"Joe?"

  Joe gazed at his father, his mind wandering. After a moment, he spoke, "Another war could break out any day."

  Jeffrey shook his head and placed his hands firmly on Joe's shoulders. "No, son. War isn’t..."

  "Inevitable," Joe finished for him. "War always comes. One day, I’ll be forced to go, and you’ll be left behind. You’ll be old, worn out, and needing care. Even if you refuse to marry that noblewoman, our village, Lady Ita’s village, and all the others will suffer at the hands of some other noble family."

  Jeffrey glanced at Joe’s trembling hands. Joe admitted, his voice shaking, "I’m scared. One day, I’ll have to fight to the death... and dying, it seems too simple."

  Without a word, Jeffrey pulled Joe into an embrace as Joe continued bitterly, "Mother died, Kaelen died, Titus died—all so easily. It’s going to happen. At least if I go to war, I’ll know someone’s here to look after you."

  The next morning, Joe set out to deliver messages to nearby villages, while Jeffrey stayed behind, reading a book as he waited for Bot and Rhothomir.

  A soft knock interrupted the quiet. Jeffrey stood, calling out, "I’m coming!"

  When he opened the door, Lyra stood there with a warm smile. "Good morning, Jeffrey."

  "Morning, Lyra," Jeffrey responded, his own smile gentle. He handed her a small purse filled with coins. Lyra blinked, surprised. "For what?" she asked, confused. "I don’t..."

  Jeffrey pressed the purse into her hands and spoke earnestly, "For taking care of my son while I was away this past year. I owe you that much. Thank you."

  Lyra stared at the purse, clearly moved. "But... this is too much. You’re not blaming yourself for Edmund’s death, are you?"

  Jeffrey looked away, his voice low and burdened by memory. "Edmund... he saved me once, you know."

  Lyra’s expression softened as she listened.

  "It was a year after I lost Basil, Beatrice’s father," Jeffrey went on, his voice thick with emotion. "We were in the cave, mining. The roof started shaking, and I got others out but couldn’t save myself. I never told Beatrice this, but Edmund... he didn’t stop. He threw rocks aside until he dug me out. His arms were broken, but he just kept digging until I was safe."

  He let out a heavy sigh, the weight of guilt hanging between them. "Seeing him dead—it cut deep. The nightmares haven’t stopped, Lyra. They won’t let go. So, this... this isn’t just for you. It’s for me too. To feel like I’ve done something. Please, take it as a small thanks for all you've done. And I’m sorry I couldn’t save Edmund."

  Lyra nodded, clutching the purse tightly. "I forgave you, Jeffrey, a long time ago. But... have you forgiven yourself?"

  Before he could answer, Jeffrey was seized by a violent coughing fit, his throat so dry it felt like it might tear. He shook his head, managing to rasp out, "Sorry... Lyra. I'll... see you... later."

  Lyra gave him a nod as Jeffrey hurried back inside. In the kitchen, he gulped down water, sighing as he felt the cool liquid soothe the desert-like dryness in his throat. Afterwards, he collapsed into a chair, memories swirling in his mind. Staring at the door, he whispered to himself, "Joe? Where are you, kid? Please... don't leave me alone."

  Three hours later, there was a gentle knock at the door—Rhothomir and Bot had arrived. Jeffrey answered, forcing himself to appear more energetic. Rhothomir’s concern was immediate as he asked, "Jeffrey, are you feeling okay?"

  Jeffrey shook his head quickly. "I'm fine. Come in, let’s get this done."

  Once inside, the three men took their seats. Bot fidgeted nervously with his hands, his worry palpable. Rhothomir gave him a reassuring pat on the back, though the tension remained. Bot’s thoughts were consumed by one thing: securing his daughter’s future. He would stop at nothing to ensure it.

  Taking a deep breath, Jeffrey steadied himself before speaking. "I agree to..."

  Bot let out a huge sigh of relief, covering his face with trembling hands. His breathing grew heavy, as though the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, Jeffrey! You will—"

  Jeffrey cut him off sharply. "I haven’t finished, Bot."

  Bot looked confused, glancing between Rhothomir and Jeffrey. "But you accepted?"

  Jeffrey nodded, but his expression was serious. "Yes, I accept. But only on certain conditions. If you can’t agree, you’ll need to find someone else for your daughter."

  Bot, eager to secure the arrangement, nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes! Just name your conditions. I’ll pay whatever it takes!"

  Jeffrey squared his shoulders, his tone firm. "I’ll marry your daughter, but I won’t touch her for three years. During that time, we will not live together."

  Bot blinked, his confusion only grew. "Why three years? Once you’re husband and wife, living together—even in a damn mansion—is the usual thing, isn’t it?"

  Jeffrey’s voice was unyielding. "My wife passed away a year ago. Beatrice’s funeral was just last week. I am not the kind of man who seeks comfort from another woman so soon after losing his wife. Beatrice meant everything to me, and no one can replace her. That is my first condition."

  Bot nodded in agreement. "I don’t care about the details. As long as marrying my daughter keeps that king from laying a hand on her, that’s all that matters to me. What’s your next condition?"

  Jeffrey spoke with confidence. "I plan to turn this region into a prosperous community for everyone. I’ll need your help as my father-in-law and an experienced merchant. You’ll manage the finances and guide investments—things that come naturally to you. I’ll rely on you as my right hand, and of course, you’ll be compensated further once we bring wealth to this region."

  Bot raised his hands in acceptance. "Agreed. Anything else?"

  "That’s it," Jeffrey replied. "But are you truly committed to this journey with me, Bot? Are your heart and soul in this as much as mine?"

  Bot gripped Jeffrey's hand firmly, nodding. "Yes, I’m with you all the way. You've got my back, and I’ve got yours, son."

  Two weeks later, Rhothomir and Bot returned to Celea, a city known for two things: the starting point for new adventurers and the home of the Guild of Sorcerers.

  This was the city where Bot had been born and spent most of his life. Over the years, he had helped countless people find work and put roofs over their heads. As a result, Bot was deeply respected by the people—known as a shrewd businessman with a heart of iron, but also a sense of responsibility and fairness.

  Their carriage pulled up in front of a grand mansion and came to a stop.

  Bot stepped out with a weary sigh after the long journey, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck, the strain from the travel clear in his movements. Rhothomir, however, appeared unfazed. He looked at Bot and called out, "Uncle?"

  Bot waved dismissively. "Go on. You’ve spent an entire month with me, travelling all over and doing things someone in your position shouldn’t be doing. Get back to your duties."

  Rhothomir nodded, heading toward the gates for a quick walk down the street to the Royal Offices where his work awaited. But as he reached the gates, he heard his uncle’s voice again.

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  "Thank you, son."

  Rhothomir turned to see Bot looking at him with genuine gratitude. "Thanks for everything. I’ll reward you handsomely when..."

  Rhothomir shook his head firmly. "That’s not how it works with me, Uncle."

  Bot let out a frustrated sigh, but then a smile tugged at his lips. "Alright, how about this? When I find the time, you, me, and Evangeline will pack some food and head to the forest for a picnic—like the old days. Does that sound good?"

  Rhothomir’s face lit up with a smile. "Much better than coins. I’m looking forward to that."

  Bot returned the smile as the guards opened the gates for Rhothomir, who left for his duties.

  Inside the mansion, the maids and servants greeted him with deep bows. "Welcome back, sir!"

  He acknowledged them, nodding curtly as he made his way toward the stairs, his mind swirling with memories he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

  "She’s a vile woman! The moment I saw her, I knew exactly what kind of person she was!"

  Bot clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed on the steps as he ascended, the words from the past growing louder in his mind.

  "Look at her, all dolled up like some prize. As if that could cover up the rotten person underneath!"

  He pressed forward, staring straight ahead.

  "If her father wasn’t a noble and rolling in money, no one would even bother to look at her!"

  By the time he reached the second floor, the weight of it all seemed heavier than before. Bot slowed as he approached the large doors at the end of the hallway.

  "That woman’s so horrible, even her own mother couldn’t stand her."

  "Haha, right? That’s why she died. Probably couldn’t take being around her any longer!"

  Bot stopped in front of the door but didn’t knock, letting the ugly voices of the past tear at him.

  "She’s a disgrace. My brother was smart enough to call off his engagement to her."

  "Hahaha, you should’ve told me that sooner!"

  Bot’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk. "And you should’ve listened. But your friends’ lies meant more to you than the truth from my mouth. It’s a damn good thing you didn’t marry my daughter."

  "I regret to inform you, sir, that I must break off my engagement to your daughter. I’ve found someone else. I’m truly sorry."

  Bot turned his back to the door, his voice dripping with venom. "Good riddance. We don’t need you, and she certainly never did. We’ll do just fine."

  "I’ll tell you this, and I’m never wrong: she’ll end up paying men to sleep with her because that’s what happens to an arrogant woman with nothing but her looks!"

  "Hahaha, exactly! She’ll be begging for bastard children soon enough!"

  Bot sighed deeply as he finally knocked on the door. After a brief pause, a maid answered, her tall frame and striking red hair framing sharp green eyes. Despite her modest attire, Agatha carried herself with the quiet grace of someone well-placed in a noble household.

  She greeted him respectfully, "Lord Bot, welcome back. Please, come in."

  Bot’s expression softened as he stepped inside, settling into a chair adorned with small decorative pillows. He sighed, trying to ease the discomfort in his back, but his smile remained warm. "Agatha, I missed you."

  Her smile mirrored his. "I missed you too. Was your journey successful?"

  "For the most part, yes," Bot replied, adjusting his posture to relieve the ache. "The important thing is I accomplished what I needed to."

  Agatha’s eyes lit up with pride, and she clapped her hands in delight. "I knew you would!"

  Bot chuckled, pleased with her reaction. "Now, all that’s left is finding someone worthy to marry you."

  Agatha blushed slightly and laughed. "No rush. Let’s focus on planning this wedding first."

  Bot nodded, thinking aloud. "I’ve heard the Rox noble house is preparing for a wedding. Did they send invitations?"

  Agatha’s expression darkened, and she crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. "Yes, but only for you and me."

  Bot’s concern grew. "Only for us? What happened to the invitations?"

  Agatha's eyes flashed with anger. "I threw them into the fire. To hell with their wedding! I’m not going, and neither are you. They’ve always disrespected Evangeline, jealous of her."

  Bot nodded slowly, his agreement clear. "We will—"

  "Father?"

  A gentle hand rested on Bot's shoulders, and a soft yet firm voice followed, "I missed you, Father."

  Bot’s tense shoulders eased as he looked up to see his daughter, Evangeline. Her long teal hair cascaded over her blue dress, and her orange eyes sparkled with warmth as she smiled beautifully. She embraced him tightly, and he replied with a smile, "Daughter, I missed you too. I hope you're doing well."

  Evangeline nodded, her expression serene. "I'm with Agatha, so everything’s fine. But what about you? Was your journey safe and successful?"

  Bot nodded tiredly and rose to his feet. "It was, but I’m exhausted. We need to talk, though. Let’s sit on the couch."

  They moved to a large, cosy couch where they could speak in comfort. Agatha soon returned with three cups of honey and lemon tea, placing them in front of Bot and Evangeline before sitting with them.

  Bot spoke first. "Daughter, I’ve found a man for you. His name is Jeffrey Gostave. He’s a war champion, well-respected in the eastern region. With him by your side, the king will never approach you—*ever*."

  Evangeline listened intently, nodding. "Thank you, Father, for always protecting me. But I do have some questions."

  Bot’s expression softened as he responded, "Of course. Ask anything."

  Before Evangeline could continue, Bot turned to Agatha. "Agatha, send a messenger at once. Announce that my daughter will be married in two months to Jeffrey Gostave. Hurry."

  Agatha stood and quickly left the chamber. As she closed the door behind her, a broad smile spread across her face. She couldn’t contain her joy, thrilled that her dear friend Evangeline was finally getting married. In her excitement, she jumped in the hallway, her heart filled with happiness.

  Two maids passing by stopped and stared at Agatha in confusion. Embarrassed, she quickly composed herself and barked, "You two, back to work!"

  They nodded and scurried off to the third floor to resume their duties. Once they were gone, Agatha smiled to herself and made her way downstairs to fulfil Bot’s request.

  Back in the chamber, Bot faced Evangeline, who asked, "Is he a good man, Father? Brave?"

  Bot nodded reassuringly. "Yes, he is a good man. A brave man."

  Evangeline hesitated for a moment, then asked, "But didn’t his wife die just last year? Isn’t he a womanizer who jumped at the chance to marry another woman as soon as possible?"

