Princess Sylvia slept for nearly five hours. When she woke, she found
Lorist affectionately stroked her long platinum-blonde hair and said, "I'm going to raise you plump and white like a little pig. I won't let you lose any more weight. Look at your hands—you can see the veins, there's not an ounce of flesh on them. Sylvia, do you have any idea how my heart aches seeing you this thin?"
Princess Sylvia shyly buried her head in Lorist's chest, half-heartedly pounding his chest while protesting his comparison of raising her like a pig, yet smiling sweetly with complete contentment.
It wasn't until Lorist had had lunch with Princess Sylvia, and promised to join her for dinner that evening, that he finally managed to free himself. Although Princess Sylvia clung to him tenaciously, she still had the sense to understand that Lorist, as head of the
"The harder the beauty's favor, the harder to bear." Lorist sighed deeply, then turned back with a smile and waved to Princess Sylvia on the third-floor balcony before striding away.
Princess Sylvia's situation was somewhat troublesome, Lorist thought with furrowed brows. It wasn't a physical ailment, but a psychological one. Though innocent, Sylvia was far from foolish—on the contrary, she was extraordinarily clever. From the words of those two maids the previous night, Lorist inferred that Princess Sylvia had likely already realized what it meant for the Duke of Fisablen to send her as an envoy to Northland: she had been abandoned by her own family, toppled from her exalted position as the family's darling, and turned into a gift of apology casually presented to the Norton family…
After the Four Families Alliance of Northland launched its campaign against the Kingdom of Iblia and war broke out with the Fisablen family, Princess Sylvia had faced countless accusations and blame within her own family. Everyone treated her as a jinx and the very culprit who had brought war upon them. Just as those two maids had described, Princess Sylvia could only try to avoid going out and keep away from outsiders, but gossip and slander still filled her ears. She could only hide in her own little tower, living as if cut off from the world, hoping this nightmare would end soon.
If Sandy, the Great Swordmaster who served as Sylvia's godmother, had still been by her side, Princess Sylvia's life would certainly have been easier. Unfortunately, Sandy had courted her own doom by volunteering to pursue and capture Reidi—the man who had killed a junior member of the family. But by striking the disciple, she had drawn out the master. Reidi was Lorist's first disciple, and Lorist had no intention of being reasonable about it. Regardless of whether Reidi had killed anyone or not, the killing was justified. Lorist personally went to rescue Reidi, captured Sandy, and handed her over to the
The Fisablen family was a large clan. Although the Duke of Fisablen was its head, that didn't mean he had the final say on everything. He still had several old, stubborn elders, plus a whole host of relatives. The Fisablen family's territory was situated on the northeastern steppes. Had it been in the interior, such a vast estate would have long since split apart through partition. But on the steppes, facing threats from the barbarian tribes, partition meant courting death and inviting destruction. The members of the Fisablen family had no choice but to huddle together for warmth, uniting to defend their territory, uphold the family name, and preserve the family lineage. But this also brought a problem—with so many members, quality varied. Some were devoted to serving the family, while others were busy undermining it from within.
When the Fisablen family's power was at its peak, harmony prevailed among the clansmen. Everyone sat in a row and shared the fruits—as long as you bore the Fisablen name, there was always meat to eat, or at least soup to drink. But now the Fisablen family faced an extremely unfavorable situation. The First Border Patrol Cavalry Corps had been completely annihilated, the Third Border Patrol Cavalry Corps had surrendered en masse to the enemy, the Fifth Border Patrol Cavalry Corps had been disbanded, and the Reserve Corps was finished too. It could be said that the war between the Four Families Alliance of Northland and the Fisablen family had stripped bare the Fisablen family's self-proclaimed title as the most powerful clan in the former empire's northeast, and ground their face into the dirt several times over. Whether it was face or substance, anyone with eyes could see that the Fisablen family had already lost…
Even though the Duke of Fisablen kept boosting the morale of his clansmen and selected many barbarian warriors from the submissive steppe tribes to rebuild the Reserve Corps, different voices had already begun to emerge within the family. On the northeastern steppes, barbarian cavalry were abundant. Whether men or warhorses, you could recruit barbarian warriors willing to charge into battle for the family—as long as you paid the price. But the problem was, while it was easy to recruit manpower, equipping and sustaining twenty to thirty thousand barbarian cavalry was somewhat difficult for the current Fisablen family.
Previously, the Snow Salt Trading Company of the Four Families Alliance of Northland had freely dumped goods on Fisablen family territory, and the Fisablen family had profited enormously from mere intermediary trade alone. They had also used these intermediary goods to tightly control the submissive barbarian tribes and had conquered the Greater and Lesser Jinchuan region, incorporating this gold-rich territory into the family's domain. They established provinces and expanded their borders, spreading their fame in all directions. Those truly were good days.
With two Border Patrol Cavalry Corps built and a mighty military force bolstering the family's strength, the Duke of Fisablen had grown ambitious and begun to eye the regency of the Kingdom of Iblia.
