Chapter Twenty-Two: The Howling Wolf

"Ah... all right."

The young man took the girl’s delicate hands and shoulders again, then focused all his attention on her picturesque, lovely face. His gaze gradually drifted, his perception of the surroundings faded away, and it seemed as if the only reflection left in his eyes was that of her beautiful face.

"My... Your Highness, why do you keep looking at..."

Being watched so intently by the person she adored, Anlia could not help but lower her head in shyness, the crimson flush on her cheeks spreading all the way to her ears. However, after receiving no response for a long while, she looked up in confusion, only to find the young man suddenly taking her hand and beginning to move.

His dance steps became fluid and elegant in an instant. His firm arm wrapped naturally around her waist, and every movement, every turn, was executed with perfect precision. Though the girl felt a bit bewildered, she soon found herself lost in the young man’s beautiful, night-like dark eyes.

Ah!
His Highness is looking at me.
His Highness is only looking at me.
His Highness has only me in his eyes!

The girl felt as if she were immersed in the sweetness of honey. Her skirt swirled with the steps of the dance, her golden hair shimmered in the firelight, and her smile seemed like the brightest star in the night sky. The brilliant moonlight shone upon the pair dancing together, and for a moment, it felt as if the entire world had fallen silent.

The villagers by the bonfire stopped their own dancing, clearing a spacious area for them. Because the dance between the young man and the girl was so breathtaking, they could not help but cheer.

"Anlia... she is truly beautiful! Gods above, if only she were my wife; I would weave flower crowns for her for the rest of my life."

The young villager who had previously failed to find a dance partner stared blankly at the blue-clad figure by the fire, speaking his thoughts aloud without realizing it. However, he soon felt his throat being gripped tightly.

"Fell, I have something to discuss with you. Come with me."

Berg dragged and pulled Fell into a nearby thicket, followed by the sounds of beating and wailing. As a retainer, it was his duty to protect his master’s woman from being eyed by others, even if it was just verbal. Besides, he had long been annoyed by this kid—he didn't farm, didn't pick fruit, and didn't hunt; he just spent his days shamelessly trying to woo the village girls, acting just as idle as the yellow dog at the village entrance!

"Good, all is good!"

Robert watched his foster daughter dancing with the young lord, then looked at Berg dragging Fell into the bushes, a look of gratification and satisfaction appearing on his weathered face.

He felt this was the happiest day of his life. Only a few days ago, he had been tossing and turning, unable to sleep, his head throbbing with old wounds due to the tax burden, but now he was so happy he wondered if this was all just a beautiful, long-lasting dream.

"Oh, Sun and Justice, I beseech you to bless this kind-hearted Highness. I am willing to offer you my humble and devout soul; perhaps it is of no use to you, but it is all I have."

Gazing at the dark figure by the bonfire, Robert clasped his hands together and prayed to his god with unprecedented devotion.

...

As the dance concluded, Xia Mingyu finally began to return to his senses. The girl he held in his arms was so shy that her fair skin, exposed beyond her dress, was stained with a cherry-blossom pink flush. Yet, her clear blue eyes remained fixed on Xia Mingyu, swirling with emotion, truly captivating.

Anlia then slowly closed her eyes.

When a girl closes her eyes, it means she wants you to kiss her. Xia Mingyu naturally understood this, so he slowly leaned down and kissed her petal-soft lips.

...

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

Knight Sorin Brooke, after weighing the pros and cons, decided to temporarily abandon his tax collection mission. After handing over the Clay merchant, Mills, to his trusted aide and ordering him to be sent to the City of Slaves, Knight Sorin mounted his swift horse and galloped without pause toward the castle where his lord resided.

After several hours of hard riding, Knight Sorin finally arrived at the core of the Black Wolf Territory—Wolfhowl Castle—at the height of the moonlight.

"Uncle Sean, request an audience with the Lord for me immediately! I have vital intelligence to report!"

Knight Sorin leaped from his horse, calling out impatiently to the castle steward. The old steward, sixty years of age, who had watched Sorin grow from a boy to a man, had never seen him so anxious before. He immediately summoned the maids to wake their master, who had already retired for the night.

...

A short while later, in the castle's great hall.

A massive iron chandelier hung from the high ceiling, filled with candles that cast a soft, warm glow, illuminating the dimness. Swords, shields, and armor adorned the walls, symbolizing the lord's formidable martial power. Above the central throne hung a massive banner depicting a black wolf's head—the crest of the Hughes family.

Knight Sorin stood quietly on the wolf-skin rug below the throne, waiting for his lord's arrival, flanked by two beautiful maids.

Not long after, a mature man who appeared to be in his early thirties stepped in. His features were sharp and defined, his deep green eyes were piercing, and he sported a refined beard, looking every bit the polished gentleman. However, his build was exceptionally tall—over one meter ninety—with broad shoulders and thick arms, clearly the mark of a seasoned warrior. The only flaw was that he was not wearing opulent black formal wear or sturdy armor, but a loose-fitting red silk robe. There were even a few lipstick marks on his neck.

This greatly diminished the lord's dignity, but it was clear that neither of the two men in the hall cared about such details, and the maids were in no position to judge their master's decorum.

"My Lord, I am deeply sorry to have disturbed your sleep."

Seeing the man approach, Knight Sorin knelt on one knee without hesitation, his proud head bowed low.

"No matter. It is my own lack of decorum as a lord to meet you in my nightclothes; we are even."

The master of the Black Wolf Territory, the renowned "Wailing Wolf" Kaelen Hughes, stretched comfortably, sat down on his throne without ceremony, and took a small sip of the black tea offered by a maid. Then, as he looked down at Sorin, a trace of inexplicable gratitude crossed his eyes.

At least he didn't have to pay the "public grain" tax.

"Sorin, by my reckoning, you should not have finished the tax collection yet, should you?" Kaelen asked in a deep voice.

"Indeed. Because the intelligence was of such grave importance, I took the liberty of temporarily abandoning the tax mission you ordered," Sorin replied, looking up respectfully.

"I see..." Kaelen’s gaze deepened, and he took another sip of tea.

He could not imagine what kind of intelligence would cause Sorin to abandon his duties and ride through the night, not even hesitating to disturb his sleep to report it. Could it be that war had broken out in the kingdom again?

*Sigh*, if that were the case, it would be truly against his wishes, especially since his beloved son had only just been born.

"Sorin, report."

"In Fruit Basket Village, I encountered a noble Highness. His identity blessing is..."

*Bang!*

The sound of a shattered teacup rang out abruptly.