Chapter 93

Listening to the rustling grass, Blanc looked around.

The vivid red and yellow landscape was enveloped by the clear blue of the autumn sky, forming a work of art all by itself.

Shifting his gaze from the distant horizon to the nearby ground, he saw a shepherd leaning against a rock jutting up from the earth and leisurely chewing on a stalk of rye.

Beside him, the sheep bleated as they busily munched on the few remaining patches of green grass.

Closer still was Vieta.

Vieta lay beside Blanc with her eyes closed, supporting her head with one hand. To anyone else, she looked no different from a rough, boyish farmhand, but to Blanc, she was more lovable than anything else in the world.

‘Her hair has grown so long.’

Perhaps because they were no longer in the capital, she no longer thought she needed to conceal her identity; the layers of green and platinum-blond hair had already grown past her collarbones and fallen to around her chest.

After he had gazed at Vieta for some time, his heart aching more with every passing moment, her large pink eyes opened.

“What were you doing?”...