He felt the world widening and shrinking with every second that sound persisted. The edges of his fingers shook uncontrollably; he clasped his hands together, desperate to rein in his unraveling composure.
The click of Jessica's heels wasn't just sound—it was a nail hammered on his whole being. Or was the real threat the drumbeat of his own pulse, loud enough to blur the line between her approach and his collapse?
For a heartbeat—just one stuttering, painful heartbeat—he was certain his chest would rupture from the pressure building inside. Her sudden arrival had upended the room's peaceful morning rhythm, transforming their sanctuary into a stage where he stood exposed and vulnerable. His legs refused to obey his desperate commands to stand straight. He gripped the chair's back with trembling fingers, desperate to anchor himself against the tremor seizing his muscles.
"Get a grip. This isn't you," he whispered through gritted teeth, the words were barely audible.
Every eye in the room had locked onto the heavy oak door—some curious, others concerned, all of them contemplating with bated breath, desperately waiting for the person who could reduce their usually composed Jasper to such a quivering state.
Then she entered, and the very atmosphere shifted.
Sunlight seemed to bend around her silhouette as she passed through the doorway.
No one disputed her beauty: the sweep of her lashes, the blade-thin curve of her lips. But it was her gait—smooth as a swan gliding upon still water—and the warm smile she bestowed upon the room, combined with her golden hair and blue eyes, that gave the perfect clue.
Jasper wasn't afraid of this woman.
He was utterly, completely, hopelessly captivated—a victim of her charm and flawlessly practiced grace.
With a curtsy of perfect poise, she offered a gentle smile. "Good morning, everyone." Her voice softened as her eyes locked onto Jasper, warmth flooding her words. "And to you, sir Jasper, thank you. This morning feels brighter just seeing you."
For a second, his mind emptied—words scuttling away out of shyness. Then, he caught the stares of his subordinates. A cough raked his throat as he straightened his cuffs in a composed manner. "Ahem. Miss Jessica, what an… unexpected pleasure to host you in my humble guild. Care to share a meal with us? After all, I'm pretty sure you didn't eat anything coming this early in the morning." The aroma of hearty soup and fresh baked bread seemed to intensify at his words, steam still rising from the bowls in appetizing spirals.
Everyone was silent, hanging on every word of the passionate conversation like spectators at a theatrical performance. Even Ivar—the notorious chatterbox whose voice usually filled every quiet moment—sat frozen in place.
"That would be my honor, sir Jasper." The words rolled off her tongue elegantly.
She walked with intentional slowness, smiling at everyone, yet her gaze scrutinized the people before her, taking in every detail:
A cheerful child with crumb-dusted cheeks gazing up in wide-eyed admiration, her small fingers sticky with jam.
A hulking man who's a bit hard to see through, and a blonde woman with kind green eyes, both bearing unmistakable slave marks on their necks, yet seated at the table as equals. Their posture was relaxed and comfortable in a way that spoke of true acceptance.
Her steps froze when she saw Lysandra. The girl was younger—perhaps by only a year or two—but the aura surrounding her was too domineering, dwarfing everything else in the room, making Jessica's hand tremble before she clenched it still. Her nails dug crescents into her palm.
How could Jasper ever look at anyone else with someone like her beside him?
The thought slithered in, sharp enough to prick at her confidence. But she smoothed her expression, locking the doubt away.
The man beside Lysandra was just as striking—no, he was terrifyingly handsome with features that would render any woman fall head over heels for him. Jessica prided herself on hiding her emotions, but Jasper's guild was pushing both her confidence and her masks to the brink.
Jasper gave up his chair and quickly brought another one for himself.
As she sat, her gaze locked on Jasper, "Let me start by saying that I'm eternally grateful for your help, Sir Jasper. You not only sacrificed a precious medicine but also restored my family's home with renewed vitality." Her voice trembled, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I've never seen my father so happy; he even canceled all his meetings and all the work just to stay with my mother, whose face and body now glow with life."
Jasper's chest swelled with accomplishment—for a moment, he felt weightless, as if he might float away. "I'm glad my gift was to your liking."
Silence settled over the breakfast table. Jasper was squeezing his mind to keep the conversation lively, but his mind was empty. When his gaze flicked to Ivar, the man's silhouette seemed to glow under the morning light.
'This guy is an expert at livening up the mood; I need to somehow tell him to start speaking.' Jasper thought desperately.
A sharp kick struck Ivar's shin under the table with the force of desperation. The impact sent a shock up Ivar's leg, and he jerked his head up like a startled deer, scanning the faces around him with wide, confused eyes, his teeth gritted with anger as he tried to determine who had assaulted his poor shin. Then his gaze landed on Jasper, who was staring straight at him with his fingers frantically dancing. His hand froze midway with the spoon full of soup, deciphering Jasper's ambiguous gestures. He quickly understood that he wanted him to start speaking, so he gestured back with his eyes, aiming at Mina, as if saying, 'If I start blabbering nonsense, she might end up a widow.'
However, Jasper wasn't convinced by that excuse. His eyes narrowed beneath his hood as he continued striking Ivar's shin in rapid blows, relentlessly targeting the same spot. Ivar grimaced, his face screaming a silent plea: Please, show mercy. No matter what I choose, it backfires on me.
"Hmm?" Jessica hummed. Her sharp eyes had caught the subtle tremors running through both men, sensing the undercurrent of Jasper's secret and increasingly desperate communications beneath the table. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched with elegant curiosity.
Noticing her, "Ah ha ha ha," He forced a laugh. "Do you like the food?" he asked in an attempt to drift her focus away.
"Absolutely." Her smile was radiant, genuinely describing. "The chef's exceptional—I can taste the love and care in every bite."
"Of course, my wife's cooking is unreplicable." Jessica turned to see who was speaking with such passionate conviction, and of course, it was none other than Ivar, his chest puffed out with pride.
"Oh, excuse me, I didn't introduce myself properly." He set down his spoon with a flourish that would have been at home in a royal court. "I'm Ivar, former king of a very distant, fallen kingdom that you've probably never heard of—and this lovely creature here is my queen, Mina." He gestured to his wife with a sweeping motion that nearly knocked over his water cup. "We lost at war and ended up as slaves, as you can see." Jessica felt shocked hearing such news, and Mina was even more shocked.
"This is our daughter, Lina," he continued, pointing at the little girl who was completely absorbed in the serious business of eating her breakfast, her small face smeared with jam. Still, she managed to answer without looking up, raising one small, sticky hand in protest. "I'm not," she declared with the absolute certainty that only children possess.
But she doesn't resemble either of you, and she even denies it," Jessica said, raising an eyebrow. She was clearly confused by this man who was either speaking the truth or spouting nonsense.
Ivar paused for a theatrical moment, stroking his beard as if pondering the mysteries of the universe, then looked at Lina with exaggerated contemplation. "Well, who cares about such trivial details?" he shrugged with the nonchalance of someone discussing the weather.
'But I do really care—my whole life is built on details, on understanding every nuance and hidden meaning,' Jessica's stare seemed to scream, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Anyway, this is Lysandra." Ivar swooped on. "Ice princess by day, unstoppable gossip by night—literally a chatterbox."
Lysandra looked at him in shock, her face flushed. "You are the chatterbox, and everyone here is a witness."
Mina buried her face in her palms, ashamed by her husband's shameless lies. Jasper regretted every life choice leading to this moment.
"And we can't forget our devastatingly handsome guild star, Breeze!" Ivar continued his reign of chaos, flinging an arm toward the man who sat with the serene confidence of carved marble. "Lysandra's brother, and master of the family tradition of aloofness—observe how he pretends we mere mortals do not exist in his elevated presence!"
Breeze, who had been carefully maintaining his composure, finally cracked. He snorted into his juice, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.
"In conclusion, this is all nothing but an elaborate jest—and we welcome you with open arms to our wonderfully dysfunctional family, Miss Jessica! Here, you'll find the beauty," he gestured toward Lysandra, "and the beast," nodding at Jasper. "Prince Charming," he indicated Breeze, "and the ogre," pointing at himself. "Little Red Riding Hood," he said, motioning to Lina, "and the Wol—"
Mina's deadly smile cut him off mid-sentence. Realizing he was on the verge of making the worst mistake of his life, he froze, a cold sweat breaking over him. Swallowing hard, he quickly corrected himself:
"And her beautiful mother." pointing at Mina
Then Jessica's carefully maintained composure didn't just crack—it shattered completely like glass hitting stone. Laughter erupted from her with the force of a dam bursting, shaking her shoulders as if she were caught in an earthquake of mirth. Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she clutched the edge of the table with white knuckles, gasping for air between waves of uncontrollable giggles. "I'm—sorry—I can't—" she wheezed, her refined speech dissolving into breathless hilarity.
The sound of her genuine laughter was infectious, spreading through the air. Everyone followed suit, the tension that had gripped the morning dissolved like it didn't exist to begin with.
When she finally caught her breath, she wiped her eyes. "Thank you for your humorous welcome, your majesty; you lightened the mood."
Ivar's ears fluttered in amusement at her words. "I really can't handle emotional atmospheres, so it's good to see you laughing," he grinned. But his grin faltered as he noticed his wife's dark smile—a silent warning after he had nearly called her a wolf while calling Lysandra a beauty.
After finishing the meal, Jasper invited Jessica to his office, embarrassed by what he needed to discuss. He didn't want the others to hear him, especially Ivar.
Once they settled in the office, he began speaking, "I'm sorry for the lack of comfort. This building is all I have at the moment, but once we… Once we get married, I'll build a bigger and more majestic mansion than any you've ever seen."
Jessica shook her head with a soft smile. "That won't be necessary, sir. My family's home is yours as well." Her voice warmed, though a hint of weariness lingered. "Truthfully, I've come to cherish this warmth—a life unbound by status, where no one wears masks. Where laughter is sincere, not poisoned by pretense. Far better than those wretched social gatherings. This is the life that I wish for."
Jasper exhaled in relief hearing her honest thoughts. "I'm genuinely glad to hear how you feel about the environment here. And please—no more 'Sir' or 'Mister.' Just call me Jasper."
"My pleasure, but this will only be in private, Jasper." Her smile deepened.
Jasper didn't expect one day hearing his name will bring all this joy to his heart. "Jessica, do you have any requests to make? I will do my best to fulfill them."
"No, I just came here to express my gratitude," she replied with genuine emotion. "If anything, I should be asking what you wish for."
Jasper gripped his hood with nervous fingers, hesitating as if the words themselves might burn his tongue. "Well, a wish is quite the luxury that I can't afford to indulge in, but I do have a question that's been burning in my mind." He took a shaking breath that seemed to echo in the small space. "When… when do you think we should marry?"
Jessica tapped a finger against her cheek, playful. "Hmm…" Then she smiled. "Whenever you choose. Even if you said today or tomorrow, I wouldn't refuse."
Jasper nearly choked. "Wha—ye—no, no, no, no! It can't be this quick. I have a lot of things to prepare first." He gasped. 'There are barbarians underground digging and monsters ready to be hunted. I can't be blinded by my happiness. I also need to strengthen myself, or my first night would be disastrous.' he reasoned.
"Let's make it half a year from now. Would that suit you?" He asked.
"That's perfectly fine by me."
After a long conversation, Jessica took her leave, leaving a good impression on Jasper's companions. She didn't care about social status—just like Jasper, she treated everyone with respect.
"You hit it big, Master, huh?" Ivar elbowed Jasper, his ears now double the size after being tortured by Mina's pinches. "Not only did you land yourself a beautiful wife, but she's also the sole heir of a major merchant."
Jasper flushed. "Enough out of you! Now spread the word—I need an herb called Cleansing Root. And place a bounty at the mercenary guild. Whatever the cost."
After issuing his orders, Jasper retreated to his office to resume his alchemy practice—though practice was too generous a word. Each equation he encountered threatened to split his mind apart.
"Hey, ArmBrace, is this even alchemy? This feels like a scam."
The 'scam' is what you've been studying since childhood, dear user. Stop complaining. You'll see the results once you complete the training.
Every hour, he staggered outside, collapsing onto the backyard bench. The cool breeze soothed his frayed nerves, granting him just enough respite to endure another round of mental torture.
That afternoon, as he pressed his burning forehead against the wooden bench, Lina was nearby, playfully stroking one of the horses. Suddenly, a strange noise echoed from a hole in the ground. Curious, she crept closer—
A Titan erupted from the earth. The creature was massive beyond comprehension for Lina's petite frame.
"KYAAAA!"