Two months had passed since Vivian was kicked out of his house.

From that night onward, his life no longer belonged to him. He was taken away…no, abducted…by Charlotte.

They traveled far from the Indrath Empire, crossing lands Vivian had never seen.

Charlotte flew without rest, carrying him through the skies until they reached the Reph Kingdom, a small and quiet place on the far eastern edge of the continent of Elora.

It was nothing like the empire. The kingdom was small, forgotten, and peaceful in a strange way.

Charlotte bought a small house in a village where very few people lived.

Those who stayed there survived through farming and raising animals. No one asked questions.

No one cared who they were or where they came from. That suited Charlotte just fine.

The house was modest. One bedroom, a kitchen, and a small hall.

That hall was where Vivian and Charlotte spent most of their time.

The walls were plain, the floor rough, but it kept out the cold and rain.

The yard outside was small too, only a few feet wide, surrounded by low fencing.

On this day, Vivian stood in the yard, holding a simple farming tool.

He slowly tilted the soil, breaking the hard ground bit by bit.

His movements were weak but steady. He wanted to grow vegetables…nothing fancy, just enough for daily meals.

The soil was dry, and his hands were already dirty, but he didn't stop.

The sun hung quietly above him, warm but not harsh.

For a short moment, everything felt slow. No shouting. No pain. Just the sound of soil turning under his hands.

After a while, Vivian stepped back and looked at the tilled soil. A satisfied smile appeared on his face.

"This should do," he muttered softly.

"Tomorrow I will sow the seeds. In a few months, the vegetables will grow."

He smiled to himself. Sweat covered his forehead, but he didn't bother to wipe it away.

He simply stared at the ground, feeling a small sense of peace.

Just then, the sound of footsteps reached his ears.

"Husband."

The gentle voice made Vivian turn around at once. A smile naturally formed on his face.

Charlotte stood there, looking as bright as ever…no, even more beautiful than usual.

She wore the simple clothes of a village woman.

Her hair was tied back with a cloth, and a few wet strands clung to her face, showing that she had just taken a bath.

In her hands was a tray. On it rested a water jug and a tea jug, with steam slowly rising from them.

Vivian walked toward her with a soft smile.

He took the water jug, poured some water over his hands, and washed away the dirt.

After that, Charlotte placed the tray down on the ground.

She gently wiped the water and sweat from his face, her touch careful and warm.

"What are you going to sow?" she asked quietly.

Vivian looked back at the soil, then at her, and answered with the same calm smile still on his face.

"Potatoes," he said. There was a bit of confidence in his voice.

"Potatoes?" Charlotte asked as she bent down and poured tea into two cups. "Don't we already have many?"

Vivian sat on the wooden railing near the house. He looked at the tilled soil again, his eyes filled with quiet expectation.

"We do," he said softly, "but the taste of the potatoes we grow ourselves will be different. It will be better. Twice as good."

"Oh?" Charlotte made a small sound of interest as she handed him a cup of tea. "How long will it take?"

Vivian took the cup and thought for a moment. "I haven't farmed before," he said honestly, then paused. "But… maybe around a hundred days."

"A hundred days?" Charlotte repeated. She took a sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving his face.

This was the first time she had seen him like this in years. Calm. Smiling. At peace.

For the past few years, Vivian had lived as if he was running toward something unseen.

He pushed himself, made harsh choices, and said cruel words, doing everything he could to make his family, and even Charlotte…hate him.

He succeeded with his mother.

His father had been torn between respecting his son's wishes and his own helplessness.

That inner conflict was the reason he stayed silent when Vivian was thrown out of the house.

Edward had been conflicted too, but it was clear he leaned toward his elder brother.

If not for their mother threatening to take her own life, Edward would never have allowed anyone to cast Vivian out.

As for Charlotte, those words Vivian had spoken back then had hurt her deeply.

But she understood why he said those words. That was why she didn't meet him for years.

Instead, she locked herself inside her room in the palace, burying herself in research.

And when her research was finally complete, Charlotte finally came out of isolation.

The first thing she heard was the bad rumors surrounding her former fiancé.

The word former was not a mistake.

While Charlotte had buried herself in research, her father, the emperor, had heard everything about Vivian.

Stories of him drowning himself in alcohol.

Tales of women from the red-light district. His name dragged through mud again and again.

As a father, how could he give his daughter to a man like that?

So the emperor broke off the engagement.

He did it with Charlotte's consent..

or at least, what he believed was her consent.

At the same time, he secretly planned a new match.

He intended to introduce Charlotte to Kafrik Tramplin, the youngest son of House Tramplin.

He even summoned the young man to meet her.

But in this world, if there was anyone who could not be controlled or convinced, it was Charlotte.

And if there was one thing she would never run from, it was her love for Vivian.

So how could the emperor force her to marry another man?

It was impossible.

Charlotte attacked Kafrik Tramplin the moment she realized the truth. She nearly killed him.

Kafrik was no weak man. At just twenty years old, he had reached the Swordmaster stage. He was far stronger than Vivian, whose life was slowly fading away.

But none of that mattered to Charlotte.

Charlotte herself stood at the Ascended stage. Many already considered her the strongest person in the empire.

Still, she stopped herself before delivering the killing blow.

Her father and mother begged her…literally begged her…to spare Kafrik's life.

In the end, she did.

But before leaving the palace, Charlotte turned back and spoke coldly, her voice empty of warmth.

"From today onward," she said, "you are no longer my parents."

And with those words, she walked away from the palace, from the empire, and from everything she once called home.

After leaving the palace, Charlotte flew straight to the Zenithara estate.

She found Vivian outside the city.

The moment her senses reached him, her heart sank.

He was coughing blood, his body shaking as he leaned against the roadside.

He looked worse than a dying man. Thin. Pale. Broken. As if life itself was slowly leaving him.

Charlotte did not hesitate.

She took him away that very moment.

She brought him far from the empire, to the small and quiet Kingdom of Reph.

There, in a simple village, away from politics, hatred, and bloodshed, they got married.

No grand ceremony. No nobles. Just the two of them, bound together in a small kingdom that no one cared about.

And now, in the present, Charlotte sat beside her husband, holding a warm cup of tea.

They talked about farming.

About seeds.

About soil and time.

She listened to him speak, watching his face light up over something as small as potatoes.

And for the first time in a long while, Charlotte felt that maybe..just maybe..this quiet life was what they both needed.

After talking for a while, Vivian finished his tea and stood up.

Charlotte stood as well. She looked at him with a tender gaze.

She knew the truth. She knew they did not have much time.

His body would fail him in a few years, no matter how peaceful this place was.

But even so, during those few years, they could live happily.

'And no matter what,' she thought, 'I won't let anyone take you from me.'

She waved at him gently.

Vivian waved back with a small smile and turned toward the yard again, focusing on the soil as if nothing else in the world mattered.

Charlotte turned around to head inside.

Her smile froze.

The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a sharp and terrifying killing intent.

"Even if the gods want you dead," she muttered, her voice low and cold, "I will kill the gods."

Her killing intent grew heavier, filling the air around her. This was not something born today.

It had been growing for years. That was why she had locked herself away in isolation.

That was why she had prepared, for his death, and for how to change fate itself.

"No one," she continued softly, "not even the creators, will take you away from me."

She walked into the hall. A beautiful pendant appeared in her hand, glowing faintly. She stared at it with firm resolve, her grip tightening.

"No one can take you away from me!!" she said again.

And this time, her words felt like a vow carved into the world itself.

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