As Anna said, there’s a limit to how much she could channel her overflowing lust into delicately depicting the wrinkles under Briston’s firm b*ttocks. It wasn’t just about wanting to sleep with Breck anymore; she wanted to erase this embarrassment.

“Just go out. You need input to have output.”

Lying down, Lily waved her hand.

“You always go out once before drawing the autumn special illustrations. I’ve set everything up to make sure you get inspired.”

Anna said.

Indeed, everything was set up. A larger and softer mat than usual, a blanket slightly too big to cover her knees, an amazing packed lunch, a secluded picnic spot. And even the coachman’s leave. If Lily didn’t mess up, everything would be perfect.

Reluctantly, Lily gathered her writing tools and paper. Anna was right. She always went out once before drawing the seasonal special illustrations.

She planned to sketch the maple and ginkgo forests this time too. To draw the two spirits spending a honeymoon with the Dragon Slayer in a secluded mountain, cut off from the world.

‘It’s unfair.’

Why are there so many great men and women in Randolph’s novel, and why do they fall in love and live so easily, while I live pinching my thighs?

Lily got up sadly.

And then she awkwardly ran into Breck in front of the carriage.

‘Why, it’s Breck?’

Lily screamed internally. She really didn’t want to meet him right now.

“The coachman sprained his wrist. So I’ll be driving you.”

Breck maintained a blank expression.

Officially, he had only greeted this mistress once on the day he was hired. After that, he would occasionally nod and greet her when they passed by.

There was no need to mention that he knew about the gaze piercing his back or that she had used illusion magic last time to suggest going to the mill. Such things would be impossible for an innocent young man to notice.

Breck didn’t want to reveal who he used to be. He liked his peaceful life now and the odd jobs he did at the Viscount’s estate.

If only Lily’s strange behavior would stop, his life would be perfectly normal.

‘Keep a straight face, keep a straight face.’

Breck had to steel himself several times. It was hard to just look at Lily’s face. Her expression remained calm, but her complexion turned yellow, blue, and then red. She seemed to know she was embarrassing herself, which made him want to laugh.

“Can you handle a horse?”

After a long pause, Lily asked, as if she had calmed down. She didn’t seem aware of how long she had stared at him. It had been exactly 2 minutes and 34 seconds. Not a normal interval at all.

Embarrassingly, Breck found that face rather cute.

“I can manage. Don’t worry.”

Breck opened the carriage door and offered his hand to Lily. She stared blankly at his hand. It was large and very beautiful.

No, not beautiful in the usual sense. His palm was full of calluses and overall rough. What Lily noticed was that his fingers were very long, his bones well-structured, not something a simple gardener would have. The muscles and veins leading to his wrist were artistic. That hand was even better than the one she obsessively drew holding the holy sword of Briston.

“My lady?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Lily blushed. She didn’t even dare to hold his hand and just hugged her drawing board and jumped into the carriage.

Breck was dumbfounded. He could almost hear Lily’s heart pounding, but he calmly closed the carriage door to respect her embarrassment. Of course, such a thin door was no obstacle to Breck’s hearing. He could hear her muttering, “I must be crazy,” in agony.

He knew what was happening but didn’t understand what was causing it, so he looked down at his palm.

‘Oh, isn’t the coachman supposed to escort?’

When a woman gets into a carriage, depending on the intimacy, you help her up by holding her hand or waist. It was an action pattern naturally ingrained in Breck.

But he was the coachman now. Maybe bringing a footstool would have been the right choice.

Still, it didn’t feel bad. He was relieved. Lily’s actions were very puzzling, but at least she wasn’t a spy or someone who knew his true identity.

‘If it takes her 2 minutes and 34 seconds to react, she can’t be involved in politics or conspiracies.’

Breck thought. He couldn’t guess what was in her pretty head, though.

He climbed onto the coachman’s seat in a light mood. He gently shook the reins and started the carriage.

It was a beautiful day. The autumn sky was high, the breeze was gentle, and everything was peaceful.

‘No news is good news, no children is a blessing. A dull life is the best.’

It was a day that made you want to hum a tune.

The mountain was a mountain, but it wasn’t high or particularly deep. It was bright enough not to lose direction even without a path. There was no demonic energy or spiritual energy that made him sick of all the so-called scenic spots he had seen. No monsters, demons, dragons, or fairies. It was a view allowed purely for humans. He hadn’t realized this as a boy.

Breck was a rebellious son. His parents wanted their children to study diligently and get a job in a big merchant guild, but unlike his brother, Breck hated sitting at a desk studying. Not that he had anything else he particularly wanted to do or friends to play with.

He spent all day wandering around, unable to contain the energy boiling inside him.

Now he knew. He was born with too much energy to live as a farmer’s son. Life force, vitality, spirit, or magical power, whatever you called it.

It had put him in countless difficult situations. Succubi and vampires went crazy over him. When he was weak, monsters tried to devour him, and mad demons wanted to use him as an experiment.

But with that power, he survived and seized the holy sword. He became an aura master. He was immune to all poisons, had the eyes of a sage, and the heart of a dragon.

At one time, he felt superior and proud of those facts. But looking back now, having so much wasn’t necessarily good.

Anyway, he thought he knew the area well, but he hadn’t realized such a beautiful place existed. Maybe back then, he couldn’t even see the autumn leaves.

He parked the carriage in a suitable spot and unloaded the luggage. He spread out a cozy, thick mat and opened the carriage door. Lily was slumped over, her head buried in her knees. Breck could hear her muttering to herself, “I should just die.”

“We’ve arrived.”

“Huh? Eek!”

Lily looked up and asked, then screamed in surprise. She stepped on her drawing board wrong, and it bounced up, hitting her knee.

“Ouch!”

From a distance, she had a dignified face, but up close, she was a mess. Her usually impeccable appearance was nowhere to be found.

Breck sighed slightly. He spoke to Lily, who was clutching her knee in pain.

“I’ll help you down.”

“Huh? Ah!”

Lily screamed again in surprise. Breck lightly lifted her and carried her to the mat.

Lily’s face turned as red as it could get. The arm supporting her butt was firm, and his chest was much broader than it looked. Her ex-husband also had a good body, but this was incomparable. It was so manly it made her insides tingle.

“Y-You’re really strong.”

She tried to speak normally, but her heart was pounding, and her tongue wouldn’t cooperate.

“I think it’s worth boasting about.”

Breck said plainly. Lily tensed up.

After setting her down on the mat, he asked,

“Are you hurt?”

“N, no.”

Judging by the speed at which the drawing board hit, it would at least leave a bruise. Her forehead was still furrowed in pain.

Breck could alleviate the pain with a simple massage. In fact, he could even reduce the injury itself, but he couldn’t just lift his employer’s skirt, could he?

‘Ah.’

He had a fleeting thought. Breck abruptly stood up.

He thought it was crazy, but maybe the suggestion to go to the mill had been quite effective. The very fact that it created such an association in his employer’s mind was proof enough.

‘Is it the Empire? Or the Dragon Lord? Definitely not the Succubus Queen. From the Demon Realm?’

Breck pondered.

Just because it was his hometown didn’t mean he could completely let his guard down. Any of the opponents he recalled could easily manipulate an entire city. They could brainwash without leaving any visible traces.

‘Is this clumsiness also a scheme?’