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At first, it was supposed to be a straight and forward journey to the Dukedom. All of the men were tired and deserved to be back with their families--all of whom placed their utmost trust in Killorn.
Killorn didn't want Ophelia to suffer a day longer on this journey. He wanted her home as soon as possible. She should be bathing in the finest mineral water with essential oil distilled to perfection.
Ophelia shouldn't be god damn shivering in a carriage with stained clothes and a huddled posture. He was certain she was trying her hardest to not cry again. They've been reunited for how many days now? Two? And she was in tears for all of it.
"Ophelia."
Killorn had never once comforted someone--in his entire life. The boys he trained into grown men never cried as she did. At least, when they did whine or complain, they did their best to do it in private. There had been an instance where a little boy had hugged onto his thighs and cried, but then, comforted himself and walked off afterward.
Ophelia was different. Firstly, it wasn't because she was a woman, but because she was his wife. He couldn't just clap her on the back, said she did a good job and needed a fine-tuning to fix their mistakes, and called it a day. No, that'd make it worse.
"My lovely wife."
Ophelia was hard as a rock. She didn't dare to raise her head--not even when her puppy came to lick at her fingers, almost in apology for abandoning her. Not a second later, the lapping sensation was gone as Killorn grabbed the pet and placed it into the carriage floor.
The puppy let out a bark of complaint, but quickly quieted down. Killorn shot a warning glare. Immediately, the dog curled into a corner of the carriage and grumbled to himself.
"Ophelia, I... I uh..." Killorn cleared his throat. "I have a present for you."
On this treacherous road, he managed to conjure a gift? What was her husband? Not a swordmaster, but a magician now? Ophelia couldn't bring herself to show him her pathetic state.
"If you're going to cry, do it on my shoulders."
Killorn stroked her hair. She grimaced and turned her face, hiding it in the shadows of the carriage. He was persistent, even with the rattling carriage and rough roads.
"I-I just..." Ophelia attempted to tell him that he wasn't the issue. Well, he partially was. But not the entirety of it.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtOphelia was blaming herself. She loathed how useless she was in a situation like this. When they were fighting the goblins, all she did was freeze. In a fight or flight situation, she chose the worst one. Not to mention, she had the guts to cry when she wasn't even injured. She felt no right in shedding her tears.
"What is it?" Killorn persisted.
Ophelia wanted to share her blood with Killorn, but it seemed none of the knights were injured. They all handled the situation perfectly. Even a blood with healing properties would do nothing.
"I-I'm s-sorry for not d-doing anything during the b-battle..." Ophelia struggled out.
His gaze hardened with disapproval. "You didn't have to do anything, but sit still and be good."
Ophelia went back to her fetal position in dismay. She had never felt more useless than in his moment.
Wordlessly, Killorn undid the metal clasp on his armor and legs. The heavy material clattered loudly on the carriage floor, startling her.
Ophelia's head snapped to the commotion. Before she could protest, Killorn grabbed her waists. He pulled her in his direction and hoisted her onto his lap.
"Y-you shouldn't!" Ophelia resisted with two hands on his chest. She tried to separate their bodies as much as possible.
"I'm clean," Killorn growled, clutching both of her hands. She straddled his waist, but was keeping a distance between their upper bodies.
"B-but I-I'm not!" Ophelia didn't even know how he could stomach her disgusting appearance.
Ophelia was nearly violated by the goblins. Not to mention, his wife was trained by an auction house. Every inch of her was dirty.
Ophelia hated how weak she was. Instead of kicking them off, she had been paralyzed with fear. All of her life, she wasn't allowed to fight back. Her Grandmother would only beat her harder if she did.
"I do not care!" Killorn demanded. He forcibly yanked her into his direction, shoving her face into his neck, and her breasts against his.
Killorn crushed her feeble body against his own. Nothing could go in between their tangled limbs, not even a piece of paper.
"M-my lord..." Ophelia weakly protested.
"You're still trembling." Killorn reluctantly leaned back to present her with the herbal pouch that Everest had given.
"W-what's this?" Ophelia finally gave in to his insistence.
Ophelia wrapped a hand around his shoulder and timidly glanced down. In his large and gloved palms was a tiny pouch. When she sniffed, there was a calming scent of lavender and jasmine.
"Something for your nerves." Killorn nudged for her to take it.
Ophelia accepted the gift with a tiny and grateful smile. She peered up at him, and her heart swelled. He awkwardly rubbed his nose.
"Go on."
Then, Ophelia closed her fingers around it and took a whiff. True to his words, tranquility washed over her. She could tell there were more than just flowers mixed into there, but couldn't pinpoint exactly which herbs.
"T-thank you," Ophelia softly said, her expression soft with a smile.
Killorn deeply frowned. Such a simple thing and she was appreciative of it. What was wrong with this Eves woman he had married? Ophelia was unlike the rumors about her family. She wasn't repulsed by cheap items. Her gratitude was always sincere.
"I didn't make it." Killorn stroked the back of her head, inclining her to lay on his shoulders again.
Ophelia did so, with the pouch pressed to her nose. The more she inhaled, the slower her heart grew. Now, it was no longer erratic and wild.
"W-who did then?"
"Everest most likely received it from an irritating wizard who should be walking in hell and not on earth."
Ophelia was confused by this description, but highly curious. Her eyes widened and she wondered if it was the older man in robes.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"H-he knows h-how to use magic?"
"Yes."
"R-really?" Ophelia probed.
"Yes."
"L-like with mana and e-everything?"
"Yes, my lovely wife." Killorn felt a fuzziness in his chest.
Ophelia spoke with child-like wonders. When Killorn glanced down, he saw the stars sparkle in her amethyst gaze. Staring into those pupils reminded him of a fading sunset when the orange and red hues faded into lavender and dark blue.
Killorn couldn't help himself. He bent and kissed her nose. She sucked in a breath. With a startled expression, she slowly blinked. Then, her lips spread into an unsuspecting smile, her lashes fluttering.
Killorn swore he felt something move in his heart. He didn't know what, but he was willing to threaten every painter in existence to draw this moment.
"You're the most alluring woman I've ever seen, Ophelia." Killorn nuzzled his forehead against hers.
The pouch fell from her hand and onto her lap. He grabbed it and placed it back into her fingers. He realized she was slack with shock.
"You react as if no one has ever told you such a thing." Killorn was certain that'd be impossible. Truly. A single glance in Ophelia's direction was a breath of spring breeze. He could see the effect she had on his men.
Killorn had traveled with them far and wide. He journeyed across forests, deserts, and oceans. They were a rowdy bunch filled with laughter and teasing, but rarely were all of them enamored by the same woman--until now.
Ophelia was unable to respond. She simply buried her face into his shoulders and tightly squeezed her eyes shut. His chest was firm, but she could feel his soft exhale. Then, he caressed her hair.
"Sleep, my sweet, and when you arise, you will still be safe with me."
Ophelia didn't need to be told twice. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be lulled into serenity by this man who had just slain monsters like it was butter. He stroked her arms and back, his lips pressed upon her head.
Ophelia tried to believe in his words, but feared when they entered the vampire and werewolf-filled empire and he left her be, the word "safe" no longer belonged in any of their dictionaries.