In another location within the City Lord Manor, moonlight poured across a garden like flowing silver silk, illuminating every curved stone path. Petals drifted across the garden from the flowering trees and even fell on a quiet post resting at the center. Its waters were still enough to mirror the stars above.
Gentle mist hovered above its surface while luminous and rich wisps in the form of koi fish swam around.
At this moment, a black-hooded person approached the pond in silence from the shadows.
The hood covered the body, and the veil hid the face, but not even darkness could conceal the mature bosoms this person possessed.
It was a woman. Her long black hair flowed down her back like a river of ink, occasionally stirred by the cool night breeze. Her eyes carried exhaustion and melancholy that seemed far too heavy for someone who held the title of City Lord Kain's first wife.
Her fingers clenched slightly around the piece of paper she had received earlier.
It was from her lover.
"Belmont…"
She softly whispered, wondering if some trouble had arisen from the earlier meeting with the fourth wife today. She knew she shouldn't have come out here since it wasn't good to be seen out in the open with the Steward, but this could be an emergency, so she felt like she didn't have a choice.
"…" Suddenly, she felt alert.
Soft footsteps echoed through the garden.
She turned lightly, her expression tightening before she relaxed in surprise.
Saint Riyal Mendez walked down the stone path with a smile on his face, dressed in flowing blue-white robes that shimmered beneath the moonlight. His long hair was tied loosely behind him, while a jade fan rested in his hand.
He appeared startled upon seeing her.
"Madam?"
His brows rose slightly before he laughed gently.
"What a coincidence. I was merely taking a walk to appreciate the scenery. I never thought I would encounter such beauty beside this pond tonight."
The black-robed woman lowered her gaze.
"You flatter me, Saint."
"I merely speak honestly."
Saint Riyal Mendez approached the pond leisurely before standing beside her. His eyes reflected the moonlit waters while his voice became softer.
"This garden is beautiful, but strangely lonely."
The black-robed woman's fingers trembled faintly.
"Yes… It is."
Far away within the shadows of a pavilion rooftop, two figures silently watched everything unfold.
City Lord's expression was dark and unreadable.
Beside him, Steward Belmont clenched his fists behind his back while trying to suppress the strange mix of jealousy and bitterness inside his chest.
What the heck was going on?
Shouldn't the one who should appear here be the fourth lady and not his lover, the first lady!?
"What's going on? Why is the first lady here?" City Lord asked, his throat hoarse.
"This… I don't know. Something must've gone wrong, as this isn't the instruction I gave to the maids. I'll go intrude onto the scene and break them up." Steward Belmont turned around to leave, but City Lord Davis harrumphed.
"Hmph! It doesn't matter. Let's see if the Saint is honest about his words!"
"But-"
"Don't anger me now, Belmont. My patience is... extremely limited at the moment...!"
The City Lord's expression was livid, causing Steward to tremble before he shut his mouth.
Below, Saint Riyal Mendez sighed lightly.
"When I first saw Madam during the banquet pouring wine for me, I could already sense sorrow hidden within your eyes."
The black-robed woman smiled bitterly, "Can sorrow truly be seen so easily?"
"For others, perhaps not."
Saint Riyal Mendez turned to her slowly, "But hearts that have suffered recognize one another."
Her breathing halted for a moment at that profound statement since these words pierced directly into the loneliness she had buried for years.
"I…" She hesitated before softly speaking, "I once believed my husband understood me."
Saint Riyal Mendez listened quietly, not interrupting
"But my Lord only understands authority, reputation, and cultivation. Even when he looks at me, it feels as though he is merely observing another possession within his estate. Even recently, he has started giving me, giving us the cold shoulder and wandering off to do vile- strange things."
A faint sadness appeared on Saint Riyal Mendez's face upon hearing that. His gaze shifted to the skies before he appeared elusive.
"A scrap armor has its difficulties protecting a warrior, but still manages to protect some vital spots nevertheless, but a beautiful flower watered daily within enclosed golden walls still withers without sunlight."
The black-robed woman stared at him blankly.
She felt like no one had ever spoken to her this way before.
She slowly lowered herself onto the stone bench near the pond while moonlight painted her elegant features with pale silver radiance.
Saint Riyal Mendez sat beside her.