Arthur's strong arms gently placed Rona on the bed.
Her robes, loosened and disheveled from the previous commotion, revealed her fair neck and gently rising chest.
The air was filled with Rona's elegant fragrance.
Rona was now utterly exhausted, her eyes hollow, like a frightened lamb.
"You... are... 'temporarily'... safe, Rona," Arthur said calmly, bowing slightly. "I must take my leave, Rona. I need to lead my men out of the castle and encamp outside the city."
Before he could finish, a cool, soft hand suddenly gripped his wrist.
The grip was not strong, but it carried a desperate stubbornness, like a drowning person clutching at a final piece of driftwood.
"No... Lord Arthur!" Rona's voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, thick with a nasal tone, and tears once again flowed uncontrollably, blurring her vision. "Please, Lord Arthur... don't go... don't leave me alone... will you help me?"
Her body trembled slightly, the fear and humiliation from moments ago washing over her like a tide.
Her husband and her husband's father had died in battle, and outside, wolves surrounded her, everyone wanting her property and the land in her hands. She felt like a lone boat at sea, helpless and alone.
Arthur stopped and turned around.
He looked at her tear-filled eyes, which showed no trace of a noblewoman's usual pride and resilience, only pure despair.
He was silent for a moment, then slowly raised his other hand and gently placed it on her long, disheveled hair.
Rona did not resist; her hair was soft, carrying a faint fragrance. He gently stroked it, comforting the poor woman.
"The granary in the city is empty, I will allocate enough grain to you," Arthur said, his voice still calm, but with a hint of imperceptible tenderness. "Enough for your castle to overcome this difficulty."
Rona's body trembled. She did not mind his presumptuous behavior, nor did she push away the hand touching her hair; in her extreme panic and despair, it seemed insignificant.
She suddenly lifted her head, and a glimmer of hope burst forth in her eyes.
"Really?" she asked with a trembling voice, as if grasping at a lifeline. "You... you are really willing to help me?"
"I am, Rona," Arthur replied affirmatively.
Rona's tears flowed again, but this time they were tears of gratitude.
She clasped her hands together, facing Arthur, and whispered weakly but excitedly, "Thank you, Lord Arthur, I will remember your kindness, and I will surely repay you."
Rona leaned her head against Arthur's palm, feeling the warmth of his hand and his gentle comfort.
Arthur's tenderness and promise instantly relaxed her taut nerves.
She tilted her face slightly, gazing at him through teary eyes. Arthur's outline appeared exceptionally clear; his face was so reassuring.
Arthur nodded slightly, withdrew his hand from her hair, but then it was pulled back by the poor woman and placed on her head again.
Arthur: "..."
He awkwardly took a folded parchment from his embrace, then struggled to unfold it.
The paper was densely covered with names.
He handed the paper to Rona and said calmly, "Rona, the reason your castle is in such chaos is because of these people."
"They killed your old steward's family and took the grain to create chaos."
"They secretly incited soldiers and spread rumors, all with the aim of stealing your property and seizing your land."
Rona's gaze fell on the parchment, and the unfamiliar names made her feel a wave of dizziness.
She could not see clearly, nor did she want to.
Her recent terrifying experience filled her with resistance to anything related to violence and conspiracy.
She did not even consider why Arthur would have such a list.
She shook her head wearily, pressing her head against Arthur's palm.
She did not even take the paper; she just looked at Arthur, her eyes full of dependence and submission.
"I... I don't know, Lord Arthur," her voice was tearful and full of reliance. "I don't know anything... Please, you handle it, I leave everything to you."
"You decide. Everything is up to you."
Rona obediently took the pen and paper and signed her name.
Arthur refolded the parchment and put it back into his embrace.
"You rest well, Rona," his voice softened. "No one will disturb you tonight. I will leave my soldiers in the castle."
Rona did not respond, only held his hand tightly.
Her breathing gradually steadied, as if she could find a moment of peace by his side.
Arthur stood quietly for a while until Rona fell asleep.
He gently withdrew his hand.
Rona seemed to sense it in her sleep, her brows furrowed slightly, and she mumbled indistinctly, "Don't... don't go... Little Suleiman."
Arthur sighed, looking at her sleeping face with complex emotions.
He carefully covered her with the quilt, then placed her hand back under the covers, tucked in the corner of the quilt for her, stood up, and left.
The bedroom door was gently pulled open by him, then closed silently.
Outside the door, Lucien and some soldiers were already standing in solemn wait.
"Guard this place well and control the inner castle," Arthur commanded in a low voice. "No one is to enter without my order."
"Yes, Lord Arthur!" Lucien responded in a deep voice.
Arthur did not linger, turning to walk towards the courtyard, handing the list in his hand to Bronn, who had appeared stealthily.
He said nothing.
"As you wish, Arthur," Bronn took the list and disappeared into the shadows.
Arthur was somewhat silent. He looked at Rona's garden, and it was evident that she liked flowers and plants very much and had put a lot of effort into it.
He walked in, lay down, plucked a rose, placed it at his nose, gently inhaling its fragrance, enjoying a moment of tranquility.
He no longer knew if it was right or wrong, only to move forward.
A rapid and disordered sound of footsteps approached from a distance, breaking the surrounding tranquility.
Hakon strode quickly to Arthur, who was lying in the garden grass.
He bent down, supporting himself with his hands on his knees, panting heavily, his hand still pointing in the direction he had come from, gesticulating.
His expression was anxious, but he could not utter a word, so anxious that veins bulged on his forehead.
Arthur looked at his distraught appearance but did not urge him, just waited quietly.
Finally, Hakon took a deep breath and recovered slightly: "Lord Arthur! Just now, a patrolling soldier reported! An old monk is burying the mountain of wildmen's heads you piled up! And he also destroyed the stone tablet you erected!"
He suddenly lifted his head, his eyes filled with incredible anger.
Burying their enemies! How many brothers died at their hands! And destroying the stone tablet! Offending Lord Arthur's authority!
But he saw that his Lord Arthur's expression seemed unchanged.
He just looked at him quietly, seemingly waiting for his breathing to calm down.
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