When Aiven awoke again, he found himself back in the luxurious bedroom at White Swan Castle.
Behind the violet silk curtains, the dawn had yet to rise on the horizon, with only a patch of mottled stars faintly visible in the night.
The spontaneous cross-boundary trip didn't place any burden on him, a "divine creature."
"Hmm..."
Beside him, a cascade of jet-black hair spread across the white pillow, cradling the sleeping beauty, Miss Olivia, in his arms.
Aiven couldn't help but smile; in his eyes, his wife's beauty was not the least inferior to that of a goddess.
Studying the girl's extraordinarily beautiful sleeping face, Aiven's heart, initially agitated by the celestial trip and the goddess's promise, gradually calmed down.
But his gaze became increasingly resolute:
'Oh, goddess, although indeed you are magnanimous, the foundation of this duchy wasn't hard to leave behind, just for this woman, I couldn't possibly be a deserter!'
