"You're truly smart, my lady," Laine said with a smile, holding his wife's slender hand. "Soon, I'll be the largest landowner in Musillon, and you'll be the lady of the land; Devenhill will be the small landowner."
"Who wants to be a lady of the land for you? That's such a terrible title!" Surya blushed, and she suddenly bowed her head, murmuring to herself, "I once thought I'd be a Countess or Duchess someday but didn't expect..."
"Isn't this great?" Laine gently placed Surya's small hand on top of his, earnestly saying, "You deserve the best in the world, my lady."
"Laine..." In the cold days of February, Surya gazed at her husband with deep affection, her face flushed with pink.
Until Uncle Grape snorted.
Uncle Grape neighed, lifted his hoof, and pointed, indicating to them to go inside, wondering why they were standing at the door. "We're waiting for you!"
