After settling the affairs of fortress construction at Gold Ridge and gold mine operations,
They rode without rest, and Lorist arrived at Bedrock Castle around two or three in the morning on the second day. The night was deep, and the castle's residents had already fallen into peaceful slumber. After passing through the city gate, Lorist dismounted and ordered the guard battalion to head to the military camp and rest for the night. He also declined the sentries' offer to escort them, and instead he and Schward led their mounts slowly down the empty, silent main avenue toward the central castle.
Silver moonlight spilled across the streets and alleys of Bedrock Castle, the light like water, while the night breeze carried gentle waves of cool air.
Lorist did a few chest-expansion exercises to work out the fatigue from two consecutive days of riding, then remarked to Schward with a sigh: "Time really does fly. Before you know it, you'll be getting married next year. I remember how small you were when I first met you, and now you've grown into quite the handsome young man. Oh, Schward, your future father-in-law Count Phelim wrote to your father and me about arranging the wedding for next year. You said last time you wanted to think it over—have you made up your mind?"
Schward didn't answer. He just walked along, leading his warhorse in silence.
"Hm?" Lorist was puzzled. "Schward, you two lovebirds are always inseparable every time you meet. What's going on? Had a falling out?"
Schward glanced at Lorist. "Master, I'd like to postpone the wedding by two years…"
"What? What happened?"
"Master, I asked Senior Brother, and he said I've already reached Silver Two-Star and could have started learning the Dantian Sea Breath Channeling Technique long ago. You promised to teach me both the year before last and last year, but when the war broke out you were too busy and forgot. Senior Brother Reidi said he could teach me. So I'd like to learn the Dantian Sea Breath Channeling Technique first, then get married. Senior Brother says I'm smarter than he was, and that if I focus for two years I can build a foundation and cultivate on my own."
Lorist was floored. It took him a moment to realize he'd forgotten a promise of his own making. "My apologies, Schward. I was too busy and let it slip. The family shouldn't have much going on now, so I'll start teaching you right away. As for your father-in-law Count Phelim and your father, I'll write to them myself to explain. Postponing the wedding by two years shouldn't be too much of an ask."
"But, Master, if I'm learning the Dantian Sea Breath Channeling Technique, I'll have to train hard at the back mountain. Then there'd be no one to attend to you." Schward hesitated again.
Lorist laughed. "That won't be a problem at all. Last month the commander of the naval corps, Senbawood, wrote to remind me not to forget my original promise. Schward, do you remember you have a little junior brother? That oaf of a son of his—what was his name again?"
"Master, Junior Brother's name is Genorio," Schward said.
"Blast it all. Back when I said I'd take his son as a disciple, Senbawood looked like he'd swallowed a fly. He acted as if I were going to drag his son off as a hostage. Now he's all eager, practically washing that big lunk of a son clean and gift-wrapping him to send my way. Last month he wrote to tell me the boy is already sixteen and has awakened his
"Heh heh…" Schward laughed too. He knew the story well. The naval corps commander Senbawood had been a pirate. He had attempted to raid Lorist at sea, only to end up coerced into serving the
"Master, Junior Brother isn't some oaf like you say. He's just tall and well-built. You've read his letters to me—they're remarkably eloquent and well-constructed…" Schward defended his junior brother.
Lorist curled his lip. "Come on. I suspect his mother writes those letters for him. Didn't you notice how the handwriting is delicate and elegant, like mist drifting across the page? A man's writing should be bold and sweeping, with the force of iron strokes and silver hooks—even if it's not neat, it should carry a feeling of strength that penetrates through the paper. Like your father's letters, where every character is rooted like stone. Or like Fierce Tiger Ross's handwriting, which practically reeks of killing intent. They say a person's writing reveals their character. Think about it—could someone who looks like that lumbering giant of a junior brother possibly produce such refined, elegant calligraphy? It's like a hulking brute trying to embroider with a sewing needle."
