I smiled sweetly, absolutely full of lies.
"Yes, Sir Knight. I am… extremely well."
And extremely single. And extremely ready. And extremely—
Focus.
He went back to discussing logistics with my father, apparently unaware that I was beside them waging WAR with my hormones.
His voice vibrated through the hall.
His shoulder armor gleamed.
His muscles threatened global peace.
And there I was, standing like a decorative fruit basket beside the Duke, trying not to drool on the antique flooring.
"So, Sir Alex," I ventured, trying to sound normal and not like I googled pictures of him in my past life.
"How long will your patrol be stationed in our territory?"
He didn't even look at me when he replied.
"A few months, Lady Seraphine. Until the palace confirms the return of normal conditions."
A few.
Months.
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
Oh chaos.
"That long?" I said, smiling like a villainess ready to ruin plotlines. "What an absolute… blessing."
My father whispered, "Seraphine, tone."
"What tone?" I whispered back. "This is my normal voice when looking at biceps."
Sir Alex continued calmly, "Your father mentioned the mines becoming accessible again. I intend to visit them personally. The Tower wants full reports."
"Oh, of course," I said, fluttering my eyelashes so hard I nearly took flight. "If you ever need a… guide… I'm very familiar with the territory."
Father cleared his throat. Loudly.
A warning.
A threat.
An "I swear to the gods, child" sort of sound.
Sir Alex spared me the briefest glance.
"Your offer is appreciated, Lady Seraphine," he said politely, oblivious to the storm of thirst behind my smile. "But unnecessary."
I nodded gracefully.
Internally?
Screaming into the void.
But, I will do everything in my power for you to ask for my help.
But fine.
It was okay.
Sir Alex Canva, the man of destiny, was here.
In my ruined, sad little territory.
For months.
And I?
I had sass, chubby wraith minions, and questionable survival instincts.
The plot was starting.
The romance was beginning.
And the handsome knight of the century just breathed the same air I did.
******
ALEX CANVA – POV
I knew Duke Alistair's territory was far from the capital— "Silver Wolf of the West." —far as in if-you-throw-a-stone-it-will-never-return far. The king sent us to investigate the "miraculous recovery" happening in this forsaken corner of the kingdom.
Greener fields?
Flowing rivers again?
Open mines?
Fishes returning to the ocean like they'd forgiven humanity?
Honestly, I thought someone in the capital exaggerated the reports. Or drank too much enchanted wine.
For months the entire kingdom had been choking in famine and sickness. How could one territory suddenly look like a divine garden?
Turns out… it could.
Because the moment my patrol crested the last hill and the full view of Duke Alistair's lands unfolded below us, every single horse—even the cranky ones—paused like they were admiring artwork.
The dead wasteland I remembered?
Gone.
Instead:
Emerald farmland.
Shimmering lakes.
Fishermen shouting with joy over netfuls of fish.
Villagers bustling so busily it looked like a festival day.
Vegetables, fruits, corn, mana stones—
all being traded in broad daylight like it hadn't been a barren disaster zone months ago.
My men were speechless.
I, Sir Alex Canva—knight, scholar, poem-writer, man supposedly unshakeable—was speechless.
And then a baker stopped our convoy.
A baker.
Holding warm bread. And a wooden tray of fresh fruit.
Fresh.
Actual fruit.
Not dried, shriveled, or magically preserved.
Fresh.
"My lord knights," the man beamed, "welcome! You must be tired. Please—take these! Our land has been blessed again!"
My men almost cried.
One guard literally kissed the apple.
I pretended to maintain knightly dignity while internally writing a sonnet about that bread.
Naturally, I asked what happened.
I expected superstition or exaggerated fairy tales.
Instead, the entire roadside population practically sprinted over to tell the same story:
"It happened a few weeks ago!"
"The curse on the mines lifted!"
"Dark magic statue destroyed!"
"And it was the Duke's daughter—Lady Seraphine—who figured it out!"
"Brave girl, that one!"
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The Duke's daughter? I'd heard rumors of her—the eccentric lady, loud, dramatic, apparently possessed by either courage or chaos. Accounts varied.
But crediting one noblewoman with undoing a land-wide curse?
It sounded unbelievable.
Yet… the evidence surrounded me. Blooming, growing, thriving. And people spoke her name with genuine gratitude—not fear, not obligation.
A few minutes later, we finally approached the Duke's mansion.
The structure itself looked ancient, battered by years of poverty. Cracked pillars, faded stone, roof tiles missing like a balding old man.
But the garden?
The garden was a full rebirth.
Flowers bursting in every corner.
Green vines climbing the walls.
Trees shading the walkway.
A fountain that actually worked.
The home itself was still a ruin, but the land around it flourished as if nature had rushed back the moment the curse died.
"Tie the horses. Form up," I told my men, though my voice was still threaded with disbelief.
As we moved toward the grand—well, formerly grand—entrance, I couldn't help but think:
Who exactly is this Lady Seraphine?
And how in the king's name did she do this?
And more importantly—
Why did a part of me suddenly feel like I was walking into the beginning of a story I wasn't prepared for?
******
When the maid opened the door, I braced myself.
I've met noble ladies before—graceful, elegant, delicate as porcelain.
I expected someone like that.
Instead…
I was shocked.
Lady Seraphine…
was huge.
Not "slightly plump."
Not "soft around the edges."
No.
Huge.
Her cheeks were round and flushed like she'd been caught stealing pastries.
Her silver eyes—matching her silver hair—were wide, bright, and unsettlingly intense.
Her dress?
Too tight.
Painfully tight.
Stitches were holding on for dear life.
I tried—gods, I tried—to maintain composure.
I focused on the Duke. I focused on my mission. I focused on the report I had to write later.
But then—
She looked at me.
Not just looked.
Looked at me like I was a steamed bun in winter.
Like I was a fresh meal after twenty years of famine.
Like she wanted to devour me whole.
A shiver ran down my spine so fast even my armor felt it.
I am a knight.
A knight of the realm.
I have faced monsters, curses, political chaos, and one very spiteful goose.
But nothing prepared me for Lady Seraphine staring at me like I was dessert.
Still—I showed respect. I bowed. I greeted her formally. I smiled politely even though part of me worried she might attempt to lick me.
The Duke and I moved through the investigation details, but I… couldn't focus.
She was still staring.
If my armor had a zipper, I would've zipped myself inside it like a child hiding under a blanket.
Finally, the Duke sighed and said,
"Seraphine, you may accompany Sir Alex and his patrol to the mines. You discovered the statue—you should explain."
I blinked.
She?
She discovered a dark magic statue?
She broke it?
I didn't believe it.
Couldn't.
She had no mana circle.
No warrior aura. No magical presence whatsoever.
She looked like the kind of person who would struggle climbing stairs, let alone climbing into a cursed mine.
And the horse—
Oh heavens, no. I could already envision the poor creature crying.
So I quickly stepped in. "With all due respect, Lady Seraphine," I said gently, "perhaps a carriage would be more comfortable. A smoother ride. Safer. And your maid may accompany you."
And thank all holy spirits—she brightened at the idea.
The Duke approved.
My men relaxed.
And I?
…felt the weight of destiny on my shoulders.
Not heroic destiny.
Not romantic destiny.
More like:
"Sir Alex Canva, famous knight, will either die from dark magic
or from being eaten alive by the Duke's daughter."
Either way, the Mines Investigation just became a much more complicated mission.