Chapter 26 Chapter 9 Morning

"Tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk. Hello? Say, is anyone home? Me—Emin's teeth and toenails! Boy!" Simkin gasped, leaning back against the wall, pressing his chest. "Mosiah!" "Sinkin!" cried another young man, as surprised as his companion. The two turned the corner of the hallway at the same time and almost bumped into a pile. "Ah, damn it!" Xin Jin was dressed in bright green satin from head to toe, pulled out the never-changing orange silk scarf from mid-air, and wiped his forehead with trembling hands. "You almost scared my trousers off, my dear boy, I was almost like the Duke of Shellburg. Dressing like a Duke is just a little joke for the Marquis, and everyone can see that the black robe he wears is not True. But that lord is a nervous man. He's been arrested by a wizard and lost his magic, so ah—his trousers slipped all the way down to his feet, showing everything. It caused quite a stir in the palace, but I think it's really a fuss over such a trivial matter. My condolences to the Duchess..."

"I scared you!" Mosiah cried when he could speak. "What do you think you are doing, just bursting out of mid-air? Where have you been?" "Oh, here and there, here and there, all around," said Simkin cheerfully, looking casually into Lord Samuels' drawing-room. "I said, where are the others? Especially the gloomy lover. Are you still hanging around the lady, or have you found some fun in her and lost your interest?" "Shut up!" Mosiah shouted angrily.He looked left and right for a while, grabbed Simkin by the arm and dragged him into the study. "You idiot! How dare you say that? We've had enough trouble!" He slammed the door shut.

"Really?" Xin Jin looked warm-hearted. "Must be interesting. I'm terrified of the boring life. What did we do? Didn't we get caught in disgrace? Put your hand up her skirt?" "Shut up!" Mosiah exclaimed in horror. "Under her corset?" "Listen to me! Lord Samuels claimed Joram couldn't prove his identity and nearly threw him out the door last night, but Saryon had a seizure or something and they had to call Zelda pull--" "Catalyst Saint? Attack? What's the matter with that old man?" Simkin asked dryly, pouring himself some Lord Samuels brandy. "Ah, still homebrew," he muttered, frowning. "He should have had better wine. Don't see why he didn't get some? I guess we should be more lenient, though." He drained his glass. "He's not dead, is he?"

"No!" Mosiah growled.He grabbed Simkin by the arm and snatched the bottle away. "No, he's all right. But he has to rest. Lord Samuels says we can stay, but only until the Emperor's banquet tomorrow night." "Then what?" Simkin yawned. "Will Joram be a big mouse when twelve o'clock strikes?" "He's going to meet someone there, someone like Zeldalla, who she saw him as a baby and who can confirm that he's Anya's son." Simkin looked confused. "I said, that sounds ridiculous, and Joram has only changed a little bit since then, can she even recognize it? I mean, what can we do to make this old lady think about it? Wrap up that sweet kid and tuck it in a bearskin rug? I think we can—oh, sorry. On my mother's grave, I'll never tell that story." He blushed. "Where did I go? Oh, yes, babies. This is my experience, you know, all babies look alike. Exactly like the Emperor's wife."

"What?" Mosiah paced up and down the room anxiously, listening half-heartedly. "All babies look like the emperor's mother." Sim Jin nodded deeply. "It's big and round, with a head that can't stand up, swollen cheeks, squinted eyes, and that dazed expression—" "Oh, can't you be serious?" said Mosiah angrily. "Joran's been wounded since he was born. You know it, you've seen it. Those little white marks on his chest." "I didn't know I'd ever been that interested in his boobs," Simkin said. "Except for the fact that there's no chest hair at all. But I said, it's all grown on his head."

"People in our village talked about those wounds." Mosiah mused, ignoring Simkin's nonsense. "I remember old Mrs. Hespeth saying it was a curse, the tooth marks Anya sucked blood on him. I never heard him explain how he got those wounds. Of course, it's not something you can ask Joram after all. Maybe I'm afraid to ask." Mosiah laughed nervously. "Maybe I'm afraid he'll tell me..." "Then now the curse has become a blessing, like the story of the family mage." A smile appeared on Simkin's lips.He ran a finger through his mustache. "Our frog is going to be a prince..."

"Not a prince." Mosiah corrected angrily. "It's the Baron." "Sorry, dear boy," Simkin said. "Forget that you grew up in the wilderness of the country, a total bumpkin. Hey." Seeing that Mosiah was about to lose his temper again, he hurriedly continued: "I'll come back and take you out with me. Happy in the Merlin Sacred Grove below It's very lively. The entertainers are rehearsing the show they plan to show to His Majesty Boring tomorrow night. It's really interesting. If you are dissatisfied with the performance, you can throw things at them. It will start at any time. It's almost noon. Where is Joram? "

"He's not going," said Mosiah. "Lord Samuels told him he could never see Gwendolin again until it was settled. But Samuels went to the Guild, and Joram wanted to see her anyway. He finished his breakfast into the garden. Saryon is too weak to go anywhere." "Then it's just you and me, dear boy." Simkin patted Mosiah on the back. "I bet you've been bored in this place for days, haven't you?" "Yes..." Mosiah looked out the window longingly. "Relax! There is no need to worry about being caught. You are with me." Xin Jin said briskly. "I have the emperor's umbrella. No one dares to touch me. Besides, there are too many people. We can disappear in the crowd."

"Ha!" Mosiah snorted, unceremoniously looking at Xin Jin's gorgeous bright green clothes. "I'll see how you disappear..." "What? Don't you like this body?" Xin Jin seemed to have been stabbed. "I call it a bright green grape. You're right, though. It's kind of a show. I'm telling you. You come with me, and I'll replace it. Here." He waved his hand. "How about this one? I call it...let me see...rotten red plums. Now I'm as stupid as you. I said, buddy, let's go." Sim Jin yawned again, and wrapped his silk scarf Dip your nose. "I don't know how long I've been in the palace. It's almost boring. You know, the Earl of Montbon has become like this. When the emperor told some stories. Most of us fell asleep But when I awoke I found the count scattered all over the hall... Anyway, I know quite a few dukes and counts here! I long for a normal social life."

"I'd love to give you a normal wrestling life!" Mosiah muttered, moving his hands.Simkin was now walking up and down studying the books on Lord Samuels' shelf. "What did you say, dear?" Simkin asked, turning sideways. "I'm thinking about it," said Mosiah. The young man longed in his heart to see the sacred grove of Merlin, which was said to be one of Simharon's attractions.Strolling through the fabled beautiful gardens, plus the chance to view the illusionist's exquisite artwork, was a dream come true for the serf mage.But he knew that Saryon didn't want him to go out, and the Catalyst Saint had said over and over how important it was to stay indoors all the time.

We've been here for almost two weeks.Mosiah thought.Nothing happened.The Catalyst Saint had good intentions, but he was too worried!I will be very careful.Plus, Simkin was right.Although this is a bit strange, he does have the emperor's protection... "I said." Sim Jin said suddenly. "Wouldn't it be fun to turn the mind-blowing tome of The Varieties of Household Magic into some other, more interesting title? Like, Centaur Binding Techniques..." "No, no!" cried Mosiah, determined. "Come on, go out, lest you ruin the sliver of reputation that we can still stay here." Mosiah firmly grabbed Xin Jin's ugly plum-colored sleeves and pulled him out of the door. Xin Jin honestly let himself be dragged away, glanced back at the bookshelf, recited a word silently, and blinked.The orange silk scarf flew over, wrapped the "Various Varieties of Household Magic", and then disappeared, leaving another brown leather-bound book in place. "Full details, illustrated in color," Simkin said to himself, grinning happily.
Joram had gone out for a walk in the garden that morning, hoping to meet Gwendelyn, and she had just gone out for a walk, hoping to find him.But when he came to her, he saw her sitting listlessly among the rose bushes, accompanied by Mary.He bowed coldly again, then turned around and planned to walk away. He couldn't speak to her.What if she wouldn't talk to him?What if she didn't love him as a person, but the title he might have in the future? "What if I can't be a baron?" Joram asked himself.The sudden realization that his plans, hopes, and dreams could all come to an end nearly knocked him over the gravel. "Why didn't I think of this last night? How could she fall in love with a guy who doesn't know who he is!" "Joran, please... wait a moment... "I know what Dad said, Mary." Gwen answered Mary with sadness and pain in her firm voice, which made Joram's heart palpitate. "I respect his wishes, I just want to—" Her voice trembled. "Want to ask about Father Dunstable. I suppose you are as concerned about the saint's health," she said reproachfully. When Qiao Lang heard the voice approaching, he turned slightly.Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gwen's figure.He saw the dark circles that the sleepless night had left on those blue eyes.He saw the tears that all the magic and all the rosewater of Simharlan could not remove from that pale little face.She had cried for losing him.His heart was beating so fast he wouldn't be surprised to see it burst out of his chest and land at her feet. "Joram, please wait a moment longer. Is Father Dunstable feeling better this morning?" A soft hand was placed on his arm, and Joram looked into those blue eyes—these eyes were full of love, full of sadness, and he had to try his best not to hold her in his arms, Don't hold her tight, don't use your body to protect her from the hurt he caused.For a moment, his heart was so full that he couldn't speak.He could only look at her, eyes hot enough to melt steel. But what could they say to each other?Mary stared at them sternly, disapproving of their meeting.As soon as I'm done answering the questions about the Catalyst Saints, Mary will tell her to go back to the house.If Gwen won't go, then... the family mage is calling for Mary, maybe Lord Samuels... Qiao Lang looked at Ge Wen, and Ge Wen looked at him. Did Emin hear the prayers of the two lovers? Apparently it was, because at this moment there was a scream from inside the house. "Mary!" screamed a family mage. "Come on!" Another family mage ran into the garden looking for the Catalyst Saint.Master Samuels turned into a bird and flew into the aviary.He was currently being pursued by an angry peahen, who felt that he had harassed her nest and was clearly a serious threat to her life.The catalyst saints must rush to deal with it! Mary is in a dilemma.The little boy might be in danger of being pecked, but she was a wise woman, and knew that the most beloved lady was in graver danger in the garden.Another scream, this one louder, like that of Master Samuels.no solution anymore.Mary asked Gwendelyn to follow her immediately—she also knew that this order was as impossible as asking the sun to leave the sky—the Catalyst Saints hurried away with their servants to rescue Master Samuels, And comfort and punish him. "I... can only... stay...for a little while longer." Ge Wen said.Faced with his intense gaze, and remembering that she had not obeyed her father's order, she blushed, and she tried to remove his hand from Joram's arm, but Joran held her back. "Father Dunstable was well rested this morning," he said. "Please, don't do this," Gwen said, confused by the sensations his touch aroused in her.She gently pulled her hand away and hid it behind her back. "Papa won't... that. I shouldn't... What do you say about that nice priest?" she asked finally, embarrassed. "Zeldalar said it was a... er... mild seizure," Joram went on, suddenly eager to say something himself. "Constriction of the blood vessels, the blood can't get to the brain or something. I don't know what that means, but it must be bad, and it will paralyze him. She said Father Dunstable's own magical powers can completely heal Such a hurt. I—I thank Mary for her help." Joram said the last sentence gruffly, not yet used to thanking others. "Before she leaves. If you want to go into the house, please..." He bowed again to walk away, but the soft little hand held him again. "I—I pray to Emin that he will recover." Gwen spoke in such a low voice that Joram had to move closer to hear him.Ge Wen took her hand away inadvertently, and Qiao Lang quickly grabbed her hand. "Is that all you prayed for?" he asked softly, brushing his lips against her blonde hair. Even though it was light, Gwendelyn felt his touch.She was suddenly keenly aware of his presence from head to toe, and his approach made her hair tingle.Ge Wen raised her head and found that she was unexpectedly very close to Qiao Lang.That strange pleasure and pain stirred in her heart.As he took her hand, the feeling grew stronger and more terrifying.She could feel him intensely, in his flesh and blood.The lips that touched her hair were slightly parted, as if feeling thirsty.His strong arms slid around her waist, dragging her into the enigmatic darkness, making her heart stop with fear and throb with intense excitement. Ge Wen tried to break free vigilantly, but he hugged her tightly. "Please, let me go." She begged weakly, looking away, afraid to look at him, afraid to let him see the frank emotion in her eyes. He hugged her even tighter.Blood gushed all over her body, her heart was hot, but she kept shivering.She felt his warmth surround her; his strength comforted her and frightened her at the same time.She looked up at him, wanting him to let go... However, those words failed to come out.Words had come to his lips, but his lips had pressed against them, and they were swallowed, lost in a sweet pain. Maybe Emin didn't hear the couple's prayers after all.If he had heard it, he would have left them forever in each other's arms in the fragrant garden.But Master Samuels' screams stopped, and there was a slam on the door. Gwen blushed and hurriedly broke away from Joram's embrace. "I—I have to go," she yelled, stumbling back into the house in a panic. "Wait, one more word!" Qiao Lang followed behind her and said hastily. "If... if... something happens, does it matter to you, Gwendelyn, that I don't get that inheritance?" She looks at him.The shy panic, the childish ignorance, all melted away when she saw the eager longing in his eyes.Her love poured out, filling the void in his eyes, like the magical power of the world pouring through the catalyst saint to the mage. "No! Oh, no!" she cried, holding out her hand to take him. "A week ago, I might have answered differently. Even yesterday morning would have been different. As of yesterday, I was a girl playing the romantic game. But last night, when I thought I might lose you , I understand that these things don't matter. Dad said I was young and I would forget you like everyone else. He was wrong. Whatever happens, Joram," she said sincerely, moving closer to him. "You are in my heart and will always remain in my heart." Joram hung his head, unable to say anything.This sincerity is too precious, so precious that he is afraid of losing it.If he loses this feeling, he will definitely die.But...he had to tell her.He had sworn to Saryon, he had sworn to himself. "I need you, Gwendelyn." His voice was rough, and he gently avoided her embrace, but still held her hand. "Your love is everything to me! More than life..." He paused, clearing his throat. "But you don't know everything about my past," he said eagerly. "Those don't matter!" Gwen said. "Wait!" Gritting his teeth, Joram said, "Listen to me. I have to tell you. You must understand. You know, I am a..." "Gwendelin! Go back to the house immediately!" There was a rustle of honeysuckle bushes, and then Mary appeared.The Catalyst saint glanced at the blushing, disheveled young lady, then at the pale, passionate young man, whose usually cheerful and friendly face turned pale with anger.As soon as Qiao Lang saw her, he let go of Ge Wen's hand, but he couldn't say those words.Mary grabbed Gwendelin and took her away, yelling at her angrily all the way. "But you won't tell Dad, will you, Mary?" Joram heard Gwen say, her voice wafting towards him with the fragrance of lilacs. "After all, you ran away and left me behind. I don't want Dad to be mad at you..." Qiao Lang stood there and watched the two of them go away, not knowing whether to curse or thank Emin for her timely intervention.