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Published at 19th of February 2024 06:13:49 AM


Chapter 103: Formatting

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Chapter 103: Formatting

Iaaaan!

Thud thud!

Whether from the delight of being introduced as the mother of her son, Philea charged down the stairs and threw her arms around Ian. Fiercely, and very warmly.

Have you been well?

Ian. I missed you so much.

It mustve been hard in this cold weather.

Ian smiled patting her back. No matter how nice mountain living was, it couldnt have been easy for a woman alone out therebattling loneliness amid the silence in the days and fear of beasts howling in the nights.

Youve had it hard, Ian. Im very proud of you.

What did I do to deserve that?

Beric told me everything. About helping people with Grula, not only in Bratz but Merellof too.

Mother. There is no one here by the name Bratz.

At Ians words, Phileas smile grew even brighter. As if that was very nice to hear. Whether from the tears, her eyes shone exceptionally bright. With golden hair, she had an aura like the moon incarnate in the night sky.

Im realizing once again what trash Dergha was.

Just what did that bastard do to a woman like her? Ian beamed holding Phileas hand.

Mother. I could only help people with the Grula because you had gathered them for me in the mountains ahead of time.

What? She was the one who collected them?

Romandro cut in, surprised.

Youve accomplished great things, my lady.

M-my lady? Please talk casually.

How could I? Though Sir Ian was granted his title, I was interacting informally considering the circumstances. But I cant do so to you, my lady. Let me introduce myself again. I am Romandro, imperial advisor.

Though flustered by Romandros polite greeting, Philea seemed happy as she chuckled. She smiled blissfully as she continuously patted Ians back.

Ah. Ive no lingering attachments now even if I die. Ian.

Dont say that. Please come live in the annex from now on. The mountain is cold and dangerous, isnt it? Even if Im not here, Sir Romandros men and the estate servants will take good care

He said youd be leaving in a few days?

Phileas smile held subtle sorrow.

It was a bit disappointing. Seemed like Ian had distanced himself after she was taken by Count Dergha.

But it cant be helped. Its my faultfor failing to protect my child from the Earl.

Stroking Ians hair, Philea engraved every detail of her sons face into her memory.

Come back safely. Ill always wait here for you.

Please take care. I beg you.

Alright. If the going gets tough, return to your mother anytime. I swear Ill protect you then.

Ian couldnt promise he would come back. Philea embraced her son once more before carefully asking,

Just for today, would you spend the evening with me? Theres so much I want to talk about. Its been a while since we ate together.

Having just finished a feast at Merellof, Ian readily nodded.

Of course, mother.

Shall I make you barley porridge?

His favorite food as a childbarley porridge. Philea gently caressed the back of Ians hand with a sorrowful smile.

Please do. Let me change myself first, Ill be right back. Hannah, please get my mother anything she needs.

Yes! My lady, you remember me right?

Of course, you relayed Ians words to me.

Heehee! Ill be in your care from now on!

Shooting stars? Seeming to read Ians mind, Nersarn promptly added.

Different from shooting stars. They didnt fall in a blink but moved slowly.

Having not seen it himself, Ian couldnt grasp what astronomical phenomenon Nersarn described. But hearing it from one raised gazing upon the Milky Way across the desert, it was surely out of the ordinary.

Be careful going central. As stars brighten this world, Sir Ian does too.

I appreciate the counsel. However Sir Nersarn.

Ian etched his words in mind and slyly rejoined.

I aspire to be the sun, not a star.

Emperor Ianthe paramount of Bariel. He demonstrated the will to regain that body. Looking somewhat surprised, Nersarn moistened his lips then faintly smiled.

Then to the desert, Sir Ian will be a very important figure.

Swish.

As if not expecting a response, he went right upstairs with the warriors. Watching Nersarns back, Philea whispered carefully.

Who was that?

Chief Kakantirs younger brother and scribe, Sir Nersarn. Hell be helping manage the territory affairs while Im away. He wants to return to the desert yet theres no one quite like him.

Understanding, Philea looked upstairs again. Then grinning, she gently grasped Ians arm.

Ian. Instead of changing, lets head to the kitchen together. As the porridge cooks, sit and tell me whats been happening lately.

Seeming unwilling to waste a second, Philea took Ians overcoat to hand to Hana before heading to the kitchen. The head chef had tidied up expecting them.

Use these bowls and pots. What else do you need besides the barley?

Ah, there. Salt.

Seasonings are in the bottom cupboard over there.

Ian sat at the servants break table watching Philea. Though she seemed clumsy at first, she began cooking the porridge more adeptly.

Was it lonely in the forest? Now that Derghas gone and the territory prosperous, come live down here. You could stay in the mansion if you want or I could get you a house.

Let me think on it a bit. I didnt feel that lonely out there butmeeting people like this, maybe it was.

The savory aroma of the barley porridge wafted up. Philea elegantly stirred the pot, smiling.

Sometimes lost travelers come by. Shockingly a while ago, some injured people appeared together.

Injured people?

Mm. About three of them? They told me their names Lets see. Ricardo, Nave, andErica!

Thats rightErica. The imperial investigator searching for Mary and Chels corpses. Her whereabouts were unknown after getting caught up fighting the Hawan caravan. How unexpected.

Badly hurt?

No, but she said she lost many comrades. Poor things. They were having a hard time, unable to return home.

Where were they headed next?

Hmm, not sure but I think she said Hawan?

I see.

Stroking his chin, Ian let out a meaningful chuckle. Philea beamed, stroking her sons hair.

Doesnt the porridge smell nice?

It does, mother.

Ian, by the waywould it be alright if I wrote you letters? On sleepless nights sick with worry, it might soothe me some.

Philea hesitantly sought his understanding, extremely careful not to impose one bit. Ian readily granted permission.

Please do. But I may be too busy to reply so please understand that.

Of course. Ian, my son

Philea embraced Ian again, nestling her face against his shoulder. Ian patted his fidgeting mothers back.

Just come back safelyIan.




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