Chapter 45

The lord’s chamber boasted a fireplace spacious enough to fit a small cauldron, which now was bubbling and steaming over a wood fire. The aroma of simmering pottage mingled with the sweet scent of burning wood and the cool, crisp winter air that wafted in through a small, narrow window.

Audrey carefully stirred the pottage with a wooden spoon while Lansius took in the delightful aroma.

“It smells delicious,” he commented.

Audrey brought a bowl of the pottage and placed it on the small table by the fire, topping it with slightly charred bread. “Let me taste it first,” she said as she sat across from Lansius and slowly blew on the porridge-like mixture.

Lansius cut the bread in half, revealing a soft and warm interior beneath a crispy crust. Audrey took a spoonful of the pottage and murmured something incoherent, but Lansius understood from her gesture that he should try it too. He scooped up a spoonful of the savory concoction.

Gah, it’s still hot!

As the taste of the pottage hit him, memories flooded back, but then something hit him squarely on the tongue. “Audrey, why is it so salty?”

“It’s . . . err . . . it’s a superior version?” She seemed nervous.

“A what?” Lansius suspected that Audrey had put too much salted meat into the pottage.

This isn’t a mistake; this is gluttony.

“Needs more peas,” Audrey exclaimed, grabbing the bowl and spoon from Lansius. She scooped another mouthful as she ran to the fireplace. There, she added more water and stirred the pot vigorously.

“You know, Audrey, you can be quite puzzling,” Lansius said.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“Just a while back, you wouldn’t share a cup with me, yet now you don’t mind sharing a spoon.”

Audrey made a clicking sound with her tongue before replying. “What choice do I have? The castle’s kitchen only has metal ladles, and all your spoons are silver. The pottage just doesn’t taste the same without a wooden spoon, and I only have this one.”

“Right . . . Sorry for complaining then,” Lansius responded, realizing he should simply be grateful for their return to normalcy. The issues of his lordship had put a wedge in their relationship.

Their bond reminded him of a castle, its sturdy walls creating a distance between them. Despite their apparent closeness, an unseen barrier always lingered. Audrey had built this barrier intentionally, with the goal of protecting Lansius’s future. No matter how hard he tried to scale the walls, he always fell back down.

“By the way, Lans, was there any news about your family?” she asked, leaving the pottage to simmer. It needed some time to cook.

Lansius’s expression grew serious. “The letter didn’t specify much, but I believe smuggling people out of Arvena isn’t a simple task.”

“I trust him,” Audrey stated, taking a seat.

“Really?” Lansius was surprised by Audrey’s confidence.

“Lord Bengrieve isn’t the type to speak cheaply. If he says that he’ll even employ the Hunter Guild to get your family out of Averna, then he’ll do so.”

Lansius paused for a moment, contemplating Audrey’s certainty. “How can you be so sure? You’ve only met Bengrieve a few times.”

“It’s in the eyes,” she explained bluntly. “When he said that, he meant business.” Audrey’s straightforwardness made Lansius feel somewhat guilty for doubting the man.

“I hope so . . . It’s been years since I last saw my family . . .” Lansius stood up and approached the narrow window, peering out at the vast open plains below, now covered in a white sheet of ice. The reflective surface made for a beautiful display of sunlight.

The winter in Korelia was harsher than Arvena’s, though less snowy. The snow barely reached ankle-depth, but the cold seeped in much deeper.

Suddenly, Audrey muttered something that sounded like an apology.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” Lansius questioned.

“I said I’m sorry,” she replied with a frown and a bitter expression.

Lansius looked at her, surprised. “Sorry for what?”

“If I hadn’t messed up back then, you could have returned to your family and escaped Arvena. Instead, I made you wait for nothing.”

“That’s not true. It was chaotic back then. Even if we had met, I still wouldn’t have been able to escape west and reach my family,” Lansius said, comforting her.

Despite his words, Audrey remained consumed by guilt. She was still haunted by the idea that she had willingly chosen to stand with Riverstead’s defense rather than fleeing away with Lansius, only to end up in a hospice after the city’s surrender.

It pained Lansius seeing Audrey shouldering a guilt that wasn’t hers to bear. He held her hand, looked deep into her eyes, and spoke. “Audrey, it was me leaving you. You haven’t wronged me in any way.”

She averted her gaze, but her face softened. Lansius noticed how her head injury was now covered by thick, healthy hazelnut-brown hair. The big scars that made her wear a veil last year were now fully covered.

This is such a mood wrecker for such a beautiful day.

Thinking quickly, he called out, “Stefi! Stephania!”

Audrey was taken aback. “Lans!” she shouted and immediately charged at him, unleashing a flurry of punches. The first punch stung, but the rest were playful.

Lansius laughed at her reaction, shielding himself from her blows. “Okay, okay, I apologize.”

“Humph! Don’t ever call me that again,” she threatened with a pout.

Lansius nodded, struggling to contain his laughter. Audrey turned away. He understood her reaction; after all, she had narrowly escaped being sold into slavery. The stigma attached to slavery was so strong that many changed their names once they regained their freedom.

Audrey’s case was even more complicated because of the Sabina Rustica incident. Although the slavers were operating illegally, the fact that Arvenians waged an armed conflict inside Midlandia was a serious crime.

Moreover, with Lord Arte’s involvement, the risk heightened, making it crucial to cut all traceable links. As a consequence, even though she wasn’t involved in Sabina Rustica incident, Sir Stan’s father felt compelled to adopt Audrey into his family.

That was the official reason, but Lansius and even Audrey herself were doubtful. However, one thing was certain: Audrey’s origins as a citizen of western Centuria made her adoption an easy fix, with people naturally suspecting Arvenians and not Centurians.

