Has the knight lady who married into the countryside fallen into depravity today?

Ophelia heard Klein's barely suppressed laughter and finally stopped, turning her head to glare at him with her golden eyes.

Of course, given her usual expressionless face, it was less of a "glare" and more of a serious stare at him.

But Klein still accurately picked up on a hint of annoyance—the light in those golden pupils was slightly sharper than usual, like a drawn sword blade with an imperceptible edge.

"I... have only ever been blessed by others," she said softly, as if she were making a defense, or simply stating a fact. "I have never blessed anyone."

Her eyelashes drooped slightly, concealing the fleeting unease in her eyes.

Klein's smile faded slightly. After a moment's thought, he quickly understood the meaning behind her words.

As the empire's sharpest sword, her past life consisted of nothing but training, going to war, and returning home.

Those who used her as a weapon naturally offered her only one kind of blessing.

"May your military prowess flourish"—these are probably the four words she has heard most often in her life.

As for blessing others? That kind of warm and tender life scene has never belonged to the killing gods on the battlefield.

The smile on Klein's lips hadn't completely faded, but it had become even gentler: "You'll get used to it."

Ophelia looked up, her golden eyes filled with genuine confusion. A few strands of hair on her forehead were lifted by the evening breeze, shimmering with a faint golden glow in the afterglow of the setting sun.

What are your habits?

Klein's gaze passed over her shoulder and looked toward the sun-warmed meadow in the distance, which seemed to be infected by the atmosphere of the wedding—scattered wildflower petals, trampled grass, and the lingering aroma of ale in the air.

His voice also became gentle and melodious, as if he were describing a painting she had never seen before.

"In the future, you will offer blessings to many people. Perhaps you will wish a newborn a safe and healthy growth, or perhaps you will wish a newlywed couple like Daisy and her husband a long and happy life together."

He paused, his gaze returning to her face. The light in his eyes was warmer and more penetrating than the evening sun, as if it could see directly into her heart.

"And what you hear will no longer be just 'good fortune in war'."

That gaze seemed to have warmth, falling on her with an undeniable warmth that made her subconsciously want to escape.

Ophelia's heel rubbed against the grass, her body reacting before her will, taking two steps back to create a slightly safer, yet more spacious distance.

Her right hand unconsciously rose and pressed against her chest.

A dull, rapid thud echoed in her chest, one after another, like a sledgehammer shattering her usual steady rhythm. Each heartbeat felt so heavy it seemed to shatter her ribs, making her eardrums tingle.

She recalled the end of certain training sessions, when her physical strength was pushed to the limit, and she collapsed to her knees, utterly exhausted, her heart pounding wildly in her ears. At those times, her lungs burned, her limbs ached, and she almost lost the strength to grip her sword.

But now, she is neither exhausted nor injured.

She just stood there.

But... standing on this sun-warmed grass, standing in front of him, listening to him speak to her in that tender, almost suffocating tone about a future she had never imagined.

This feeling was so unfamiliar that she almost wanted to draw her sword—at least then she would know how to deal with it.

But the person in front of him took a step forward with a puzzled look on his face, his brows furrowed slightly, and asked with genuine concern:

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

He raised his hand, as if wanting to touch her forehead.

Ophelia’s throat moved almost imperceptibly, and the hand pressed against her chest tightened, gripping the fabric.

She took a full breath, forcing herself to focus on the rhythm of her breathing—inhaling, exhaling, just as the instructors had instructed during training.

She forcefully suppressed the beast that was rampaging through her chest and reined it in with reason.

When he looked up again, his golden eyes had returned to calm, as if the moment of loss of control had never happened.

"It's nothing."

Her voice was calm as usual, even colder than usual, as if she had deliberately wrapped something in frost.

Klein stared at her for a moment, a thoughtful glint in his deep eyes, but he didn't ask any questions. He simply nodded slightly and withdrew his outstretched hand.

"That's good," he said, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. "I was worried I'd said something wrong."

……

The wedding festivities gradually subsided as the guests departed, leaving only the people at the manor to help clean up the remaining mess.

The setting sun painted the sky a warm orange-red, and the clouds were edged with gold, as if someone had spilled a whole jar of honey across the heavens. Night was quietly falling, and the first star was already faintly visible on the eastern horizon.

Raymond glanced at the sky, walked to Klein's side, and bowed slightly: "Sir, Madam, it's getting late. I'll arrange for a carriage to take everyone home."

Klein nodded, his gaze still fixed on the distant sky dyed red by the setting sun.

Not long after, Raymond returned with a barely perceptible furrow in his brow, his expression somewhat troubled.

"Sir, we don't have enough carriages."

He lowered his voice and reported to the leader, his tone tinged with frustration, "There are so many people here today that most of the carriages in town have been hired. The one we brought can't fit everyone at once. If we have to make two trips, it will probably be completely dark by the time we get there and back."

Upon hearing this, Martha and the other maids immediately stopped what they were doing and looked over in unison, their faces filled with worry.

Raymond's solution came almost off the cuff: "You and your wife can take the car back first, we can wait for the next one, or we can walk back—"

"No need for that," Klein interrupted him, his voice relaxed and casual.

He glanced at Ophelia, who was standing quietly beside him, then smiled at Raymond with an indescribable pleasure in his smile: "You two take the carriage and go ahead. Ophelia and I will walk back."

"How can this be!" Raymond's voice immediately rose several decibels, the butler almost losing his composure. His eyes widened as if he had heard something outrageous. "It's almost dark, and the road is difficult to travel on. Besides, how can we servants be expected to ride in a carriage while you and your wife walk?"

This is completely out of line! If word gets out, people will think he's some kind of butler!

"What's with all the logic?" Klein waved his hand dismissively, his smile widening. "Just think of it as a walk to digest. I ate too much at the wedding banquet, so it's good to get some exercise."

He paused, then turned his gaze to Ophelia, his deep eyes filled with a gentle smile. He didn't lower his voice; instead, he spoke in a clear and composed tone, ensuring everyone present could hear him clearly.

"Perfect timing, I'd like to spend some time alone with my wife."

The air fell silent instantly.

Even the evening breeze seemed to hold its breath.

Raymond's remaining words were stuck in his throat, unable to utter a single word. He froze on the spot, his expression as varied as if he had been frozen in place.

"oh--!"

Martha was the first to react. She exaggeratedly covered her mouth, her eyes wide like saucers, and frantically nudged her companion with her elbow, her voice trembling with excitement as she whispered, "Did you hear that? Did you hear that?! Master said he wants to be alone with Madam for a while! Oh my god! Master is... this is..."

She was so excited that she could barely speak, and could only keep waving her hands as if trying to fan out all the shock in her heart.

Several young maids blushed instantly, wanting to look but not daring to, they could only lower their heads, cover their mouths with their hands and laugh secretly, their shoulders shaking.

Now that's great! Forget about waiting for the next trip, they can't wait to fly away immediately and leave this world intact to the newlyweds!

"Then...then...Master! We're leaving now! Right away!" Martha reacted the fastest, calling to the others and practically scrambling onto the carriage with incredible agility. "You and your wife should take your time! Don't rush! Be careful on the road!"

"Yes, yes, yes! Take it slow!" The other maids chimed in, scrambling to squeeze onto the carriage.

A group of people shoved onto the carriage, and casually pulled Raymond, who was still in a state of shock and speechless, onto it as well.

Before the driver could fully process what was happening, the people behind him urged him to set off quickly.

"Hurry up! Hurry up! Don't interrupt the master and madam's time together!" Martha shouted from the car, her voice full of excitement.

The carriage wheels turned, creaking and groaning, and soon disappeared at the end of the country road, raising a cloud of dust and taking away the last vestiges of noise.

The bustling crowd receded like the tide, leaving only Klein and Ophelia standing side by side on the country road as dusk deepened.

A gentle evening breeze carried the scent of grass and earth from the fields, mingled with the aroma of smoke rising from distant farmhouses. The last vestiges of orange-red on the horizon were fading, replaced by a deep twilight blue. The first star had fully emerged, twinkling faintly against the sky.

Ophelia remained silent, simply watching everything unfold. Her golden pupils, in the fading light, resembled two amber beads veiled in mist, reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

Her fingers unconsciously curled up and then relaxed, repeating this subtle movement several times.

Klein took the first step, but instead of taking her hand as before, he maintained a subtle, not-too-close, distance between them, with about an arm's length between their shoulders.

He turned his head, his voice soft in the rising evening breeze, yet clearly reaching her ears.

"Let's go," he said, a gentle smile still playing on his lips, his eyes shining brighter than the stars in the sky. "The road ahead is long, let's take it slow."

He paused, then added, "It's a perfect opportunity to see the sunset here. You... probably haven't seen it much before, have you?"

Ophelia paused slightly.

Sunset?

She looked up at the sky, which was dyed orange and golden.

The clouds were layered upon layered, as if they had been carefully painted with a paintbrush, each color slowly changing, gradually transitioning from bright gold to deep purplish-red.

She really... rarely looked at such scenery.

Over the years, she watched countless sunsets, but each time it was on the battlefield, amidst corpses and blood. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the armor, on the blood-stained blade; the light was not a warm orange-red, but a piercing, cold crimson.

Such a quiet, gentle sunset, devoid of any murderous intent, exists only in her almost forgotten childhood memories.

"Mmm," she responded softly and started walking.

The two walked side by side on the country road, their feet on the dirt road that had been warmed by the setting sun all day.

In the distance came the calls of birds returning to their nests and the crackling of firewood burning during a farmer's evening meal.

Dusk was falling, and the road ahead was still long.