Chapter 38: Princess Sibylla
After bidding farewell to Baron Godfrey, the sky had already grown dark. The four prepared to return to the manor.
In the sky, countless stars twinkled. The heavens seed very close to the ground, and the stars felt almost within reach. No wonder people said this was the place closest to God.
Even in the evening, the temperature in the Holy Land remained high. The ground, having absorbed a large amount of heat during the day, was like a scorching griddle, baking the soles of their feet.
A troop of cavalry galloped past from ahead. The squire at the very front of the troop carried a banner with the red Jerusalem cross emblem and held an oval shield, loudly ordering pedestrians to make way. They surrounded a noblewoman riding a white horse, wearing an Arab-style headscarf and a black veil, as they galloped onward.
"It’s Princess Sibylla!" Knowledgeable people on the road recognized the insignia. Princess Sibylla was not just a princess; she was also a duchess with her own fiefs. The port of Jaffa, which they had passed through on arrival, was one of her territories.
’So she is Baldwin IV’s sister! She seed to have so little presence in the great hall earlier.’ The thought had just crossed Lothar’s mind when her veil suddenly billowed away with the wind. Lothar instinctively reached out and caught it. In that stunningly beautiful fleeting glimpse, he saw Princess Sibylla’s lovely eyebrows, eyes, and features. She, however, did not stop, continuing to gallop away, leaving only a gust of fragrant wind.
"Tsk, such a deliberate move." Fringilla humd lightly. "Lothar, she seems interested in you. Did you see this princess in the palace today?"
"I did, but I didn’t pay much attention." Lothar handed the veil to Hans, who was beside him. "Keep this safe for the lady. Return it to her when you see her next."
"How did it feel?" Fringilla’s face was wreathed in smiles, but Lothar knew very well that her eyes already betrayed intense displeasure. Given her temperant, she was probably already thinking about how to suck Princess Sibylla dry into a desiccated corpse.
Banu’s eyes remained as calm as still water. She rely glanced at him briefly before continuing to ride forward, looking straight ahead.
Lothar shook his head. "Far inferior to you and Banu, really not much to look at. It’s impossible for to have any designs on her."
Actually, she was quite beautiful. It was just that spending his days and nights with Fringilla and Banu had raised his standards too high. Unless it was soone like Empress of the Eastern Empire—a widow who was both beautiful and ca with an empire as a dowry—he wouldn’t possibly stoop to being a kept man.
Moreover, the reason this princess was so sought after was because she had a son from her previous marriage, who was first in line to succeed Baldwin IV after his death.
But what if Baldwin IV didn’t die? Lothar was quite confident that if he truly drew a five or six-star healer retainer, curing leprosy wouldn’t be impossible. In fact, he had a way now: let Fringilla give him the First Embrace.
But Fringilla would never be willing; to what extent would this hygiene-conscious little miss have to be PUA’d to condescend to drink the blood of a leper and then inject her own precious vital blood?
Lothar wouldn’t make such a request either. Even if Baldwin IV were to favor him greatly in the future, he couldn’t make such a decision, because it was precisely the kind of "generosity at others’ expense" that he most detested.
As if satisfied with Lothar’s reaction, the notification sound of increased affection chid again. However, just as Lothar suspected, it seed they were still short of a threshold; the affinity remained in the "Indifferent" category. ’Do I really have to be in another life-or-death crisis? I want to play with magic too!’
Lothar rode to the front of the group and glanced back at Banu. They looked at each other for a long mont before Banu finally asked in her usual cool tone, "What is it?"
A slight smile touched Lothar’s lips. He hesitated for a mont, then still asked, "Banu, what do you think? Is Princess Sibylla really interested in ?"
Banu shook her head. "I cannot see through people’s hearts. This is not my area of expertise. Fringilla might be able to."
Fringilla said in a sarcastic tone, "The big dummy still has so insight. I can indeed sense it. The scent of a bitch in heat like that, I’m all too familiar with it."
Lothar showed a worried expression. "This princess is the central figure in Jerusalem’s current chaotic situation. It’s best not to get involved with her if possible."
Princess Sibylla had to choose her husband from among the King’s Party, the Nobles’ Party, or the Queen Mother’s Party. Originally, Sibylla was supposed to choose Guy of Lusignan, put forward by the Queen Mother’s Party, as her husband; after all, Sibylla was also a mber of the Queen Mother’s Party. And Guy of Lusignan, though rely a knight with no inheritance rights, was the brother of Amalric, Jerusalem’s Chief Military and Political Minister.
Lothar truly couldn’t understand why Sibylla would provoke him. Even if she wanted to win over the King’s Party, she should be approaching Balian. He was just a small fry who had recently joined.
As if seeing through Lothar’s thoughts, Fringilla said with a smile, "But when love arrives, nothing can stop it. You’d best be careful."
"I will." Lothar nodded in agreent. The King’s Party was in decline. Even with the Ibelin family’s support, if he wanted to marry Sibylla and ascend to the position of Regent, he would undoubtedly face imnse difficulties. Not to ntion, he had no desire to marry Sibylla in the first place.
"Balian is a good choice. Hans, trouble yourself to make another trip. Give this veil to Sir Balian, and say it’s for him to pass on to Her Highness Princess Sibylla." The Ibelin family was Lothar’s most important political ally; if he could seize this opportunity, it would be beneficial for him too.
A look of resignation crossed Hans’s face. He glanced at the two Legendary and Epic-grade powerhouses and sighed inwardly: ’The Lord brought along precisely because he wanted to do nial tasks and run errands, didn’t he?’
The group returned to the manor. Tonight, Lothar was uncharacteristically generous and treated all his subjects to a fine al. Roast whole lamb, wine, bread, fruits, vegetables, and butter were supplied without limit. During the long sea voyage, affections had secretly blossod among many of the subjects. Now, with alcohol in their systems, they began to dance to the rhythm.
Tuval was sowhat dejected. There were seven n and six won among the subjects in total, and he happened to be the odd one out; no one liked him.
The bonfire cast a glow on joyful faces. Lothar sat by the fire, watching this scene with a smile. Yet, a certain lancholy filled his heart. These vibrant, smiling faces—would they beco corpses lying in pools of blood, their features unrecognizable, after the next battle?
He stood up and watched no more. A benevolent person cannot command troops. Sotis, he felt he was not suited to be a commander at all.
He patted Tuval’s shoulder. "Train hard. Won will co sooner or later. When the ti cos, I will preside over your weddings."
"Milord... I..." Having been ridiculed by his village brothers all day, and the girl he fancied looking down on his cowardice, he had accumulated too much bitterness. Now, comforted by Lothar, tears instantly fell.
"Don’t cry. What kind of display is this?" Lothar’s tone beca a bit more serious. He said gravely, "Stick to the path you want to take. Whether it’s farming or fighting in wars, once you’ve chosen, don’t regret it."
Tuval sniffled hard and said with a sob, "Milord, I’ve thought it through. In the future, I will definitely take up arms to defend your honor and dignity! I won’t disgrace you again!"
"I believe you." Lothar stood up and walked towards the small building.
Fringilla sat on a treetop in the darkness, silently watching this scene, her expression unreadable. Banu still stood by the window, gazing at sothing unknown in the distance, though her eyes would occasionally sweep over and linger on Lothar for a mont.
That night, various suppressed panting sounds emanated from the manor.
Fringilla’s alluring laughter echoed in the room. "Milord, if you want to..."
"...you can co over to my side."
Lothar glanced at Banu’s cool eyes and, with a pained expression, covered his own head.
*****
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