CHAPTER 337: CHAPTER 337 HOOD

The months flew by like fleeting seasons, and with them came milestones that marked a new Chapter in Riley’s life.

Aurora was the first to deliver, giving birth to a sturdy, healthy son.

She named him Griffin, a name that carried both nobility and strength.

Not long after, Edith also bore a child—a lively baby boy they named Walter.

Their cries filled the manor, and soon the halls that had once been quiet echoed with the voices of new life.

Riley found himself smiling more often these days.

Griffin and Walter became the light of their mothers’ lives, and though they were only infants, Riley would sometimes sit quietly, watching them in their cradles as if imagining the men they would grow to be.

His pride as a father swelled, though he carried it with the same iron composure he wore as a ruler.

Yet fate had another gift waiting for him.

Juliet, too, was with child, and the promise of a third heir stirred in her womb.

When Riley looked at her, his heart grew warm with anticipation.

His children would be the foundation of a legacy that would last beyond the years.

The thought of his bloodline taking root and thriving made his victories on the battlefield feel small in comparison.

But while life within his household blossomed with joy, the lands beyond his walls demanded vigilance.

Under Riley’s reign, prosperity touched every corner of his region.

Fields yielded rich harvests, trade flourished through bustling markets, and order reigned where once there had been discord.

People spoke of his governance with respect, some with awe, and many with fear.

For Riley ruled not only with vision, but with absolute authority.

Problems arose, as they always did—most often in the form of bandits.

These vermin lurked in the shadows of mountains and forests, preying on travelers and peasants, hoping to carve out chaos where Riley had built stability.

But unlike weaker lords who tolerated such infestations, Riley struck with overwhelming force.

One such incident would be remembered for years to come.

A notorious bandit faction had made its den in a mountain range, harassing merchants and caravans that carried goods vital to the region’s prosperity.

Riley’s response was brutal and uncompromising.

He dispatched one hundred thousand warriors, commanding them to scour every inch of the mountain.

For days they hunted, and when the lair was finally unearthed, the slaughter was merciless.

None survived.

The bandits were dragged from their holes and cut down without hesitation.

Their heads, severed cleanly, were mounted on pikes and displayed high atop trees along the mountain paths.

The gruesome sight served its purpose.

News of the massacre spread quickly, and terror gripped those who had once dared to take up the mantle of banditry.

Under Riley’s reign, mercy was a luxury reserved for the innocent.

For those who threatened his people’s peace, there was only death.

And so, the region thrived—not just from Riley’s wisdom, but from the iron edge of his justice.

Within his household, life flourished in laughter and new beginnings, while beyond it, the world trembled at his name.

He was a father and a ruler both, and to Riley, those two roles were inseparably bound.

For everything he built, every decision he made, was for the future of his children, his family, and the empire that would bear his name long after he was gone.

"Ahhhhh... this is life..." Riley stretched his arms lazily as he reclined on the cushioned lounge, the warm rays of the afternoon sun blanketing his skin in comfort.

Around him, the air was sweet with the scent of blooming jasmine and roses from the royal gardens.

Maidservants moved gracefully at his sides, one peeling grapes and placing them gently into his mouth, another fanning him with an embroidered fan, while a third filled his goblet with dark, fragrant wine.

A tray of roasted meats and delicate pastries sat nearby, though Riley barely touched them—indulgence was no longer about need, but luxury.

He let his head rest back and closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the peace.

Yet even in relaxation, his thoughts were sharp, wandering back to his first world.

How ironic, he mused, lips curling into a faint smirk.

There, with Veronica and the rest of his women, his days had been filled with beauty and desire, yet children had never been born.

His wives did not want any children yet. And now, here, in this world... it was different.

Sons had been born. Bloodlines secured.

His name would echo not only in the present, but through future generations.

"Life really is full of surprises," Riley said with a chuckle, opening his eyes to stare at the endless blue above.

But pleasure and ease were only one part of his nature.

His mind shifted, eyes narrowing slightly as the weight of his foresight pressed in.

"It should be near now... five years, more or less," he whispered, his voice dropping low. "That person will come."

The words hung heavy in the air.

His divinations had shown it clearly, time and again.

Five years until the arrival of someone—a figure tied to destiny itself.

A rival? A savior? An enemy cloaked in the skin of a friend?

The signs were vague, but the certainty was absolute.

He lifted his goblet, swirling the wine slowly, the liquid catching the sunlight and glowing like molten ruby.

"Five years... a blink of an eye, and yet long enough for the weak to grow complacent. But me?" He smiled faintly.

"I already have every preparation in place." He sipped deeply, the warmth of the wine spreading through his chest.

"Sometimes, it truly is difficult to be this good at what I do," Riley sighed with mock weariness.

Yet beneath the words, ambition crackled like fire.

He was not merely waiting—he was weaving, pulling invisible strings that would make the board his by the time the fated moment arrived.

Still, five years was not without opportunity. His eyes softened, the cold gleam replaced by something more playful, more intimate.

"Perhaps I should turn my focus toward Veronica and the others," he murmured, already imagining their faces.

"It would be wasteful to let the years slip by without enjoying the women who’ve chosen me."

Plans began to unfold in his mind like a chessboard resetting.

He imagined taking Veronica and the others on journeys across hidden valleys, secluded retreats where he could indulge in them fully, away from the eyes of the court.

Nights of passion so unforgettable that his women would cling to him more tightly than ever.

He imagined expanding his harem further still, finding new beauties whose talents and charms would not only please him, but strengthen his influence across the lands.

Riley stretched his arms again, reaching lazily for another grape.

His gaze swept the gardens, calm yet commanding, as though the entire world bent itself around his comfort.

"Yes... five years will pass quickly enough," he whispered, raising his goblet high.

"And when destiny finally comes knocking, I’ll be ready. More than ready."

He drank deeply, the wine spilling fire into his veins, his lips curving into a smile that was both indulgent and dangerous.

Sunlight bathed him, the garden hummed with life, and Riley—warrior, ruler, schemer, lover—sat at the center of it all, already dreaming of the storm to come.

***

Five years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.

Seasons came and went, kingdoms rose and fell around him, yet within Riley’s world, life was rich, full, and steady.

His household expanded not only in wealth but in warmth, for Juliet had given birth to a daughter—a radiant child with curious eyes and a laugh that could soften even Riley’s hardest moods.

She was named Tia, and from the moment she first wrapped her tiny fingers around his hand, Riley knew his heart had been conquered in a way no battlefield or conquest had ever managed.

Fatherhood suited him.

He pampered his children without restraint, showering them with affection and spoiling them with gifts. Griffin and Walter, his sons from Aurora and Edith, grew into sturdy young boys who already tried to emulate their father’s confidence and swagger, while little Tia became the jewel of his household, adored not only by Riley but also by her older brothers, who treated her as if she were a princess descended from heaven itself.

At first, managing three powerful women under one roof had been its own kind of battlefield.

Aurora, Edith, and Juliet each carried pride and passion, and for a time Riley had feared their rivalry would drain his energy.

Yet time, patience, and his own careful hand smoothed things over.

The three women grew accustomed to sharing him, eventually forging bonds with one another.

They learned to laugh together, to raise their children side by side, and even to tease Riley as a united front.

He would often watch them from a distance—Aurora’s grace, Edith’s softness, Juliet’s sharp wit—and marvel at the harmony that had formed where once he feared discord.