The mist swirled around, with the rich aroma of tea wafting through the air.
Perhaps the awkward silence from their earlier lack of rapport lingered, as both Roland and Sif remained silent, quietly sipping their tea.
Under the late autumn sunset, the warm red tea not only dispelled the chill of autumn but also gradually eased the awkwardness.
The maid poured the tea and, seeing Sif wave her hand, inquired whether Roland needed anything. After receiving his reply, she bowed and left.
The well-trained maid, graceful and poised, was the complete opposite of the demonic puppet maid at Alina's residence.
Sipping lightly from his teacup, Sif's heartbeat gradually calmed as she softly spoke:
"Roland, there's a painting on the wall behind you; how do you find it?"
This was clearly an attempt to break the ice, and Roland knew Sif was trying to ease the atmosphere, so he turned as instructed, his gaze falling upon the painting.
With just one glance, Roland was stunned. The girl in the painting was beautiful, but that wasn't the main point; the key was that the girl in the painting bore at least an 80-90% resemblance to the elf he had encountered in his dreams.
Though lacking features like the pointed, delicate long ears of the Elf Race, the girl's milk-like smooth skin and the serene, elegant forest aura were remarkably similar.
Her face was almost identical to that of the elf maiden's.
If such a girl existed in reality, she would definitely be a beauty capable of sparking wars between two nations, a femme fatale of her era.
"This young lady's beauty is indescribable, fortunately, she's just a figure in a painting."
"What do you mean?" Sif raised an eyebrow, softly asking.
"If there were such a beautiful girl in reality, she would certainly be a calamity for all living things."
Sif murmured leisurely, "A calamity for all? Your choice of words is as vivid as ever. You're right, without enough power, being too pretty isn't a good thing."
After a moment of contemplation, she slowly said, "Turn around."
Roland obediently turned around.
Then he saw the girl from the painting sitting across from him.
The world lost its color.
All the hues and light converged upon Sif's face.
Roland's heart skipped a beat.
He nearly stood up to ask if the elf in his dream was her.
But he held back.
Upon closer examination, the features had their own unique beauty, and the aura was completely different.
Compared to the naive purity of the elf maiden, Sif's clear eyes held a subtle, heart-wrenching melancholy undetectable to most.
It wasn't the trivial sadness of a love-stricken girl sighing over fallen petals, but the sorrow of confronting a thorny, insurmountable problem.
She had her own burdens.
Roland was almost ready to declare himself in love, but his mind remained clear.
Men are often attracted to the beauty of eighteen-year-old girls.
But a wise man wouldn't simply marry based on appearance.
The swirling tea mist drifted right in front of him, blurring the exquisite face within the fog.
The mist, moved by a gentle breeze, looked like a flowing river.
Charlo, who admired the Count's Daughter, still lingered beneath the Tamas River, keeping company with the fish every day.
Wake up.
The mist in front of him was just a thick curtain.
The elf from his dream walked into the painting, then floated into reality from the painting.
But it was all false.
The real world remained in shades of black, white, and gray, with Sif's brilliance stinging his eyes. But he quickly regained his composure, even feeling a slight sense of loss.
After all, this world was not perfect.
People are often harsh on those scoring ninety-nine points for not obtaining full marks, and Roland's disappointment was the same.
His gaze upon seeing her true appearance did not seem peculiar to Sif.
She often wore a mask or veil, not out of arrogance, but simply out of inconvenience.
Yet, Roland's subsequent change in gaze slightly surprised her.
The expression on Roland's face was neither greedy nor shocked, nor was it humbled with inferiority, but simply one of disappointment.
Disappointment?
The temperature of Sif's cheeks rose rapidly.
Am I really so disappointing in appearance?
How incredibly rude!
She didn't wish for Roland to be enchanted by her beauty, staring at her with lustful eyes. However, that didn't mean she accepted him finding her not beautiful enough.
Despite her displeasure, Sif managed her emotions well, softly saying:
"Roland, I don't have many friends; besides... Her Majesty the Empress, it's you. Teacher Wald taught me that when associating with friends, one should be sincere. Hence, I am revealing my true appearance."
"Everyone has secrets; some things you will come to know in time but not now."
