CHAPTER 76: FREQUENTLY

When I felt a faint stirring in my left arm, I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was the sunlight filtering through the window. Then, curious about what was gripping my arm, I turned to my side and found Annabel clutching me tightly, pulling my arm close against her.

She was completely naked, her breasts pressed against my shoulder, but what unsettled me more was the way she had placed my hand between her thighs. Her fingers clung unconsciously to my arm, as if even in her sleep she refused to let me go.

My gaze drifted to her face. Behind her closed eyelids lay the traces of a peaceful dream. A faint, serene smile curved her lips, stirring in me both tranquility and an indescribable pull.

Annabel murmured softly, then shifted in the hazy stupor of sleep, turning her back to me. Her bare shoulders and the graceful curve of her spine glowed in the sunlight.

Yet she didn’t release my arm. Instead, she held it tighter, pressing it against her chest as though seeking comfort. My hand rested on her waist, near her stomach, while she nestled closer, sleeping as if my presence was the only thing that could grant her peace.

The sweet fragrance of her hair filled my senses, and before I realized it, my eyes were closing again. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though this closeness could last forever.

But when she pulled my arm tighter, the bone twisted at an awkward angle, making me wince involuntarily. Her warm skin against mine brought me calm, but the tender captivity was on the verge of turning into pain.

"Annabel..."

My voice so low it would vanish into the depths of her sleep. Perhaps I could gently free myself without waking her. Yet her fingers refused to let go of my wrist, gripping even tighter, as though frightened of something in her dreams.

A strange thought passed through me: ’Are you really so afraid of losing me?’

I was torn. I wanted relief from the ache in my arm, but I didn’t want to break the innocence of her embrace. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Despite the discomfort, I chose to endure a little longer, unwilling to surrender the quiet peace within me.

Annabel’s lashes trembled, then her eyes slowly fluttered open. At first, her gaze wandered in dazed confusion, until at last it found me. The moment our eyes met, a soft blush spread across her cheeks.

Startled, she quickly loosened her hold, trying in embarrassment to turn her face away. Her flustered reaction was so endearing that I couldn’t help but smile. Reaching up, I cupped her cheeks gently between my hands, savoring the softness of her skin.

"I won’t let you run away."

Her eyes widened, lips parting slightly. A small sound of protest escaped her, and she shifted as if to break free. But before she could, I leaned forward, released her face, and brushed my lips against her cheek.

She froze at the warm kiss, her breath caught. The blush on her cheeks deepened, spreading to her ears as she hugged her chest and tried to hide her face. Yet the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed the joy she felt.

She bit her lip, turning her face away, hiding behind her hair. Her cheeks still burned like fire.

"Um..." she murmured in a voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking softly might lessen her embarrassment. "The sun... it rose so early today, didn’t it?"

Her words were so absurdly unrelated that I almost laughed. I could still feel the warmth of her cheek, but her flustered attempt at distraction left an impression as deep as the sweetness of the kiss itself.

"Yes," I said, deliberately provoking her, "but I think the genuine light in this room isn’t the sun."

Her eyes widened, her lips opening and closing without words. The blush spread all the way to her ears as she ducked her head, wrinkling the edge of the blanket in her hands as though searching for a place to hide.

"I-I..." she stammered, her voice trembling so faintly it was nearly inaudible.

At last, I took pity on her. Relenting, I reached for my clothes, covering my bare body. Yet Annabel’s eyes lingered on me. She bit her lip as if trying to avert her gaze, but her eyes betrayed her, drawn to me again and again. That innocent admiration, mixed with the bashful blush on her face, left a warm ache in my chest.

I was about to lean closer, to draw nearer to her enticing form, when three knocks sounded at the door. Then came a familiar voice:

"Mother? Are you awake?"

Lucareth’s voice.

Annabel’s eyes flew wide, her body jolting as though she’d woken from a dream. Realizing her nakedness, she hurriedly covered her chest with her arms, scrambling from the bed to gather her fallen clothes. Her cheeks flushed scarlet partly from shame, partly from our intimacy being so abruptly broken.

I leaned back against the pillows, watching her flustered panic with an amused smile. Lucareth’s impatient voice called again:

"Mother? Aren’t you going to open?"

With trembling hands, Annabel pulled her dress on and cast me a quick glance, her eyes filled with both panic and an unspoken warmth.

"Don’t say a word..." she whispered urgently.

I just smiled and gave a small nod.

She fastened her dress, hastily smoothed her hair, and walked toward the door. But before opening it, she drew a deep breath, as if steadying herself, willing away the blush from her cheeks. Then she cracked the door open.

Lucareth stood outside. Though he looked freshly woken, his eyes were strikingly clear. Barely five or six years old, yet his gaze carried a maturity rare even among adults.

"Mother..." he began, then his eyes shifted past her into the room. When he saw me, he froze. His brows lifted slightly, a glint of curiosity sparking in his gaze.

"Father?" he asked hesitantly, pressing his small lips together. "Are you... here?"

For a moment, Annabel seemed at a loss. She adjusted her collar, averting her gaze as if to hide the flush still lingering on her cheeks.

"Lucareth..." she breathed. "Your father was only—"

But she broke off as Lucareth turned his sharp eyes on me. For a few seconds, he studied me in silence, weighing unspoken questions.

"I’ve never seen you in Mother’s room before," he said quietly, but with remarkable clarity.

Annabel’s face flamed red, and she shot me a panicked glance. The boy’s words were innocent, yet beneath them lay surprising intelligence.

I sat calmly on the edge of the bed, choosing to remain in the background, a faint smile tugging at my lips. Pride swelled in me at my son’s perceptiveness, though it made the moment all the more delicate.

Annabel rushed to smooth over the situation. Tilting her head, she brushed her hair back and forced a gentle smile.

"Lucareth, come now. Breakfast is ready. Afterward you can play in the garden," she said quickly, her voice light but tinged with urgency.

Lucareth raised his brows, curiosity undimmed. "But Mother... Father..."

I remained silent for a moment longer, then spoke in a light, suggestive tone:

"Don’t worry, Lucareth. I’m here today... and I’ll be coming more often from now on."

His eyes widened slightly. Though he couldn’t fully grasp my meaning, he sensed my seriousness beneath the playful tone. Unexpectedly, he smiled, then reached for his mother’s hand, letting her guide him away.

Perhaps he was simply happy at the thought of his mother being happier, sensing that I would no longer cast her aside.

Annabel’s cheeks reddened once more, caught between the fluster of managing her son and the embarrassment of my words. She quickly took Lucareth’s hand and hurried him down the corridor, as though fixing everything in that moment had become her only aim.

As Annabel hurriedly pulled Lucareth away down the corridor, the door slowly closed, leaving me alone in the room. For a moment, silence fell; sunlight still streamed inside, carrying with it the warmth and urgency of what had just transpired.

---

When I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, piles of scrolls greeted me and sealed parchments stacked across the long table. Reports from the newly conquered lands. The victory won on the battlefield now had to be cemented with ink and reason.

I sat down and unrolled the first scroll. Maps, census lists of villages, demands from the feudal lords, and complaints from the people... all had already been sent to me. As my eyes traced the lines, a thoughtful curve settled on my lips.

"My lord," Willabelle said in a quiet yet clear voice. She leaned forward and handed me a new scroll. "The taxation reports. These are the first records collected from the villages and towns of the new territories."

I lifted my gaze, letting it linger on her delicate face. Her posture was as straight as ever, her eyes bearing a cold seriousness. She spoke less like a servant and more like a state official.

I opened the scroll. Most of the peasants had suffered from the war; production had fallen. To collect taxes at the old rates would doom those who could no longer till their fields. My brow furrowed.

"If we continue with the old rates, within three years these villages will starve. We will cut the tax in half. The treasury will cover the remainder for now."

Willabelle nodded and swiftly wrote it down. Then she broke the seal on a second scroll and spread it before me.

"The nobles have requests concerning investments. In particular, they ask for funds to establish new road networks and build grain depots."

I glanced at the map. Roads linking the mountains to the plains were indeed lacking. Militarily, it was a critical weakness.

"The roads will be built. As for the grain depots, focus first on strategic locations. Until each village becomes self-sufficient, it will rely on these depots."

Willabelle’s pen moved quickly. At that moment, I caught the faintest curve of her lips. She showed such an expression only rarely. Perhaps the only sign that, in her eyes, my decisions were sound.

Then, in silence, she handed me another document.

"Complaints from the people..." she said, her voice a little softer this time.

I skimmed through it. Plundered homes, burned fields, missing family members... the inevitable cost of conquest bled through the lines like ink made of blood. For a moment, I closed the parchment and drew in a deep breath.

"Everyone who has lost their home will be given new land. Those whose fields have been burned will receive support for collective production. As for those who have gone missing, we will find them alive. If they are dead, their families will be compensated. People have seen how ruthless I am towards my enemies, and now they will see how generous I am towards my people."

Willabelle lowered her head. Behind her cold expression, I glimpsed a fleeting, almost imperceptible spark in her eyes.

"As you command, my lord."