"It was precisely your ambition that blinded your eyes, making you unable to see the road ahead!" This was what a family elder—none other than the Duke's own paternal uncle—had rebuked the Duke of Fisablen with. The old man was lecherous and fond of his cups, nearly a hundred years old yet still refusing to meet the War God. He constantly caused trouble for the Duke, had sired seven children, and constituted a considerable force within the family. Wallyo, who served as logistics supervisor in the Third Border Patrol Cavalry Corps, was this old man's most disappointing youngest son.
"Because of your carelessness and arrogance, you failed to notice that the Four Families Alliance of Northland had already grown wary and vigilant toward our family. After the Four Families Alliance destroyed the Madras Duchy, you should have been alarmed. Had you been, you would never have let the family's military forces suffer such devastating losses in the Four Families Alliance's surprise attack!" At the family council, this uncle let loose a barrage of after-the-fact wisdom, giving the Duke of Fisablen no end of humiliation. He had completely forgotten that when the Duke had first formulated the plan to dominate the northeast, this very uncle had been his most steadfast supporter—while simultaneously busy placing his own children and grandchildren in lucrative positions.
"Why didn't you accept the proposal from that Norton lord of Northland? Giving Sylvia in marriage to the Grand Duke of Northland wouldn't have been beneath her. He agreed to the first two conditions, already giving our family a tremendous advantage. Why did you have to get greedy and demand he drive away his concubines and illegitimate children? You forced the Four Families Alliance of Northland into becoming our family's enemy. Face—how many gold coins is face worth? Since when was Sylvia so noble that she couldn't tolerate a few concubines…"
If it weren't for the fact that the Duke was a Third-Rank Great Swordmaster, the pillar of the family's elite military strength, the clansmen might well have moved to depose him as family head. After all, this defeat had been truly catastrophic for the Fisablen family. Many households throughout the clan had lost one or two relatives, especially those who had thought they'd landed good positions that would bring them wealth. No one had expected these positions to be death sentences—was it any wonder that complaints filled the air?
If even the Duke of Fisablen himself encountered such an awkward situation within the family, then Princess Sylvia's position was far worse. Her father had been the Duke's eldest son, who had unfortunately been killed in battle while defending the family's territory against barbarian raiders. Sylvia hadn't been born yet at the time. Her mother, near her term, had received the news of her husband's death, and after giving birth to Sylvia, had wasted away and died. The orphaned Sylvia had been entrusted by the Duke of Fisablen to the care of his lover, Sandy the Great Swordmaster, and had grown up with little closeness to her relatives.
It wasn't until Sylvia grew older and revealed her talent for cultivating
Because of her exalted status, Sandy the Great Swordmaster's protectiveness, and the Duke of Fisablen's doting affection, Sylvia's life had become simple and happy. The dark side of the family had never been revealed before her eyes. So when Lorist had interacted with her, he had found her to be a pure girl in whose eyes the world was filled with sunshine and hope—an innocent, lovable, elf-like girl worthy of being cherished with all one's heart. It was just that Lorist hadn't been in the mood at the time, occupied with family affairs and unable to spare energy for romantic love. But he hadn't expected that it was precisely his detachment, his distinctive manner of speaking, and his hardship-filled yet legendary scholarly journey—being cast out by his family, losing contact amid the flames of war—that had left such a deep impression on Princess Sylvia.
As Sylvia's godmother who had raised her from childhood, Sandy the Great Swordmaster had keenly noticed the young girl's growing affection for Lorist. As for her own feelings toward Lorist—they were nonexistent. In Sandy's eyes, Lorist was utterly worthless: plain in appearance, ten years older than Sylvia, low in rank, cowardly, possessing a powerful family yet knowing only to cower within family territory for self-preservation, and practicing the heterodox cultivation methods of ancient Eastern warrior monks.
Of course, Sandy would never admit that her hostility toward Lorist stemmed from her inability to accept her defeat in their sword duel. That cunning brat had exploited her unfamiliarity with his bizarre Eastern warrior monk cultivation methods to gain a temporary upper hand, then immediately sheathed his sword and withdrew, cementing the fact of her defeat. In reality, the brat had been completely spent—he had collapsed the moment he stepped out of the Duke's manor.
But Sandy's opposition hadn't stopped Princess Sylvia's growing feelings. Through subsequent diplomatic missions and encounters, that affection had quickly blossomed into love. Seeing the situation spiraling, Sandy had hastily forced Princess Sylvia into four years of closed-door cultivation, hoping that the passage of time would fade the girl's passion and make it disappear. But unexpectedly, after four years had passed, while Sylvia had advanced from Gold Tier One Star to Gold Tier Two Star, her love had instead transformed into deep longing. The moment she heard that the Duke of Fisablen was hosting a knight tournament to find her a suitor, she had rushed to Northland and confessed her heart, urging Lorist to enter the tournament…
The Duke's ruthlessness had devastated Princess Sylvia. Defying his repeated orders, she had rushed back to the family's territory to hold a funeral for the poor little prince—one attended by very few people.
