Enya bit her lower lip lightly and said, “It’s… it’s because I was hurt by bad people—that’s why this happened!”
After speaking, she turned her head away.
Vivienne drew in a sharp breath at those words and couldn’t recover for a long time.
Her slightly parted lips stayed open for quite a while.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t imagine a woman being harmed and then getting pregnant.
It was just that the woman in front of her—there was no way she could be her Enya.
The Enya in Vivienne’s heart was proud, pure, and beautiful.
A Ninth-Tier Sword Saint, a pinnacle among mortals.
How could someone like that be this woman standing here?
Hurt by someone… and even had a child?
Impossible.
Haha.
Absolutely impossible.
Once Vivienne processed everything, she packed away all her emotions.
She no longer revealed anything outwardly.
Her voice turned distant and cool.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful.”
“Uh, it’s fine…”
Right after saying those words, Enya’s lips went numb.
She regretted saying it in front of Vivienne—but it was the truth.
She pursed her lips and asked in a low voice:
“…Do you think I should let her be born into this world?”
“The child didn’t commit the mistake. If you’re willing… I have some connections with the local lord. If you have no income, you can go to her and ask for a job. Just say Vivienne sent you.”
Vivienne gave the answer without hesitation.
Since this woman—Phil Clorcy—was clearly not the one she was looking for, she lost all interest in continuing the conversation.
A maid stepped down from the carriage and placed a string of jewelry into Enya’s hands, then climbed back up, and the carriage drove away, gradually disappearing from sight.
Inside the carriage, Vivienne rubbed her forehead.
She wondered: if one day Enya came back, and she was pregnant like that woman…
Would she be able to accept it?
The more she thought about it, the more absurd the idea seemed—until she chuckled at herself.
How could that ever happen…?
Lifting a corner of the curtain, her gaze drifted into the distance, toward the woman named Phil Clorcy.
But if it did happen—would she still be willing?
So long as Enya could stay by her side.
Back on the street, Enya bit her lip again and looked away.
She lowered her gaze, past the now fuller curves of her chest, down to the round arc of her belly—pushed out by the dragon egg inside.
With a bitter smile, she muttered to herself:
“If we miss this chance… will we still get to meet again?”
This meeting had always been separated by the barrier of a “lie.”
It was the first time Enya had shown herself to Vivienne as a complete stranger.
Suppressing the sorrow in her heart, Enya gave a faint smile and whispered a farewell.
“Goodbye…”
This was also her farewell to her past self.
She had already decided to hatch the dragon egg—and was fully prepared to raise the little one.
…
In the inner district of Redpine City, inside the lord’s castle, a tall red-haired woman was focused on reviewing documents.
Some important guests had arrived that morning, and entertaining them took more time than expected—so she was now behind on her day’s work and trying to catch up.
She had just raised a fine ceramic teacup to her lips with a hand that was noticeably larger and more rugged than most women’s—her fingers longer and thicker—when a knock came at the door.
She frowned slightly and set the cup down.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and a soldier in armor stepped across the threshold but didn’t enter fully.
Standing respectfully at the doorway, he addressed the red-haired woman:
“My Lady Lord.”
Henna rose from her seat and walked toward the door.
Her figure was striking, and her features carried a kind of commanding, heroic air—very different from the usual gentle and refined image of noblewomen.
She looked more like a sharp and composed female knight.
Henna asked, “What is it?”
The messenger knight glanced up, then quickly lowered his head and answered respectfully:
“My Lady, there’s a… pregnant woman outside! She says she wants to present you with a map, but insists you must come in person before she’ll open it…”
“….”
Henna arrived at the reception room’s doorway, and the moment she stepped inside, her eyes landed on a striking flash of silver—her heart skipped a beat and she froze on the spot.
If Enya hadn’t walked toward her, she might have remained frozen there.
“You’re the lord of this place?”
Enya stepped up to her, pretending to be naive and unaware.
Henna came back to her senses and gave a slight nod.
After taking a closer look at the woman before her, she let out a quiet sigh of relief, realizing she had mistaken her for someone else.
Composing herself with the dignity befitting a lord, Henna said:
“Yes, I’m the lord here. You said you wish to present me with a map?”
As she spoke, she walked into the room and sat down in a chair, her gaze falling on the tightly clenched scroll of paper in Enya’s hand.
The message was clear: she wanted Enya to explain what kind of map it was.
But Enya didn’t follow her expectations.
She walked over, took a seat just across the small table from Henna, and said:
“I need a promise from you, my Lady. If you agree, then I’ll give you this map.”
“….”
Henna looked closely at this beautiful silver-haired woman.
Her gaze was bold, even intense—it was clear what part of Enya she was focusing on.
She spent the most time looking at the area pushed forward by the dragon egg in Enya’s belly.
Henna couldn’t help but feel a measure of admiration for this silver-haired woman’s courage.
Ordinarily, commoners would kneel before her.
Soldiers wouldn’t dare breathe heavily in her presence.
Even those arrogant nobles would become stiff and nervous when they met her.
And yet this woman dared to look her directly in the eye—and even negotiate terms with her.
What gave her the right?
A mere map?
Henna narrowed her eyes and looked into Enya’s golden eyes—but unconsciously looked away, as if some unknown force was guiding her to glance instead at the silver hair cascading over Enya’s shoulder.
She took a small step back and said to Enya:
“Tell me what kind of promise you want.”
At that, Enya’s lips curved into a faint smile.
“I hope you can grant me Redpine City citizenship. And if possible, a quiet home would be perfect.”
“Household registration… and a place to live?”
Henna’s gaze drifted from Enya to the teacup on the table.
After a brief moment of thought, she reached out and turned the porcelain cup so that the handle aligned with a white flower painted on the saucer.
Then she looked back at Enya with a calm expression and said:
“If that map has enough value, I’ll give you what you’re asking for.”
“Of course.”
Enya nodded slightly.
In her view, exchanging this map for a legal identity and a home was an incredibly worthwhile deal—for this city lord sitting before her.
Tftc!
Ugh will the two of them never meet again?