Chapitre 42: Chapter 42
Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and she shot him a sharp glare, though the effect was dampened by the way her lips twitched, betraying her amusement.
"You're insufferable," she muttered, her voice wavering between annoyance and something softer.
"Maybe," he said, the teasing smirk still playing on his lips. "But I'm your insufferable husband now."
She opened her mouth to retort but stopped, caught off guard when he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her veil, the gesture surprisingly tender. Her breath hitched, and she turned her gaze away, unsure how to respond.
"Admit it," he said, his voice a mix of warmth and playfulness. "You don't hate the sound of it, do you?"
Nyra huffed, crossing her arms in a feigned attempt to regain her composure. "You're lucky I don't stab you for saying things like that."
"Lucky, huh?" He chuckled, letting his hand linger at her waist for a moment longer before stepping back. "Well, I'll take that as a yes."
Nyra shook her head, but the faintest smile tugged at her lips as she adjusted the veil covering her face. "Idiot…" she muttered, though her tone lacked any real bite.
He smirked, satisfied with her flustered reaction, but his teasing demeanor shifted as he noticed a figure approaching them.
Nyra followed his line of sight.
The woman walking toward them seemed nervous, her steps hesitant as her eyes darted to the ghostly forms of the Misbegotten that lingered nearby. Despite her evident fear.
"Hello…" the woman greeted, her voice soft but clear. She stopped a short distance away, her unease apparent as she glanced warily at the ethereal creatures.
"Ah, Rodrika," he said, his tone softening as he stepped forward. "How are you?"
Rodrika offered a tentative smile, though her hands trembled slightly. "I… I'm well, thanks to you," she replied, her eyes briefly meeting his before flickering back to the Misbegotten.
"If you remember, after meeting you, I went to the Roundtable Hold. I tried to find you there, but… I wasn't able to."
He tilted his head, a small frown forming. "I've never been to the Roundtable Hold. Why would you expect to find me there?"
Rodrika blinked, clearly surprised. "You've never been there? I thought… with your strength and how you carry yourself, surely you'd be among the champions gathered there."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, I prefer to walk my own path. But it's good to see you again, Rodrika. How have things been?"
She hesitated. "It's been… difficult. I've been trying to learn spirit tuning, but it's not easy. I've improved, but…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked down, her uncertainty clear.
He studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Rodrika," he said, his voice steady, "if you're still struggling, why not come with us for a while? You have a talent for spirit tuning, and I'd hate to see it go to waste. You'd be safer traveling together."
Rodrika's eyes widened in surprise. "You'd let me stay here with you?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with disbelief.
He nodded, his tone firm. "Yes. Lands Between is no place for someone alone, but with us, you'll have protection. You've got a rare talent, Rodrika, and it'd be foolish to let it go to waste."
"Thank you… I promise I'll do my best to be useful."
Nyra, standing silently beside him, didn't say a word. Her gaze lingered on Rodrika for a moment before she adjusted the veil over her face and turned away.
She stepped into the shadow of the towering castle walls, her presence almost fading.
"Let's move inside," he said, gesturing for Rodrika to follow. "The entrance isn't safe to linger in. There's still much of this castle to secure."
Once inside the great hall, with the Misbegotten guards patrolling the perimeter under his command, the trio found a moment of calm.
Rodrika marveled at the massive stone architecture, her fingers trailing over the rough-hewn walls.
"This place… it's terrifying." she murmured.
Nyra stood by a high window, gazing out into the distance, her posture stiff. She had remained quiet since his offer to Rodrika, and it hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Nyra," he called gently as he approached her.
She didn't turn immediately, waiting a beat before responding. "What is it?"
"Are you all right?" he asked, his tone low so that Rodrika couldn't overhear.
Nyra finally turned, her expression masked behind her veil. "Why didn't you ask me?"
"Ask you what?"
Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her expression cold. "About her. About letting her stay here with us. You made the decision without even considering my opinion."
He sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Nyra..." He reached out, pulling her closer, his hands resting on her waist.
As he did, Rodrika, who had been watching quietly, felt a flush creep up her neck, her face turning bright red.
"Wait—what are you doing? She's watching," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone