Raymond’s back straightened even further, like an unsheathed sword—sharpness restrained, yet enough to sever any obstacle.
He extended his hands, clad in snow-white gloves, and accepted the silver token from Klein with an attitude bordering on reverence.
The token felt cold and heavy in his hand, a weight that came not just from the metal itself, but from the hope and future it carried.
"I understand."
Raymond’s voice was devoid of any ripple, but in his deep eyes, a fire ignited that was hot enough to melt steel. He carefully tucked the silver token into his inner pocket, close to his heart.
This action itself was a silent vow.
Raymond bowed slightly and, without another word, turned to leave. His footsteps were steady and powerful, each step echoing clearly on the manor floors like the prelude to some ancient ceremony.
He had much to do.
Contact the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce, arrange the residence, and prepare to welcome those two cornerstones. Every single task had to be executed flawlessly.
For his young master’s path to glory, he would transform into the most precise machine, the most solid shield.
The living room returned to silence.
Klein leaned back against the sofa and let out a long breath. His tensed nerves finally relaxed at this moment, and an irresistible wave of exhaustion surged up from his limbs.
From Silver Scale Harbor to his return to the manor, the jolting journey, the intense mental focus, and the declaration just now that was enough to change the landscape of the Empire had continuously drained his mental energy.
He closed his eyes, but his mind remained cluttered.
The conception of the path of the sage, the cooperation with Nelisa, Karen’s special constitution, and the unknown horrors beneath the deep sea... Each matter, like precise gears, began to slowly turn in his mind, constructing a vast and complex blueprint for the future.
Light footsteps came from the stairs.
Klein opened his eyes and saw Ophelia walking down.
She had changed out of her dusty travel gear and into a moon-white home outfit.
The soft fabric clung to her tall figure, diluting her usual heroic and sharp edge with a touch of tranquility and softness.
Her damp golden hair was simply tied back, with a few rebellious strands hanging by her cheeks, making her exquisite face look exceptionally vivid.
She walked to Klein’s side and sat down quietly, not asking what he had just discussed with Raymond.
She simply reached out and gently took Klein’s hand, which was resting on the armrest of the sofa.
Her palm was warm and dry, with a slight callus from years of wielding a sword, yet it conveyed a reassuring strength.
Klein squeezed her hand back, feeling the tacit understanding and support that required no words.
The fatigue of the journey and the heavy pressure of the future seemed to lighten significantly at this moment.
"I’ll go wash up as well."
Klein stood up, his voice carrying a hint of weariness.
"Mm."
Ophelia nodded and released his hand.
...
...
Hot water dispelled the physical exhaustion. Klein changed into clean pajamas and returned to the master bedroom on the third floor.
Everything in the room was exactly as it was when he left—tidy, solemn, and filled with a familiar woody fragrance. Raymond had already arranged for the soothing incense to be lit.
Stock is running low...
Thinking idly like this, Klein fell asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow.
He slept very deeply.
There were no dreams, no disturbances. His consciousness seemed to sink into a warm and calm deep sea, where all fatigue and stray thoughts were gently washed away.
An unknown amount of time passed.
He slowly drifted upward from his deep slumber.
Awareness returned first; he could feel his body relaxing and stretching. Then came his hearing, as the faint chirping of insects drifted in from outside the window.
Finally, his vision.
He opened his eyes, and his blurry sight gradually became clear.
No lamps were lit in the room. The only source of light came from outside the window. The afterglow of the setting sun passed through the glass, plating the entire room in a warm orange-red.
The light was soft, blurring the edges of everything.
Then, he saw Ophelia.
She was sitting on a chair by the bed, quietly watching him.
She wasn't standing or on guard; she was just sitting. Her hands were folded on her knees, her posture still upright, but she lacked the defensiveness of a knight, replaced by a concentrated gaze.
She seemed to have been sitting there for a long time.
The orange-red light traced the soft contour of her profile, and her golden hair flowed with a honey-like luster under the light. Her eyes were also golden, and at this moment, they reflected his sleeping face without blinking, like two polished gold coins or two pools of the purest, melted sunlight.
That gaze was very pure, devoid of any scrutiny or judgment.
She was just looking.
Quietly, intently, as if she wanted to carve every detail of him into her mind.
Klein did not move, nor did he speak.
He just lay on the bed, meeting her gaze and staring back.
The room was so quiet that they could hear each other’s breathing.
The faint lingering scent of the burned-out soothing incense floated in the air, mixed with the evening breeze blowing in from the window, carrying the scent of soil, grass, and flowers.
Time seemed to stretch out at this moment.
Klein looked at her, seeing himself in her eyes.
He remembered the scene of their first meeting. She was the famous Valkyrie of the Empire, a hero who slew sea monsters, yet she had been sent to this remote country manor by a decree to marry an obscure minor noble.
At that time, she was like a golden rose with thorns—beautiful, but keeping everyone at a distance.
He then thought of their companionship along this journey.
She would secretly curl the corners of her mouth because of a word of praise from him, she would stand in front of him without hesitation when he encountered danger, and she would also quietly guard him when he was tired, just as she was doing now.
She had transformed from a distant, beautiful statue into a living, breathing wife with warmth, who would worry for him and show him her smile.
Between them, there had been no grand wedding, no solemn announcement.
Everything had begun with a cold political decree.
Yet, without him realizing when it happened, the contract represented by that decree had been replaced by a deeper, warmer emotion.
Somewhere deep in Klein’s heart, a place suddenly became incredibly soft.
He had found a brand-new path to the domain of a sage, and he was about to initiate an unprecedentedly grand plan. His life would no longer be the peace of staying in one corner, but was destined to be a magnificent journey that would stir up ten thousand waves.
And on this path destined to be extraordinary, he hoped, and must have her standing openly by his side.
In the name of a wife.
A complete ceremony, witnessed and blessed by everyone.
This was what he owed her.
It was also what he wanted to give her.
After a long time, Klein broke the orange-red silence. His voice was slightly raspy from just waking up, yet it reached Ophelia’s ears clearly.
"Ophelia."
He called her name.
"I want to hold a wedding for you. What do you think?"
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