Roland's gaze pricked Sif's pride.
But she acknowledged Roland.
A man who isn't swayed by beauty is either questioning his sexuality or possesses extreme self-discipline.
Roland was evidently the latter.
She decided to accept Teacher Mary's suggestion, cultivating Roland as part of her foundation.
She doesn't have much capital to win over young talents.
Then let's just be sincere.
"Tell me, what's so urgent that it requires a handwritten letter sent to the Imperial Palace to find me."
She blew the floating leaves and continued to adjust her mood with a tea-drinking motion.
"I sold the essay contest's championship."
Roland knew Sif was very busy, so he explained the situation in the concise style of the essay.
"Pfft!"
The tea sprayed all over the table, Sif's face flushed, losing all gracefulness.
She had seen the world.
She had experienced her father's passing, what scene hadn't she encountered?
But still, Roland left her speechless.
Even if Roland had written a love poem on the spot to express affection, she wouldn't be surprised, although absurd, it would at least make sense.
However, what Roland did now was entirely illogical.
"How much did you sell it for?"
Sif bit her lip, her voice was soft, yet the coldness filled the room.
"Fifteen hundred pounds." Roland was very honest.
Sif slowly put down her teacup, the corner of her lips trembling slightly, "This is the championship I won for you from Her Majesty the Empress!"
"Without me, you would've been hanged at Monarch Square."
Of course, Roland wouldn't say that without Sif, he would have already left with Lisa.
But he couldn't say that, and since he wouldn't say, he had to defer to Sif's statement.
Sif's slender fingers pressed her temples, trying to calm herself.
She almost failed, but fortunately remembered Teacher Wald's teachings.
"Even the most heinous criminals have the right to defense."
The teacher was right, at least let Roland finish speaking.
Sif took a deep breath, her soft voice disappearing, replaced by iciness.
"You may argue."
Roland breathed a sigh of relief, Sif's response far exceeded his expectations.
Teacher Mary had hinted to him that he would be introduced to a very powerful Imperial Family young lady.
Roland thought for a moment and understood.
It was definitely not the Empress, but Sif.
Compared to the unfamiliar, quick-to-anger Empress, Sif was somewhat closer.
Serving with the Emperor is like walking with a tiger, the Empress is too dangerous.
At least he and Sif were friends.
Being friends, as long as there's mutual fondness, fine, but working for Sif requires consideration of whether this leader is worth following.
Sif was evaluating Roland, and Roland was observing her too.
To Roland, Sif scored very high.
He also understood that his initial score in Sif's mind had dropped to zero, he needed to earn points now.
Roland took a sip of tea, organized his thoughts, and truthfully recounted the entire process of being threatened and bought off by Byron at the publishing house.
During his narration, Roland also presented his own analysis process.
As he spoke, Sif's expression gradually relaxed, then became particularly grave again.
"Roland, it's unnecessary, this is too dangerous."
Roland recalled the past, and said leisurely, "My father was very skilled in combat, under his stick teaching, my combat skills easily handle gang thugs."
"But they are in the shadows."
Sif said a bit anxiously, "I can let the Military Intelligence Bureau..."
Her words abruptly stopped halfway.
By the time the Military Intelligence Bureau figured out who the mastermind was, Roland would either have already solved the problem or been solved by it.
Sussex Empire ranks first in comprehensive national strength worldwide, except the Military Intelligence Bureau is inept.
This is consensus.
What's more embarrassing is that she couldn't even command those incompetents.
Sif suddenly felt a wave of sadness.
If someone can't even manage useless people, isn't that more pathetic?
Watching the light gradually fade from Sif's eyes, Roland could guess what she was thinking.
He unexpectedly felt a bit of heartache and blurted out:
"Miss Sif, we're friends, if you have any difficulties I'll do my utmost to help!"
He merely felt sorry for a friend, nothing more.
But saying it out loud felt strange however he thought about it.
Fortunately, Sif didn't overthink, she just gazed at Roland.
Just as Roland felt a little uneasy inside, Sif softly said, "I don't have much trouble, but I have a close friend in the Sussex Empire who is the Empress, she's facing many difficulties, can you help me... help me come up with some solutions for her?"