By the time William returned to London, it was 7 p.m.—dinnertime. However, as soon as he sat at the table, both Lena and Abigail took turns scolding him for leaving Selene and Nissa on the yacht while he flew back alone.
William, grinning, simply continued cutting his steak, acting as if he didn't hear them. When that hundred-meter yacht, named after Selene and Nissa, finally docked in England, Abigail would no doubt regret defending them tonight.
After complaining for a while, Lena saw that William showed no hint of guilt or remorse and could only glare at him helplessly before changing the subject.
"The Devonshire Family Museum has completed its final inspections. The artifacts stored in the Bank of England's underground vault have been authenticated, transferred, and are now securely placed in the museum's underground treasury. When exactly do you plan on officially opening it?"
"An official opening? That soon?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, you call this soon?" Lena rolled her eyes at William, then glanced at Abigail. "Since Abigail handled everything herself, of course, you don't think the time passed quickly."
William paused, then set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and held Abigail's hand. "Thank you for all your hard work, my dear."
Hearing this, Abigail gripped his hand tightly, and within seconds, her eyes became misty. "It's nothing. I came into your life because of antiques and museums, didn't I?
So, to me, this museum is the very thing that brought us together."
"Hmm," William mused for a moment before suddenly making a decision. "To recognize Miss Chase's contributions to the Devonshire family, I've decided to name the porcelain exhibition hall the Abigail Chase Pavilion.
And to commemorate it, I'll mint ten thousand gold coins featuring Abigail's portrait and the museum's exterior as a tribute to Miss Chase."
"Only ten thousand? I thought you'd be more generous," Lena quipped before Abigail could even respond. "If you really want to show your appreciation, why don't you spend more time with Abby?"
Surprised by his mother's words, William glanced at Lena and saw her wink at him. Without giving Abigail a chance to protest, he immediately said, "Alright, let's make it a hundred thousand."
That night, an overjoyed Abigail clung to William for several intense rounds of "exercise" until she was utterly exhausted and finally fell asleep in his arms.
The next morning at breakfast, William used the museum opening as an excuse to tell Lena and Abby that he needed to return to Oxford Castle to pick out a few top-tier antiques as centerpiece exhibits.
Abigail teased him with a smile. "Need me to come along, darling? Just to make sure you don't end up picking the most expensive ones instead of the most valuable ones?"
Rolling his eyes at her, William responded, "It's late September now. If you two don't have anything pressing, why don't we stay at the castle for a few days? We can even go hunting."
"I'll pass on the hunting," Lena said, glancing at the eager look on Abigail's face. "Why don't you take Abby back for a little getaway? She hasn't had a break in a long time. As for the museum opening, we'll schedule it for the day you two return from your break."
After breakfast, William personally escorted Lena to her car before getting into a convertible Rolls-Royce Phantom with Abigail, who carried only a small handbag.
As they drove out of the estate, a few paparazzi who had been waiting outside eagerly snapped pictures.
Deliberately stopping by the roadside, William pulled out his phone and called several luxury boutiques, asking them to bring their latest collections to the castle.
By the time he hung up, the paparazzi had taken plenty of shots. Satisfied, William finally started driving toward Oxford.
Watching his car leave, a young paparazzo immediately hopped onto his motorcycle, ready to chase after him.
However, a middle-aged colleague grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back. "If you want to lose your job, I won't stop you, but I'm not going to stand by and watch you end up in the hospital. Got it, you idiot?"
The younger man's eyes lit up, but before he could respond, the older paparazzo continued, "Listen up—four other reporters had the same idea before you. Every single one of them ended up in the hospital.
Not only that, but once they got out, they were hounded by MI6 agents from Westminster and had no choice but to change careers."
"Alright, Robert, leave the kid alone," another paparazzo chimed in. "You think William Devonshire, of all people, would stop his car to let us take pictures if he didn't have security watching over him?
This moron actually thinks he can chase him down? He must have a death wish."
After an hour's drive, William and Abigail arrived at Oxford Castle.
Shortly after they settled in, several delivery trucks from high-end fashion brands arrived at the castle.
William greeted the managers briefly before giving Abigail a kiss, leaving her looking puzzled as he grabbed a hunting rifle and had his Sentinel armor shift into a hunter's outfit.
Then, he headed toward the stables.
Over the past few years, the castle's equestrian center had been fully developed. The original herd of over 200 Akhal-Teke horses had now grown to nearly 500.
With Red Hare continuously winning championships, the value of Akhal-Teke horses had skyrocketed worldwide.
However, despite their high worth, maintaining the stables was incredibly costly. If William hadn't been so obsessed with these horses—and if money weren't a non-issue—most billionaires wouldn't have tolerated the nearly £30 million annual upkeep.
Mounting the now seven-year-old Red Hare, William ignored the distressed and worried look from the stable manager, Old Neil. With a light squeeze of his legs, he urged Red Hare forward, galloping out of the stables.
After a ten-minute ride, he reached a 200-meter-high cliff a few kilometers from the castle.
Leading Red Hare up a ten-meter dirt slope, William listened as Sunday reported that the engineering robots had successfully excavated the cliff, constructing a massive roost inside capable of housing over a hundred thunderbirds.
However, the only exit was a meter-wide opening, designed to ensure that all thunderbirds remembered to take the form of golden eagles when leaving.
"How long until the construction is complete?"
"Just a few finishing touches remain, and then it will be fully operational. However, the pixies haven't arrived yet. Additionally, transporting six or seven slaughtered cattle daily without drawing attention is a logistical challenge."
"That's true," William mused, pondering how to solve the food issue when Sunday suggested, *"Sir, you don't actually need to maintain such a large flock of thunderbirds near the castle.
You could leave four of them here and relocate the rest to Planet X-17. Whenever needed, you can simply teleport them over."*
"No." William shook his head. *"The minor inconvenience is nothing compared to the benefits.
The intimidation factor of seventy-six thunderbirds is vastly different from just four. I don't need them for combat—I need them for deterrence.
I want the wizards of England to hear my name and immediately picture a sky filled with thunderbirds and lightning bright enough to illuminate the entire heavens."*
Just imagining the scene brought a smirk to William's face.
By then, the wizards of England would be so terrified that they might treat the very mention of "Devonshire" as a forbidden name.
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