  Bot shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You have no idea how hard I had to work to convince him. He was stubbornly honourable, refusing at first. People like him make great men but not always great businessmen."

  Evangeline nodded thoughtfully. "I'm sorry for asking so many questions, Father. It’s just... I’m scared."

  Bot’s expression softened as he looked at her. "What are you afraid of, daughter?"

  Evangeline hesitated, her voice quiet as she admitted, "I’m afraid I won’t be happy, that I’ll suffer. Maybe those noblewomen were right about me... maybe I am a bad person."

  Bot shook his head firmly, his voice gentle. "No, no, no. You are a kind-hearted girl, Evangeline. You've done nothing wrong. Those women were jealous, envious of who you are. And Jeffrey? He will protect you. He is the man your mother would have chosen."

  Evangeline’s expression softened as she rested her head against her father’s. Bot continued, his tone comforting, "You are a good girl. You will live happily, I promise. And Agatha and I will always be by your side, alright?"

  She nodded, comforted by his words, just as Agatha returned to the room. "Lord Bot, I’ve prepared a light dinner for you, a hot bath to help you relax, and your bed is ready. The messenger has also been dispatched."

  Bot sighed with relief. "Let’s eat. I’m tired, hungry, and everything hurts."

  As they stood up, Evangeline suddenly remembered something. "Father, I forgot to ask. Where will I be living with Jeffrey?"

  Bot turned to her, explaining, "You’ll stay here for three years. After that, you’ll move to Eldoria City."

  Both Evangeline and Agatha exchanged confused glances. Evangeline asked, "Three years? Why so long?"

  Bot explained, "His wife passed away last year. Out of respect for her memory, he won’t live with you until those three years have passed."

  Evangeline was touched by Jeffrey’s thoughtfulness. It was something she had never heard of before. Agatha smiled warmly at her and said, "You’re marrying a man, a true man, darling."

  Bot sighed dramatically, drawing their attention. With a playful groan, he added, "That man will be a thorn in my side, mark my words."

  Agatha and Evangeline smiled as Bot exited the chamber, making his way to the dining room. His expression softened into a smile as he thought to himself, "That kid may be a pain, but I like him."

  Meanwhile, in Goven village, the night sky hung over a gathering of villagers, all seated around a fire. Among them were Cox, Safle and her husband, Tyka, Urien, Joe, and Lyra. They listened intently as Jeffrey finished his speech, saying, "And that's it. I’ll be a noble soon."

  The villagers nodded in acknowledgement. Lyra smiled warmly, her voice filled with encouragement. "I'm happy for you, Jeffrey. You'll lead us to better days. I believe in you."

  Tyka, Urien, and the others expressed their agreement, but then Cox stood up, his face tight with emotion. His gaze fell on the iron hammer he was holding, his hands gripping it tightly. "It's good you’re not moving in with that noblewoman for three years," he began, his voice steady. "Otherwise, there’d be no need for words."

  He lifted the hammer slightly, staring at it as he spoke. "Because if you'd really gone to live with her right away, I swear on my parents’ souls, I would've smashed your skull open with this."

  Jeffrey nodded, his expression serious. "You know I love and respect..."

  Cox cut him off, his voice cracking with raw emotion. "I don’t care about your words. I thought..." His voice faltered, and he clenched his jaw before continuing, "I made the mistake of thinking you’d forget Beatrice. She was like a daughter to me, and I couldn't save her that day."

  The crowd grew sombre, heads lowering as they recalled the tragedy. Joe, trembling, struggled with his own painful memories as he watched Cox. His voice broke as he echoed, "I thought you might forget her... that’s why I... I..."

  Cox’s eyes welled with tears, and Jeffrey stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. Cox looked up, his face contorted with grief, and said, "Don’t... don’t ever forget your wife, Beatrice. Never forget her, you hear me? NEVER!"

  A single tear escaped Jeffrey’s eye at the mention of his late wife. He lowered his head for a brief moment before lifting it again to meet the gaze of the villagers. Some looked tearful, others resolute, but all were united in their silent regard for him as their leader.

  "I will never forget Beatrice," Jeffrey said, his voice firm. "I will never forget Edmund, Kaelen... or the people we laid to rest in this village." His eyes then met Cox's, his expression fierce. "And if I ever dare to forget them…"

  He gestured toward Cox's hammer. "You can go ahead and split my damn skull with that."