Without realizing it, Rohan's mind drifted toward his lord.
The first thing that ca to him was his lord's appearance. Handso was far too plain a word to describe him. No, Michael was beyond that -beautiful, even. Yet despite his almost delicate features, there was nothing feminine about him. His body was slender but held a quiet, masculine strength that made one forget his appearance entirely when he moved or spoke.
Still, that beauty had caused no small amount of trouble within the territory. The lord himself was unaware of it, but Rohan had seen enough to know.
After their visit from that certain old knight, Michael had begun to move more actively around Thornvale. It began with food, specifically, the sudden appearance of several tons of processed supplies deep in the forest. Even now, Rohan had no idea how it had been done. The goods looked too refined, too perfect, as if a powerful mage had personally grown them.
He did not know, of course, that these goods ca from Aurora, a world far beyond his understanding. Michael had been careful, concealing the items' origin with ordinary casings and simple packaging, but even so, their quality spoke volus.
Then there were the armors and weapons. The n who used them swore they felt lighter yet stronger than anything forged locally. Rohan had wondered more than once where his lord obtained them, but he never dared to ask.
Perhaps if he were stronger, he might have risked curiosity. But he wasn't. And deep down, a quiet instinct told him that his lord's strength was beyond what any of them could asure. Whether he was still within the Grand Stage or already above it, Rohan couldn't say. But he had seen enough to know that Michael was not ordinary.
Because of his lord, the territory thrived. Under his direction,
Thornvale had begun to change faster than anyone expected. Roads were repaired, granaries filled, soldiers properly equipped-all within a few months.
Yet for all his power, kindness, and efficiency, the trouble always circled back to his appearance.
Once Michael started appearing more often in public, Thornvale's young won began to lose their composure. Rohan had caught servants gossiping about the lord's "eyes like glass" and "smile that could make angels jealous." So won went out of their way to wander near the manor gates just for a glimpse of him.
And not only the young ones. Even a few older won were far more shaless than their daughters.
It was chaos.
Rohan's thoughts snagged on a notion.
Could the princess have fallen into the sa trap as the others?
He kept his face blank and eyes forward, but he stole a careful glance at the carriage slit.
Is it curiosity or interest? Rohan wondered. Or both?
Rohan did not say anything, but the thought lingered in his mind. He would not be surprised if the princess had also been taken in by his lord's looks. If he were a woman himself, he might have been, too. The thought made him pause, and he quickly shook it away.
Still, he could not deny that his lord possessed a charm that drew people in, whether they intended to be drawn or not.
The escort continued onward. Before long, they reached the outer gates of Thornvale.
When the carriage rolled to a slow stop, the princess pulled the curtain aside, peering out with curiosity.
Her gaze swept over the surroundings, and the first thing she noticed was the cleanness. The streets were spotless, the stone walls freshly nded, and the soldiers patrolling looked sharp and disciplined. Then her attention shifted toward the people. There were far more of them than she had expected.
"There are quite a number of people here," Arianne remarked softly, turning her gaze to Rohan. "I thought Thornvale was sparsely populated?"
Rohan bowed slightly from his saddle. "The population has increased a bit, Your Highness. Nothing significant," he replied evenly. But inwardly, he could not help the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A bit, he thought. That's putting it mildly.
The truth was, Thornvale's population had nearly doubled. The change had begun after the "gifts" offered by five of the lords under Michael. Each of them, seeking to recover their losses and regain favor, had sent not just resources but people.
They had sold off their commoners, seeing them as mouths too costly to feed in such harsh tis.
But population was never the true issue-wealth was. As long as one
was rich, one could rebuild. Those sa lords knew that when the next harvest of resources arrived, they would make back what they'd lost, even if now they had to give a share to Michael.
Soon, Rohan announced their arrival.
He reined his horse to a stop before the gates of the manor and dismounted smoothly, the sunlight glinting off his polished armor. Turning toward the carriage, he stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"We've arrived, Princess," he said.
The carriage door opened with a soft creak, and Rohan extended his hand. A mont later, Arianne's slender fingers rested lightly in his palm as she stepped down. Her boots touched the stone path, and the faint scent of roses drifted in the breeze as she straightened her
posture.
But the mont her gaze lifted toward the manor gates, her breath
caught.
Standing there, sunlight spilling across him like molten gold, was Michael.
He was not in fancy clothing, yet sohow he appeared even more imposing than any knight she had seen. His attire was simple-black and green, tailored perfectly to his form-but the way he carried himself radiated effortless authority. The faint breeze brushed his long, loose hair aside, revealing a face that could have been sculpted by the heavens.
Michael stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The soldiers flanking the gate bowed deeply the instant she appeared, yet her attention barely registered them. Her eyes stayed fixed on the man
before her.
Michael's gaze t hers. For an instant, she felt as if he saw through her. It was unnerving, but strangely captivating.
Rohan, oblivious to her brief loss of composure, bowed toward Michael. "My lord, Princess Arianne Evermoon of House Evermoon
has arrived safely."
Michael inclined his head slightly, his tone smooth as he replied, "Welco to Thornvale, Princess."
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