Night came as the sun rested behind the trees.

They’d found a cave for themselves after evening came and the first day, surprisingly, only had a single encounter. Whether that was a good thing or a bad one, he did not know but from the expressions of the Steel Fang, he knew that it was a bad one.

They were being paid for a job and that was pest control. As dangerous as it may be, it still qualified for that. And they wouldn’t get paid until they reached their quota, which was a hundred of them.

After they’d done that, the military could take it from there.

The lazy bastards never did anything unless it was easy or a danger to the Empire, and cases of the latter almost never happened.

“I was too rash earlier,” said Emma slowly.

Adrian, as always, was too busy to focus on her. While the Qi from the Aural Beast had seeped fully into his bone, he needed to absorb more Qi from nature and focus it around his wounds so that they’d heal faster.

The pain came back moments after the rush of Qi Rush ended, and he was left with two annoyingly painful injuries that had to be taken care of as fast as possible, especially if he needed to fight constantly.

“Are you listening?” asked Emma.

“Apologize to her, not me,” said Adrian as his eyes opened.

The Qi within the cave was cold, and that was a refreshing change from the hot, burning pain from the Qi in the Beaumont Estate. While their extremes hurt essentially the same, this wasn’t that. It wasn’t contained within his bones and he hadn’t focused enough to be painful.

One could say that it felt like a piece of ice was held onto his flesh.

“That wasn’t an apology,” said Emma and raised an eyebrow, “It was a reflection on my past actions. I probably won’t do it again.”

Probably?

Adrian rubbed his forehead.

Were all of the Nobles crazy in at least one way?

“You didn’t have to cut it off,” said Adrian and looked at everyone else. They’d pushed the corpses out of the path and dragged one of the wolves along for dinner, and they were cooking it.

Nobles didn’t need to participate in such activities, nor those who couldn’t cook, so most of them happened to be resting. The cave was spacious enough for the remaining twenty to fit with a fair amount of space from each other, and it was lit with six torches strategically placed around the room, standing upright on stands made for them.

“There’s a saying among us. Rebellion must be cut off at the root with urgency and the utmost care,” said Emma and looked at him, “Even if it’s a child that doesn’t know better or a Cultivator that doesn’t know her place.”

She would have had no qualms about cutting off his hand if he wasn’t engaged to her, wouldn’t she?

After all, he, too, was a commoner.

“It’s only a hand,” she said.

“It’s a hand,” countered Adrian, “You can use it to hold weapons, or write, or eat.”

“She still has one left,” said Emma.

“Then what happens after she angers another noble and has her other hand cut off?” asked Adrian, eyes narrow.

“So others can do it but I can’t?” asked Emma and Adrian quieted down.

He was getting too heated.

“That kiss. Why’d you do it?” asked Adrian, turning his attention away from Diana’s case.

“We’re engaged, aren’t we? That means it’s acceptable,” said Emma and let out a short chuckle. Then she leaned in close, “I had to make it look like I didn’t say anything, so I made it look like a kiss. Wouldn’t want my husband to be known as a coward that never goes against his wife.”

He grumbled.

“Will you stop moping or will I do more eye-catching things?” she asked.

“I’m not,” said Adrian, biting his lips.

“You are,” she countered.

“I’m cultivating. What you see is my neutral expression,” said Adrian and closed his eyes.

“I’ve seen the other one enough. You have that cute scowl. This one isn’t cute,” said Emma and grabbed both of his cheeks with her thumb and index finger on each hand then pulled them apart.

His cheeks were almost rubbery.

“Don’t do that,” said Adrian.

He didn’t even bother to fight back. He just told her to. It was a waste of effort to do any more than that.

“You should really start smiling,” said Emma after a few seconds of fiddling with his face.

“I do, every now and then,” said Adrian.

“No, you smirk and scoff. You never smile,” said Emma and let go of his cheeks. Instead, she used her index and middle finger to push up the sides of his lips.

“Did I miss something? You’re acting weird,” said Adrian and once again opened his eyes. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her, “You’re never like this.”

“You haven’t seen me with the twins enough. I do it all the time,” she said and rolled her eyes before pulling away: annoyed.

Staring at her until she backed off was a tactic he was practicing.

“I’m just bored,” she finally said and looked around at the others, “All the nobles are away. There’s only a bunch of minor nobles left behind and… you. You’re better than these peasants. You’re the Starbringer’s son and a first-generation.”

The aroma of the wolf’s flesh being roasted over an open fire stirred Adrian’s senses. It smelled delicious, which couldn’t be said for many dishes. Especially when he could eat anything he desired whenever he wished to.

It was magical, just like the herbs and flowers at the Beaumont Estate being more aromatic than normal ones.

“So what?” asked Adrian, genuinely curious, “Is prodding me your idea of entertainment?”

“No, but prodding you and making you talk to me is,” said Emma and shrugged, “Yes, you’ve been tricked into starting a conversation with me.”

“You could’ve asked,” he said.

“I could have, but you mightn’t have answered,” she said.

“I would have. I always do,” he said.

“But I don’t know that. Neither of us knows anything about each other. You have this… shell that hides you. You never come out of it, never giving me a window to take a peek at what makes you tick. I caught a glimpse of it today so I showed you a bit of me as well,” said Emma and rested her head on his shoulder.

He was already used to the constant pressure of a heavy head lying on his shoulder.

“You can always ask,” said Adrian and hurriedly added, “But only a few questions at a time. It’d be overwhelming if you did too many. ”

“Well then, what’s your favorite color?” she asked.

Color…

“We should start from the small things, don’t you think?” asked Emma.

“Yellow, I suppose,” said Adrian, and because of her expectant stares, he added, “Because it’s the color of gold. I like it.”

“Time and time again, you prove yourself the son of a merchant,” she said.

“I am one,” he said.

That’s when the first round of the wolf’s meat made its rounds, pulled away from the flames. It wasn’t seasoned with anything but it looked delicious all the same. But he suppressed his urge to go and grab one.

He had to wait toward the end.

There was enough for everyone and everyone would get at least one large piece that was larger than the size of their bellies, and thus, there was no rush.

“Then what about your injury from eight months ago?” asked Emma.

Adrian’s expression froze.

“It was nothing,” he said, his tone monotone.

“But I heard you were on the verge of death before you got your gift,” said Emma and looked at him, her eyes almost ready to pierce holes through his head, “Who did it?”

“It’s none of your business,” hissed Adrian as his fists clenched themselves all by themselves and his breathing became faster.

“But it is. You’ll be my husband. Any act of offense toward you must be avenged,” Emma whispered into his ear, “Do you want me to kill that boy? It’d be simple. Or have him tortured? That could be arranged.”

“As I said,” growled Adrian and then proceeded with a softer tone, “He’s just a pawn. I’m going straight for the king.”

Emma clicked her tongue and sat back.

“Then tell me who the king is. I could arrange for his arrest and a lifetime of pain and misery if he isn’t a Cultivator or a Noble,” she said.

“I won't let you,” said Adrian.

“Why not?” asked Emma.

“Because I must do it with my own hands. I won’t be satisfied with any less,” said Adrian and he hopped to his feet.

“You’re worse than me, then,” she whispered, “Don’t you think you’re being a hypocrite?”

“I only go as far as necessary. And that guy warrants going all the way to the end, and that’s not a matter of satisfaction. It’s because he’s dangerous,” he said, “Diana didn’t warrant such heavy-handed measures. You’d won after you landed your first strike.”

“You’re never letting it go, are you?” she asked.

“I already have. But I’ll remember it,” said Adrian.