Well, Schward had to admit Lorist had a point. Senbawood's eldest son had apparently eaten something extraordinary—at sixteen he was already two meters tall and powerfully built. No wonder Lorist called him an oaf. Still, Schward was quite fond of his junior brother. Perhaps Senbawood was simply skilled at building connections through roundabout means, taking the circuitous road to familial bonds. Besides bringing his big son along every year when he returned to the family territories to report on the naval corps' affairs, he also had the boy regularly write to Schward—his nominal senior brother—asking about things to watch out for during fighting-aura awakening. Through this back-and-forth, Schward had grown quite close to this tall, simple-minded, blunt-spoken junior brother.
"Tell you what—have him come over. While you haven't started your cultivation yet, you can teach him for a while and also size up his character. I asked Tagel to keep an eye on him too, and nothing bad has turned up, but you never truly know a person's heart. When you're together, you can evaluate him properly. If he doesn't prove trustworthy, I'll just take him as a nominal disciple at most. A full master-disciple relationship like what you and Reidi have would be out of the question." Lorist decided to end the topic.
"Yes, Master. I'll write a letter tomorrow and have the guards bring him here."
The two continued walking in silence for a while, until Schward broke the quiet once more: "Your Highness, are you perhaps a bit afraid of meeting Princess Silvia?"
Since this was no longer a conversation between master and disciple, Schward addressed him as "Your Highness."
"No. Why would I be afraid to see her…?" Lorist denied it flatly.
Schward looked at him with open skepticism.
Lorist grew a touch irritated and defensive: "Why would I lie to you? I just noticed how soft the moonlight is tonight and felt like taking a walk to stretch legs that have gone numb from two days in the saddle. Besides, galloping through the night would wake up a lot of people having sweet dreams. That would be quite impolite…"
"Very well. I understand." Schward smiled.
"Hmph…" Lorist continued his stroll in very poor spirits…
However long the road, one always arrives eventually. The path to the central castle was not particularly long.
After the guard battalion departed with Lorist, the garrison battalion had taken over the central castle's defense. These soldiers were all veterans who had retired from active service but couldn't bring themselves to leave military life, and they knew Lorist well. A squad of soldiers on sentry duty at the main gate spotted Lorist and Schward strolling toward them and hurriedly stepped forward to salute and greet them, then took charge of the two mounts.
"Don't bother with all that. No need to open the main gate and wake everyone up. We'll go in through the side gate. Go have the night-duty servants heat some water and prepare something to eat. Bring it all to the second-floor study. We'll spend the night in there—if anything comes up, we'll deal with it tomorrow," Lorist told the squad leader.
However, the two who brought the bathing tub and hot water to the study were serving women, not male servants. Lorist found this odd—usually, castle night-duty rotations were handled by male attendants. Why were there two serving women tonight?
"Your Highness, it's because Princess Silvia has insomnia. She can't sleep at all, so the steward assigned us to the night shift…" the serving women explained.
"Oh? Silvia, she—she has insomnia?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Which floor is she on?"
"The third floor of the east wing—the same quarters the princess stayed in during her previous visits," they answered.
Lorist freshened up quickly and changed into casual indoor clothing. The two serving women then brought in two large platters of food. Picking up a honey bread and taking a bite, Lorist asked: "So, how has Princess Silvia been eating these past few days?"
"Your Highness, she eats very little. She always says she has no appetite. She'll often just have a bowl of soup and that's it," the serving women replied.
Lorist could no longer sit still. He turned to Schward and said: "Go ahead and eat, then rest. I'm going to check on Princess Silvia."
The central castle was built against the mountain but divided into four sections. The front fortress housed the office building—Lorist's study, reception room, conference hall, and the offices of the family's various departments were all located there. The rear fortress was Lorist's private domain, where his concubines lived. The left and right wings served as guest quarters for visiting dignitaries.
There was a difference between the two wings, however. The left wing faced east, and its architecture was elegant and refined—it was reserved for guests of high status. To date, only Princess Silvia and the
During her previous visits to the Norton family, Princess Silvia had stayed on the third floor of the left wing. Once she moved in, Lorist had ordered the suite sealed off and no longer available to other guests—it had become Princess Silvia's private quarters.
Lorist crept up to the third floor and immediately spotted the open balcony of the grand sitting room, where a reclining chair had been placed. A figure dressed in white as pure as snow lay reclining in the chair, bathed in silver moonlight, quietly listening to the night breeze whispering softly in her ears…
Lorist walked slowly toward the reclining chair.
"I already told you—I don't want anything to eat, and I don't want anything to drink. This isn't your fault. I'll speak to your steward about it tomorrow. It has nothing to do with you." Hearing Lorist's footsteps, a clear, quiet voice spoke. Perhaps Princess Silvia, still in the reclining chair, had mistaken the footsteps for those of a serving woman coming to urge her to eat.
"It's me, Silvia…" Lorist found that opening his mouth at this moment was terribly difficult. His voice was as faint as the buzz of a mosquito, barely audible.
But Princess Silvia sprang up from the reclining chair as if struck by an arrow, startled yet overjoyed: "Is it you? Lock…"
"It's me, Silvia…" This time his voice was somewhat louder. Lorist stepped forward a few paces and appeared in the silver moonlight.
"Lock!" Princess Silvia, like a fledgling swallow, threw herself into Lorist's arms, clinging to him tightly, tears streaming down without end: "Lock, I missed you so much…"
But Lorist was shocked: "What happened, Silvia? How did you get so thin…"
Those large emerald eyes in her face were exceptionally striking. Holding her, Lorist felt a pang in his heart—she was far too light. This girl had suffered greatly.
"It's nothing. I can't eat, and I can't sleep…" Clinging to her beloved, leaning against his solid chest, Princess Silvia finally broke into heart-wrenching sobs, tears falling like rain: "Lock, Grandfather doesn't want me anymore, and I can't go back to the family. Grandfather said that since I've come to you, I shouldn't think about going back. Will you still want me?"
In that moment, all the usual air of a princess—lofty, dignified, untouchable—had completely vanished. Princess Silvia cried like a lost child who couldn't find her way home, or like a puppy wagging its tail desperately to win its master's affection.
"Want you? Of course I want you, you silly girl. How could I ever not want you…" Lorist felt his heart ache all the more. He tenderly stroked her hair and held her small frame tightly in his arms: "Little fool, no matter what happens, I will always be your ultimate refuge. I will stay by your side until our hair turns white… Do you understand? This is my vow…"
Alas, Princess Silvia did not hear Lorist's heartfelt declaration. Perhaps his arrival had finally allowed her to set down the enormous burden she had been carrying. With tears still wet on her cheeks, Princess Silvia fell into a deep sleep in Lorist's arms… Tears still clung to her face, but a faint smile graced her lips, and her hands clutched tightly at the hem of Lorist's clothes, refusing to let go…
Princess Silvia's crying had stirred her two handmaids. When they rose and opened the door, Lorist immediately made a hushing gesture, signaling them not to disturb the sleeping princess, and had them guide him as he carried Silvia to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. After covering her with a blanket, Lorist tried to get up, only to find that Princess Silvia was gripping his clothes tightly and wouldn't let go.
"Fine. I'm not going anywhere." Lorist smiled bitterly and had the two handmaids bring him a chair. He would sit by Princess Silvia's bedside tonight and keep watch over her until dawn.
"Now then, tell me—what did the princess mean when she said she can't go back? Keep your voices down; don't wake Silvia." With nothing else to do, Lorist began questioning the two handmaids about the situation.
As Princess Silvia's two closest personal attendants, they had endured their share of mistreatment at the Fisablen family's Tiger's Perch Castle. They immediately laid everything out for Lorist—the accusations and hostility Silvia had faced from her own family, including how Grand Duke Fisablen had sent Silvia on a diplomatic mission to the Norton family but only allowed her to bring these two handmaids and her personal clothing. Even her hundred-strong princess guard had been disbanded and reassigned to other family military units…
Lorist nodded. He now understood Grand Duke Fisablen's true intentions in sending Silvia to the Northland. He couldn't help but admire that old fox's ruthlessness and decisiveness. Poor Silvia—she had no idea that the grandfather who had doted on her most had placed her on the gambling table as a bargaining chip. She wasn't here on a diplomatic mission; she had been sent by Grand Duke Fisablen as a peace offering to Lorist. The purpose was simple: to make the Northland Four-Family Alliance let the Fisablen family off the hook—not to press them to the point of utter ruin…
Looking at Silvia's thin, delicate face as she slept, Lorist quietly made a resolution.
…(to be continued.)