The room was silent, with only the soft crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace.
Louis stood by the bed, looking at the frail girl in front of him.
Her skin was paler than that of the Imperial People, with a cool northern hue.
Her short silver hair was slightly disheveled, her eyes a deep blue with an air of mystery.
Though slender, she had muscle lines hidden beneath her taut skin, like a leopard ready to pounce.
Even in such a predicament, her gaze was neither servile nor overbearing, with an almost imperceptible sense of vigilance.
Louis asked, "What's your name?"
Sif looked at him quietly, not answering.
"Where are you from?"
Still silent.
"Where are you going?"
The firelight reflected on the girl's serene face, as if she hadn't heard him, she remained silent.
Beside her, the kind-hearted aunt sighed and gently patted Sif's hand.
Her tone carried a trace of pity, "Poor child, don't be afraid, we're all good people here. The Lord saved you, he won't harm you."
Yet Sif's mind was racing.
She was well aware that if she fabricated an identity, it could easily be exposed.
And if she tried to avoid the questions, it might arouse suspicion.
The best solution she could think of was to play dumb, answering nothing.
She didn't want to expose her identity, so she tacitly chose silence.
Unexpectedly, the response from the other side was more understanding than she had imagined.
Louis pretended to be deep in thought as he looked at her.
After a moment, as if he had come to some conclusion, he mildly said, "It seems you've lost your memory?"
Sif was slightly taken aback, not expecting Louis to offer such an explanation on his own.
She slightly lowered her gaze, neither confirming nor denying, accepting this assumption by default.
Louis looked at her silver hair and nonchalantly said, "Since you've lost your memory, you might as well stay here for now."
Then, he thought for a moment, a vague smile appearing at the corner of his mouth: "Your hair is white, so let's call you 'Xiaobai' from now on."
In an instant, Sif's pupils contracted slightly, fury rising within her heart.
Xiaobai?!
She was a princess of the Cold Moon Tribe, educated in the ways of royalty from a young age, taught by her father about the noble bloodline, and the future of the clan on her shoulders.
Now she was casually given a pet-like name by a Southern Barbarian?!
Her nails dug deeply into her palms, struggling to contain her anger.
Sif told herself not to reveal emotions, not to let him notice her true identity.
So she remained silent, gritting her teeth, not saying a word.
But in her heart, she had already secretly remembered this Southern Barbarian who insulted her.
"Can you read?" Louis asked casually, as if simply mentioning it.
While trying to control her anger, Sif instinctively nodded.
But almost at the same time, she realized she had made a mistake.
This reaction was too quick, too natural.
In the Cold Moon Tribe, only the nobility had the opportunity to learn the words and language of the Southern people.
Therefore, even though Sif's father was extremely hostile to the southern people, he still hired a southern teacher to teach her language and writing.
Now it had become a potential flaw that could betray her identity.
Sif subtly observed Louis's expression, trying to judge if he had noticed anything.
But Louis seemed unaware of her mistake, thoughtfully nodding, "Then you can be my secretary from now on."
"Secretary?"
Sif didn't react for a moment, as she had never heard this term before.
Louis explained, "It's just to help me jot down some things and handle some trivial matters. Don't worry, it's nothing difficult, and you won't need to do anything dangerous."
Sif lowered her gaze, lost in thought.
A secretary didn't sound like a slave or prisoner, nor like any dangerous occupation.
At least compared to being imprisoned, tortured, or even executed, this arrangement was much better.
Moreover, she seemed to have no better choice.
So Sif gently nodded, which was considered as consenting to this arrangement.
This wasn't submission, but endurance. Sif told herself.
Seeing this, Louis's mouth curled into a slight smile, then he stood up: "You've just woken up, rest well for now, and we'll talk when you've recovered."
After saying that, he didn't say more, striding towards the door.
Sif watched Louis's back as he left, her fingers slightly tightening on the bedding, her eyes complex.
This man hadn't shown any obvious malice, but he couldn't be considered truly benevolent either.
What exactly was he thinking?
For now, she couldn't determine and dared not draw conclusions recklessly.
But one thing she was very clear about, no matter what, her ultimate goal wouldn't change.
Survive, then revenge!
On the other side, Louis walked out of the room, a faint smile on his lips, as if he was in a good mood.
Making Sif a secretary was indeed a good idea.
Louis didn't care about Sif concealing her identity.
He had already understood the basics of Sif's identity through the intelligence system.
Who she was didn't matter, what mattered was she was nothing now.
Even if the time came when he could utilize Sif's identity, he wouldn't need her consent.
As long as Sif was now in his domain, under his control, that was enough.
Louis even found Sif's deliberate concealment somewhat charming.
Like a stray dog picked up, too afraid to bark, constantly wary in her eyes, her tail slightly tucked.
Unwilling to get close, afraid to act rashly, terrified of being slaughtered and eaten if not careful.
As for her ability to write, this was an unexpected delight.
With this, Hillco's workload pressure could be greatly reduced, and he wouldn't have to constantly complain about being buried under paperwork.
Moreover, having a white-haired beautiful girl around would undoubtedly improve one's work mood, right?
In high spirits, he stepped forward, turning to the craftsman workshop to discuss the castle construction with Mike.
The construction in Red Tide Territory was in full swing.
Thanks to the ease of building semi-subterranean communal dwellings and the hard work of the slaves, rows of neat houses sprang up, and the semi-subterranean communal dwellings had already taken shape.
It could be called a miracle in the history of construction in the Northern Territory.
Now knights each had independent rooms, soldiers two to a room, free citizens three to a room, and slaves six to a room, with households even able to apply for independent residences.
Such housing arrangements were a huge boon in the barren northern domains.
At least when winter came, no one would be homeless and freeze to death in the snow.
This was almost unimaginable in other territories, but under Louis's governance, all of this had become a reality.
However, simply accommodating the people wasn't enough.
Now that the foundations of Red Tide Territory were gradually stabilizing, it was time to allocate half the craftspeople and labor force to start building a true lord's castle.