Reflecting on all this stirred something within Lansius. “Come here, girl.”

Contrary to his words, Lansius was the one who moved toward her.

“Eh, what are you—” she began to protest as Lansius enveloped her in a hug from behind.

“I can’t help it. You look so cute today.”

“Stop it, Lans,” Audrey protested, her cheeks turning pink. “If you want to succeed, you need to marry a noblewoman. Uwaa, don’t sniff my hair. It’s dirty and sweaty!”

Ignoring her protests, Lansius buried his face in her hazelnut brown hair. Audrey made a quick attempt to free herself from his arms, but Lansius held her firmly. “But it’s winter, you can’t possibly be sweating that much . . . Oof, okay, maybe just a little,” he teased.

Audrey gripped his arms and managed to break free, displaying her strength. “I’m practicing daily. That’s why it’s sweaty,” she retorted while staring at Lansius with a hint of killing intent.

No, it’s just her usual gaze.

“Your eyes, Audrey . . . they’re a bit unnerving,” Lansius remarked, his thoughts drifting back to an event that took place in Toruna the previous year. Spring had yet to fully arrive when a black carriage trundled up the mud-soaked country road to the manor’s entrance.

That day, Sir Stan had welcomed a member of the Hunter Guild. The person was invited to confirm the mage’s suspicions about Audrey’s eyes. The guildsman, a man in his fifties, expressed surprise to see someone outside of the Hunter Guild with a skill akin to Carnivore Sight.

This ability could trigger a primal fear in beasts. It was useful to deter aggressive beasts from attacking, or to stun a rabbit from running away.

Audrey herself confirmed the guildsman’s assessment, revealing she seldom faced problems with wild animals. Although the guest wouldn’t elaborate further, Lansius suspected that the ability also worked against humans, as he had experienced during their regular sparring sessions. It was nearly impossible to fight Audrey while maintaining eye contact.

“Not sorry.” Audrey glared.

“Ah, right, I’m sorry,” Lansius apologized, though he felt the hug was worth it.

“I need to go,” Audrey announced, grabbing her golden fur coat.

“Where to?” Lansius asked.

“To practice. I need to teach Carla and Sterling.”

“Why don’t you stay a bit longer? Like you used to . . .”

Audrey looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Audrey, I feel like you’ve been avoiding me more. Are you hiding something?”

She clicked her tongue. “I keep no secrets.”

“Then why?” asked Lansius.

Audrey hesitated for a moment before responding. “It’s not you. It’s me . . . If I stay by your side, no noble will offer you their daughter.”

Lansius drew a deep breath. “I already told you, I don’t want that.”

“Lans, you’re the smart one,” she pleaded. “You should know that marrying someone like me is a dead end. Worse, I’m oath-bound to—”

“I know about your vendetta. I can help you with that,” Lansius interrupted, trying to comfort her.

The sound of the cooking pot boiling filled the room. Audrey looked down, deep in thought. “I don’t think I can accept that. I’m sure you’ll find someone better. A proper lady . . .”

Lansius grabbed her hand, feeling the warmth of her palm and fingers. “Remember Ceresia?”

Audrey looked away. “What about it?”

“Just us and Horsie in a barn, and a roaring fireplace.”

She smiled softly as she remembered those simpler times. “There were also two old men and a couple of boys in there.”

Lansius chuckled, but his laughter faded quickly. A thought came to mind. “Audrey, what if I weren’t a noble?”

Audrey furrowed her brow, caught off guard by his question. “What do you mean? Are you thinking of giving up?”

“No, no, I mean, just imagine for a moment, what if I were just a simple clerk from Riverstead?”

“If that were the case,” her words trailed off as memories from the past resurfaced. Suddenly, her expression changed, as if she had figured out the answer to a long-standing riddle. Acting on impulse, she rose on her tiptoes and gently pulled Lansius’s head toward her, pressing her lips against his in a tender, unexpected kiss.

Their lips locked together, and time stood still. Lansius was surprised at first but quickly melted into the kiss, his heart beating wildly. They parted too soon, and Lansius wished it had lasted longer.

Audrey took a step back, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red as she covered her mouth with her hand. Lansius couldn’t help but stare at her, grinning happily.

I always thought she had issues with me!

Audrey dashed to grab her fur coat and left the room in a hurry. Lansius chased her and called out to her shamelessly, “Mwah!”

“Nuoo!” Audrey objected furiously, quickening her pace along the corridor. The guards and attendants looked at each other, probably thinking the two were out of their minds.

Later, Lansius heard that Carla and Sterling had received the sparring of their lives. Lansius felt bad for them, but he couldn’t apologize since that would require explanations.

In the following days, Audrey avoided him as much as possible, which was difficult since they shared a castle. They only met at dinner, where she would sit near Lansius, where the best food was served. However, she intentionally kept her mouth full at all times and wasn’t involved in the conversation.

The staff smelled something fishy and tried to pry information out of Lansius, but he wouldn’t give them anything, fearing they might try to stage something.

After all, the Korelians had a vested interest in this matter. They would benefit greatly if Lansius married another Lowlandian noble’s daughter.

This situation led Lansius to understand that, in the end, it was just Audrey and him against the world. But for once, he was at peace. For months, he had struggled to define their relationship, and only now he was sure that Audrey loved him back. For Lansius, that was all that truly mattered.

He had made a mistake in the past, but he wouldn’t let it happen again. He would no longer negotiate with his happiness. Even if people who depended on him would hate him for it, he would gladly shoulder the blame.