Seeking help from Gwendolyn was a decent idea.
He was from Lyonesse, which made him an enemy of Aethelred, Stonewold's enemy.
But based on that alone, Gwendolyn wouldn't necessarily risk saving him.
He was just a male prisoner, of little value.
Therefore, to be rescued by Gwendolyn, he had to overcome two problems.
First, how to contact Gwendolyn.
Second, what reason could he give Gwendolyn to save him.
If there was a banquet the day after tomorrow, Isolde would definitely keep him by her side.
Isolde probably wouldn't, like last time, have him pour wine for Gwendolyn.
Her possessiveness was too strong now.
If that was the case, he likely wouldn't have a single chance to speak to Gwendolyn throughout the entire banquet.
He also had no servants or confidants to deliver a message for him. Sylas was stumped.
He dried Luna's fur. The white cat lay down on a sunny patch of ground and began grooming itself.
Sylas stared blankly at the cat, then suddenly laughed at himself.
"Ah, if only you were an obedient little dog."
After saying this, he casually picked up a thin bamboo twig and tossed it near the courtyard gate.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Luna seemed to understand.
It stalked over with an indignant air, as if to prove a point.
Then, it picked up the twig in its mouth, brought it back, and dropped it proudly before his feet.
"Huh? You can fetch?"
Sylas's heart leaped with joy.
He quickly picked up a bamboo leaf, crouched before Luna, and said seriously, "Take this! Over there!"
He pointed to the courtyard gate.
Then, he placed the bamboo leaf in front of Luna.
Luna lazily flopped onto its back, exposing its snow-white belly.
It was on strike.
It wouldn't get up without a belly rub.
Sylas was utterly exasperated.
Even a cat knows how to bargain?
Helpless, he could only reach out and rub the white cat's belly.
Only then did Luna narrow its eyes, get up, pick up the bamboo leaf, and deftly place it near the courtyard gate.
"Good!"
For the first time in a long while, Sylas felt a surge of excitement.
He excitedly picked up Luna and paced around the courtyard.
If he could deliver a message, the next thing to consider was how to make Gwendolyn risk offending Isolde to rescue him.
He stroked the cat's fur, thinking carefully about the correspondence between Stonewold and Lyonesse.
Stonewold only held the Heartlands, relying on its few major passes.
In a head-on battlefield clash, Stonewold soldiers were no match for the Aethelred Phalanx.
This was normal.
Lyonesse had many swordswomen, but their blades couldn't pierce the Phalanx's heavy armor.
Stonewold had many crossbows, but they also couldn't penetrate these iron cans.
So, the threat hanging over Stonewold was this seemingly unstoppable Aethelred Phalanx.
Sylas put his mind to work.
Finally, he returned to the room, found a piece of pristine white paper, cut it into small strips.
He wrote a few sentences in very small characters.
Then, he rolled up these small slips of paper and stored them carefully.
A wry smile touched his lips.
For better or worse, this was all he could do.
...
Three days later, Isolde indeed took him to Amberfields.
To show sincerity, the two nations chose a neutral ground for the meeting.
It was autumn.
The banquet was held on an earthen slope, with the river to the west.
While drinking, one could enjoy the mountain scenery and the river view.
It was a place of distinctive scenery.
Sylas rode in the same carriage as Isolde.
He held the lazy Luna in his arms, his heart filled with anxiety.
In the carriage, Isolde held his arm, chatting and laughing from time to time.
But noticing his slight tension, she immediately became unhappy.
"Lord Sylas, you're ignoring me again."
She had become inexplicably prone to jealousy these days.
Over the past month, Isolde had gradually accepted Sylas's "enchantment."
Anyway, she was destined to love him for life.
If he wanted to enchant her, so be it.
Moreover, she discovered Sylas wasn't the nation-wrecking type; he almost never mentioned court affairs.
And his relatives had all fled overseas now, so she didn't need to grant them titles or positions.
Since he showed no interest in the court and had no influential relatives meddling in politics, what was there to worry about?
He was just a helpless little beauty.
Isolde actually quite hoped he would enchant her more.
Hearing her, Sylas forced a smile.
"I haven't been out for a long time, so I'm a bit nervous."
Isolde: "You're blaming me again!"
"No, I would never blame Your Majesty..." Isolde muttered, "You'd rather hold this stupid cat than hold me.
Just you wait.
When we get back, I'll have your arms removed so I can hold myself."
"Don't, don't..." Sylas was startled.
He quickly put Luna down and actively wrapped his arms around Isolde's waist.
The pregnant woman's belly was high and prominent, her waist larger.
He didn't dare hold her tightly, only encircling her gently.
Seeing this, Isolde's expression turned melancholy.
"My waist was so slender before. Look at it now, like a barrel."
It seemed she was experiencing some appearance anxiety.
After all, as a sovereign, she held herself to high standards.
Sylas comforted her, "It will be fine after the child is born. It will happen quickly."
Isolde remained sullen.
But she only showed this mood in front of Sylas.
In front of others, she was still the lofty Empress.
They finally arrived at Amberfields.
Isolde, finding movement difficult, was carried up the slope by palace maids on a small litter.
Sylas followed beside her, holding Luna.
He quickly scanned the surroundings but didn't see Celeste.
"Looking for something?" Isolde was extremely attentive to him, questioning even the slightest action.
Her need for control had reached its peak.
"Reporting to Your Majesty, I thought Her Grace the Duchess of Arbor would also be here." Isolde sneered, "Still thinking about the Duchess, are you?
She's not coming. She has other matters to attend to."
Sylas replied meekly, "Just curious."
"Sylas, I really will have your arms removed when we get back!
How dare you be curious about her? Hmph."
Isolde was furious. She ignored Sylas after that.
Sylas was speechless.
Nowadays, whenever he spoke, Isolde seemed determined to punish him severely.
He was starting to believe the Empress had descended into madness.
Thinking this, he prayed inwardly, "God, have pity on me."
Upon entering the banquet, Sylas was indeed seated right next to Isolde.
He then saw the Stonewold Chancellor, Gwendolyn.
Gwendolyn was thirty-two years old.
She was tall, with dignified features and piercingly bright eyes.
She was dressed impeccably. Her clothes, while not excessively luxurious, were perfectly matched.
Anyone seeing her would think she was a rigorous and capable individual.
And she was indeed such a person.
Mirabel's mother, Phoenix, was fifteen years her senior, but they hit it off immediately, sworn sisters who lived and worked together.
The two sisters cooperated seamlessly, one handling civil matters, the other military.
With just three thousand militia, they managed to firmly occupy the Heartlands, sealing the passes against enemies.
But then, five years ago, the legendary leader Phoenix passed away tragically, entrusting the ten-year-old Mirabel to Gwendolyn.
This young Regent became the pillar of Stonewold.