They Came Having Made Up Their Minds
In the evening, the transport team members were properly settled in the barracks to rest.
Charlotte, as if returning home, naturally moved back into Karl's castle.
Although the two are not officially engaged, they have long been in love and have secretly pledged their lives to each other. In the eyes of their loved ones, their relationship is no different from that of a married couple.
Charlotte opened the bedroom closet with practiced ease and took out the change of clothes she had left there last time.
Several comfortable linen pajamas and nightgowns; clearly, she may have already considered this place her second home.
Dinner was again held in the small restaurant on the second floor of the castle.
The food was quite plentiful, at least for Carnford: freshly baked wheat bread, a small piece of butter, rich broth, smoked meat and fish, and some boiled turnips and wild vegetables.
However, the atmosphere at the table was somewhat subtle, quite different from the enthusiasm of their reunion in the afternoon.
Charlotte, who had been lively and cheerful in the afternoon, even with a touch of playfulness and cunning, now seemed rather quiet and reserved.
She simply kept her head down, slowly and methodically cutting the food on her plate with her silver knife and fork, her movements elegant yet conveying a sense of absent-minded detachment.
Karl tried to bring up lighter topics, but Charlotte's reactions were always lukewarm.
She would either give a simple "hmm" or "ah" in response, or force a brief smile, her answers as brief as could be, but her gaze would often drift to the dark night sky outside the window, or to the flickering candlelight shadows on the restaurant walls.
It was as if her thoughts had already flown to a distant place, hiding some unspeakable secret.
Karl keenly sensed her unusual behavior, and a cloud of doubt rose in his mind.
He recalled carefully how, that afternoon in the castle, she held the imperial Imperial Edict in her hands, playfully imitating the tone of a court envoy. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with a cunning glint, even carrying a hint of coquetry that stirred his heart.
At that time, she was so vibrant and lively, it seemed she could illuminate the entire room.
Why was she such a different person when she sat down at the dinner table again just a few hours later?
That bright radiance seemed shrouded in a thin veil, becoming serene and detached, even carrying a faint hint of melancholy.
Was she really exhausted from days of traveling? But she didn't seem that way in the afternoon, judging from her energy level.
Or was it that she was alone, thinking about something that was troubling her?
Is it about Carnford's future? About the ambiguous relationship between the two? Or about his father far away in Fran City and the war?
This dinner, which should have been filled with celebration and warmth, quietly ended in this somewhat dull and strange atmosphere.
The orderly quickly and quietly cleared away the barely touched plates and glasses.
Karl suppressed his doubts, thinking that Charlotte probably just needed rest, so he got up and said, "The hot water should be ready. Go take a shower and relax. You're exhausted today too. I'll go wash up quickly as well."
Charlotte gave a soft "hmm," said nothing more, and got up to go to the bathroom.
Karl watched her disappear behind the bathroom door, sighed softly, and then turned and went into the adjacent washroom to wash himself with the cold well water.
After changing into a dry and comfortable linen nightgown, Karl returned to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Karl lay in bed, tossing and turning, his mind in turmoil.
The joy of their reunion in the afternoon was gradually replaced by Charlotte's unusual silence during dinner.
He couldn't fathom why Charlotte seemed so troubled. Was it from the fatigue of her journey, or was there something else going on?
Karl recalled the warmth of sleeping in each other's arms when Charlotte stayed overnight last time, and a sense of anticipation welled up in his heart. But seeing her mood tonight, he thought perhaps he shouldn't disturb her rest.
He sighed, deciding to stop thinking about it, got up and blew out the oil lamp on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness. Only the cool moonlight shone through the window, casting blurry shadows on the floor.
Just as he lay down, preparing to force himself to fall asleep, the door was pushed open very gently.
Karl immediately turned around and looked, his heart inexplicably racing.
The moonlight outlined a slender figure; it was Charlotte.
She wore a silk nightgown, the fabric soft and flowing, perfectly hugging her body's curves, and shimmering with a soft, pearly sheen in the dim moonlight.
Two slender straps draped gently over her smooth shoulders, revealing delicate collarbones and a large expanse of fair skin.
The hem of her skirt swayed gently with her light steps, outlining the graceful curve of her waist.
Her long, golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, exuding a fresh scent after a bath.
This was the first time Karl had ever seen Charlotte like this.
Having shed her usual hard armor or sleek riding attire, and washed away the dust of the battlefield, she now resembled a warm white jade bathed in moonlight, exuding a soft and languid aura, completely different from her dashing and heroic demeanor during the day.
However, within this ultimate gentleness, one can still feel the resilience and agility in her bones. These two qualities are wonderfully integrated, forming a breathtaking beauty that makes it almost impossible for Karl to look away.
Karl felt an irrepressible surge of joy; it seemed tonight wasn't what he had expected.
He quickly got up and nervously went to greet them.
The two stood facing each other in the center of the room, so close that they could feel each other's breath.
The air was filled with the fresh scent of a bath and an indescribable ambiguity.
Charlotte's cheeks were flushed with a faint blush from the hot bath, like a ripe peach. Her azure eyes shone brightly in the cool moonlight, yet seemed to conceal a hint of tension and determination.
Karl's gaze, as if drawn by invisible threads, involuntarily fell upon the delicate neckline of her nightgown.
The silk robe clung smoothly to her curves, its neckline slightly open, revealing a small patch of fair skin that shimmered with a lustrous glow in the moonlight; its delicate texture seemed to possess a warm, alluring quality.
Almost simultaneously, Charlotte keenly caught Karl's fleeting glance.
Karl immediately realized his rudeness, hurriedly turned his head away, and awkwardly looked at the bookshelf next to him, his ears burning uncontrollably.
However, to his surprise, Charlotte did not show any displeasure or embarrassment.
Instead, she chuckled softly, a sound that was particularly clear in the quiet night, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples.
The laughter contained no blame, but rather a subtle, bold allure and a sense of nonchalance.
"Karl, it's alright," her voice was lower and softer than usual, with a languid magnetism, "If you want to see... then go ahead and see."
The implication in the words was almost self-evident.
What made Karl's heart race even faster was that she even reached out, her slender fingers gently hooking the edge of the nightgown's neckline, intentionally or unintentionally pulling it down slowly, revealing more of her beautiful collarbone lines and the soft curves that were faintly visible below.
The moonlight shone on that newly exposed skin, as if coating it with a holy yet incredibly alluring halo.
However, Karl did not look in that direction; instead, he refocused his gaze on her eyes.
In those azure eyes, now filled with complex emotions, he understood.
Perhaps her silence and preoccupation at dinner weren't due to fatigue or unhappiness, but rather a fierce internal struggle and decision-making process?
Perhaps from that moment on, she had already made a certain decision... a decision to completely surrender herself to herself.
Although Karl didn't know what prompted her to make such a decision that night, he could sense the heavy feeling she had, a mixture of love, nervousness, and unwavering resolve.
A surge of immense pity and a sense of responsibility welled up within him, and all his distracting thoughts settled down at that moment.
He no longer felt nervous; instead, he felt a serious desire to cherish her.
He reached out and gently took Charlotte's slightly cool hand in his. His fingertips trembled slightly, but his tone was unusually gentle and firm. "Charlotte... let's go to sleep."
Charlotte looked up at him, the tension in her eyes gradually replaced by a soft dependence. She responded softly, almost like a sigh, "Okay."