The morning sunlight drifted lazily through the tall windows of the dining hall, bathing the wooden table in a warm, golden glow.
Nova sat comfortably at one end, fork in one hand, tea in the other, steadily working through his breakfast like a man without a care in the world. A plate of toast, eggs, and sliced fruit sat half-finished in front of him.
Across from him, Celise was already halfway through her tea, hair tied up loosely, looking every bit the elegant noblewoman — until she groaned and muttered, "You really summoned three clones last night? Three?"
Nova didn't even blink. "Was that a complaint or a compliment?"
"My back says complaint," she said, rubbing her lower waist with one hand, "but I still feel like I'm being ravaged."
Nova smiled proudly. "You were. Thoroughly."
She narrowed her eyes, trying to look annoyed — but her flushed cheeks betrayed her. "Even then," she murmured, "you were the one who kept going on about rounds."
"And you were the one yelling for more."
Celise opened her mouth for a comeback, but right then—
BANG!
The door slammed open like it had been kicked, and Kael came flying into the room.
"I'm not late!"
His tiny three-year-old legs carried him straight to the bench beside Nova, hair wild, face bright with mischief. He practically leapt into his seat, already reaching for the nearest slice of toast.
Celise sighed. "Kael—walk. One day you're going to break that door off its hinges."
"I'm fast," he said proudly, taking a giant bite. "Faster than knights!"
Nova gave him a nod. "Knight-level entry. Impressive."
Then came the softest creak of the door.
Mira, Kael's twin sister, stepped inside without a word — small and quiet, clutching her worn rabbit doll to her chest. Her gaze flickered toward Nova for half a second before she hurried over to Celise's side and climbed up carefully onto the bench, keeping her head low.
"Morning, sweetheart," Celise said gently, brushing Mira's hair back.
"…Morning," came the tiny reply, almost inaudible.
Nova slid a plate toward her. "I saved you the good toast."
She peeked at it, then at him, eyes wide. "…Thank you."
Kael, now chewing with his mouth open, pointed a finger. "Hey! Why does she get the 'good' toast?"
Celise shot him a look. "Because she walks like a person, not a runaway cart."
Kael pouted. "But I'm a hero!"
"You're a headache," she muttered, wiping syrup off his sleeve.
Nova leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the chaos. "I don't know, I think the little knight has a point."
"You're not helping."
"I never claimed to."
Mira nibbled quietly at her toast while Kael loudly narrated a made-up battle between jam warriors and syrup knights. Crumbs flew. Fingers got sticky. Celise looked like she was rethinking all her life choices.
Nova stole one of Kael's crusts and tossed it into his own mouth. "Balance has been restored."
Kael gasped. "That was my wall!"
Mira giggled softly behind her bunny.
Nova grinned. "There. Best sound of the morning."
Celise sighed again — then softly smiled at the sight of Nova interacting with her twins. After her husband had died, leaving her with two three‑year‑old children and a mountain of debt, she had nearly broken. More than once, she had stared at the edge of her own despair and contemplated ending it all. But every time she looked at Kael and Mira's faces, she couldn't do it.
In the end, with nothing left and no one to turn to, she had decided to sell her body — for money, for survival, for her children. But who would've thought that decision would change her life?
She remembered the night it all shifted — standing beneath a flickering lamppost in a border town, soaked in cold rain, working up the nerve to enter a brothel for the first time. And then he appeared. A stranger in the dark. Calm, confident, far too observant. He'd asked her to spend the night with him. Since he was good-looking and didn't leer like the others, she had hesitated… but accepted.
That night, he had ravaged her with a hunger she'd never imagined. Her late husband was the only man she'd known, and she'd thought five inches was normal — until Nova's nine stretched her so deep, it felt like her body might tear. The pain was sharp, almost like her first time — she even briefly wondered if her hymen had somehow grown back. But then came the pleasure, fierce and consuming, drowning her guilt towards her husband and leaving only pain, pleasure and determination towards her twins.
The morning after had changed everything. Over a quiet breakfast, she got to know that he was the last heir of a fallen noble house. And while he stared at her breasts like the lustful bastard he was, she had sold him her skills. Her mind. Her efficiency. And he had accepted. She really suspect that he only accepted her because her of tits and body. Lustful bastard.
A sharp knock at the door pulled her out of memory.
"Enter," Celise said, voice steady.
