated by the sea monster—rested at her side, her fingers slightly curled. To Klein's surprise, she had removed not only her gauntlet but also the extra glove she used for concealment.
Ophelia noticed Klein's gaze.
She lifted her left hand and looked at it.
"In front of you..." Her voice was soft, carrying a hint of bashfulness. "I no longer need to pretend."
Klein's heart skipped another beat.
He looked away.
"I... I'll wait a little longer," he said, his voice sounding a bit dry. "You go to sleep first."
Ophelia nodded.
She lit the soothing incense and then walked to the bed, pulled back the covers, and lay down.
Ophelia lay on her side, facing Klein. She rested one hand under her head while the other lay outside the blanket.
"Then I will sleep first," she said.
She closed her eyes.
Her long eyelashes cast faint shadows on her eyelids.
Silence returned to the room.
Klein stood by the window, looking at the person on the bed.
He heard Ophelia's breathing gradually become steady.
She had fallen asleep.
Klein sighed softly.
He walked to the table and leaned over to blow out the oil lamp.
The moment the light died, the room plunged into darkness.
The moonlight from outside spilled through the glass, spreading a patch of silver-white across the floor like a silent invitation.
Klein stood where he was, his fingers tracing a few runes in the air.
A pale blue light flickered at his fingertips, leaving trails in the air with his movements.
Mana flowed according to his will, condensing into nodes at the four corners of the room.
It was a simple warning array; if anyone approached, he would notice immediately.
The glow of the runes gradually faded until they vanished completely into the darkness.
Klein turned and looked toward the bed.
Ophelia was lying on her side, her long golden hair scattered across the pillow, shimmering with a soft luster under the moonlight.
Her breathing was light, her chest rising and falling slowly, and the collar of her shirt was slightly open, revealing the line of her collarbone.
Klein pulled his gaze back before it could drift further down and walked to the bedside, his movements very light.
The mattress dipped slightly the moment he sat down, the springs making a faint sound.
His body stiffened, and he glanced at Ophelia.
She didn't wake. Her eyelashes cast faint shadows in the moonlight, fluttering gently with her breath.
Klein stared at her for a moment.
The way she looked while asleep was completely different from her usual self.
Normally, Ophelia was always tense, like a knight ready to draw her sword at any moment, her gaze sharp and her expression serious.
But now, her brow was relaxed, the corners of her mouth were slightly downcast, and her entire being was at ease.
Her left hand lay outside the blanket, fingers slightly curled. The moonlight shone on that hand, revealing the faint patterns on the skin—the marks left by the sea monster pollution.
Klein lay down.
The mattress dipped again, the springs making a more pronounced sound. He kept his body close to the edge of the bed, trying his best not to touch Ophelia.
But the bed wasn't that large. He could feel her body heat radiating through the blanket and hear her breathing right beside his ear.
The room was very quiet.
Klein stared at the ceiling, trying to force himself to relax.
But he couldn't.
He was too aware of Ophelia being right there.
Her breathing, her body heat, the faint scent on her—perhaps the lingering lavender scent on her clothes—all of it reminded him that they were now sleeping in the same bed.
Klein closed his eyes.
Then he opened them again.
He turned his head to look at Ophelia.
She was still asleep.
The moonlight hit her face, outlining her silhouette.
Her eyelashes were very long, casting faint shadows on her eyelids.
Her lips were slightly parted, her breath escaping with a warm touch.
Klein stared at her for a long time.
He reached out his hand, wanting to brush away the hair clinging to her cheek.
But halfway there, he stopped.
Klein withdrew his hand and lay on his side facing Ophelia, maintaining a small distance between them.
The moonlight spilled through the window and onto the bed, illuminating Ophelia's face.
Her eyelashes shimmered with a golden luster in the moonlight, her lips were pressed light, and her breathing was steady and slow.
As Klein watched her, a strange sensation welled up in his heart.
A feeling that was warm, comforting, and a little... happy.
The barking of dogs outside gradually faded away.
The lights in the town went out one by one.
The night grew deeper.
Klein closed his eyes, listening to Ophelia's breathing, and slowly drifted into a dream.
Rate on N.U.