After that, Sylvia had gone to Northland to lift her spirits, only for Lorist to deliver the second piece of bad news: the Duke of Fisablen had proposed three conditions. Lorist had agreed to two, but the third was impossible to agree to, because he was not a heartless, ungrateful man. And so the Duke had rejected the marriage proposal between the Norton and Fisablen families. Though disappointed, Sylvia hadn't taken it to heart. She believed her doting grandfather was probably worried that she might encounter jealousy and rivalry among wives and concubines after marrying into the Norton family. She was confident that once she returned and coaxed him with her sweet talk, the Duke would agree to her marriage with Lorist.
So Sylvia had spent several happy months touring Northland—the most joyful time of her life. Lorist had accepted her love, accompanying her everywhere on her travels, even sailing out to Silovas Island, showing Sylvia for the first time a beauty of the world far different from the great steppes. Those had been sweet, honeyed days. If not for Sandy's constant reminders, the lovelorn Sylvia would have long since washed herself clean and delivered herself to Lorist's bed…
When Sylvia returned to the family's territory, what awaited her was the Duke of Fisablen's thunderous fury. The Duke had placed her under house arrest, forbidding her from taking a single step beyond Tiger Perch Castle. Sylvia pleaded with her doting grandfather to accept Lorist's marriage proposal, declaring that she didn't care how many concubines Lorist had. But the Duke had replied coldly that this wasn't her concern—rather, Lorist's refusal to meet the demands had greatly humiliated the Fisablen family. If she were simply sent over like that, where would the family's face be?
Sylvia had never imagined that the loving grandfather of her memories would give her such an answer. Was the family's face really more important than her lifelong happiness? No matter how she wept and pleaded, the Duke of Fisablen's answer remained: "Yes."
In response, Princess Sylvia went on a hunger strike, but was eventually brought back through Sandy's coaxing and comfort. This was also the reason Sandy had volunteered to pursue Reidi upon learning of his whereabouts—she hoped that by offending the Norton family and turning the two families into enemies, she could finally make Sylvia give up her foolish desire to marry Lorist.
And Sandy's wish was granted, though she never returned—ending up in the Second Prince's prison. But the Norton family did indeed become the enemy of the Fisablen family. Lorist led the combined military forces of the Four Families Alliance of Northland to crush the Fisablen family's Border Patrol Cavalry Corps and the reinforcements from the Four Central Duchies, sending them fleeing in panic and utter defeat.
That Sylvia was blamed and accused by her relatives goes without saying. Her insistence on marrying no one but Lorist had been known throughout the family, so being universally condemned was inevitable. What she hadn't expected was that her own grandfather would send her to Lorist as a gift to seek peace with the Norton family…
Marrying Lorist and being given to Lorist were two entirely different concepts. Marrying Lorist was a union between two families—glorious and prestigious. Being given to Lorist meant Sylvia was treated as a gift, like a slave-girl, to be beaten or scolded, with her life and death in another's hands…
Sylvia could never have imagined such an ending for herself. She recalled the words her cousin Cissy had hurled at her through the wall: "What's so special about you? All you had was a Great Swordmaster watching your back. Now that Great Swordmaster has been captured by your lover and thrown into the imperial prison. Serves you right—you brought it on yourself. So what if you advanced to Gold Tier after a few extra years of training? You're twenty-seven or twenty-eight and still unmarried. Still dreaming of finding a husband? Keep dreaming, you jinx!"
Cissy was six years younger than her. A family knight from the First Border Patrol Cavalry Corps had reportedly become her intimate—Sylvia's maids had even caught that knight climbing the wall into Cissy's chambers late at night… Now the First Border Patrol Cavalry Corps was gone, and her lover-knight's fate was unknown… So Cissy had turned her venom on Sylvia…
The verbal abuse from her relatives was something Sylvia could tune out and pretend she hadn't heard. But the Duke of Fisablen's decision to send her as an envoy to the Norton family had delivered the heaviest blow to her heart. A mission in name, a gift in substance—and the gift was herself. Even if it meant reuniting her with Lorist, it was done in the most humiliating way imaginable. Sylvia's heart was filled with despair and the feeling of utter abandonment, and only the hope of being reunited with Lorist kept her from collapsing…
The joy of seeing Lorist and hearing her lover's sweet words finally loosened the tension in Sylvia's heart. Her body, worn down by anxiety, worry, and sleepless nights, could hold on no longer and she passed out into a deep sleep. When she woke, her clinging possessiveness toward Lorist had already made him sense that something was wrong. Especially the pain and despair hidden behind those eyes brimming with tender love—that was what truly broke Lorist's heart.
Lorist knew that the manner in which this innocent, elf-like girl came to live with him would determine whether he would come to regret this decision in the future.
…(To be continued.)