The door creaked open and a young maid stepped inside, back straight, hands clasped around a sealed envelope. She bowed deeply, eyes down.
"My lord Ashbourne," she said respectfully, addressing Nova without looking up, "a messenger arrived at the gate a few minutes ago. He was from the Royal Court and said this letter must reach you urgently."
Nova raised an eyebrow at the mention of the court.
The maid stepped forward and extended the letter toward Celise, who took the letter and ordered," You may go."
The maid bowed again, silent, then quickly retreated from the room, shutting the door behind her.
Celise looked at the wax seal and immediately recognized it as the official crest of the Royal Court. Without hesitation, she tore it open, unfolded the parchment inside, and began reading aloud:
"To Lord Nova Ashbourne,
By formal decree of the Royal Court, and under the collective protest of the noble houses of Thorne, Alderay, Velnir, and Lorin.—
You are hereby challenged to a series of single combat duels, to be held tomorrow in the evening, at the Royal Mausoleum, after the magic knight exams.
You will face four noble champions, one from each house, in succession.
Should you lose even a single duel, your claim to the Princess's hand in marriage will be considered null and revoked.
Attendance is mandatory. Refusal to appear will be treated as forfeiture.
—The Royal Court."
---
Celise lowered the letter, brows slightly furrowed.
Nova, still finishing his tea, tilted his head. "Now that's interesting. It seems that since four-leaf clover grimoires haven't appeared in the kingdom for a long, long time, these nobles have forgotten the overwhelming power of their holders."
Noticing the subtle tension in her face, Nova raised an eyebrow. "You've never seen me fight, right?"
Celise looked up at him, eyes conflicted. She paused, then nodded slowly. "No. I haven't."
Nova set his cup down with a quiet clink. "Then let me tell you, except for a few individuals, nobody could fight me head-on in this kingdom. It doesn't matter even if the rest gang up on me—I could still wipe the floor with them easily."
Before Celise could react, the air thickened—mana surged like a rising tide. Her breath hitched. The pressure was suffocating, the space itself trembling for a split second. Yet the children didn't notice, still giggling over pieces of buttered toast. And just as quickly as it came, the mana vanished.
Celise exhaled shakily, clutching her tea for stability. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she reminded herself—if Nova was this calm, this confident… then maybe fear had no place here.
"It's good then," she said softly, "but at least hear the information about your opponents. The noble houses of Thorne, Alderay, Velnir, and Lorin are among the highest-ranking in the kingdom. In fact, their ancestors helped establish the Clover Kingdom alongside the royal family. Because of this, they hold a very special status—even today, they're the only four houses allowed to form their own armies."
She paused, watching his expression carefully.
"For centuries, royal sons and daughters married into those four houses. But none of them… ever became royal families themselves. Do you know why?"
Nova shook his head, silently intrigued.
Celise leaned back, gaze distant as if reciting scripture passed down in whispers.
"Because the royal bloodline is defined by one thing—Light Magic. Since the days of the First Wizard King, Lemiel Silvamillion Clover, Light Magic has been the divine proof of the chosen heir. Lemiel didn't just lead the Clover Kingdom to its birth—he scorched devils from the skies, brought peace where there was only ruin. His Light Magic became a sacred inheritance."
She exhaled slowly and continued,
"So whoever was born with Light Magic was destined to inherit the throne. Since the days of the First Wizard King, this rule became tradition, etched into both law and faith. For reasons still unknown, only a single heir with Light Magic would emerge in each generation—a living beacon of legitimacy to the crown.
But there were two rare and fateful exceptions in history—two generations where two heirs were born with Light Magic."
"The first time, both were male. What should have been a blessing turned into a curse. A brutal succession war erupted between them, splitting the royal court and plunging the kingdom into years of quiet unrest. In the end, the younger brother was defeated, and he established his own house—the royal House of Silva."
"A few generations later, it happened again. This time, a male and a female both inherited Light. The male became king, while the female married a general—and together, they founded House Vermillion."
She met his gaze, her tone now a quiet weight.
"And now, in this generation, there are again two heirs with Light Magic. The male heir is already the King, leaving the princess, who was a decade younger than him. The five great houses were eager to marry the princess, hoping that their union would finally elevate them into royalty. But then you appeared—an outsider with no noble history, no bloodline ties. And you shattered their ambitions."
------
CHAPTER:- [126 - PRINCESS SARPHINA] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON