Free Web NovelThe night was deep, and the warm underfloor heating in the east-side room on the third floor of Red Tide Fortress kept the chill at bay.
But Sif, on the bed, curled up even tighter.
Wrapped in a thick blanket, she gazed up at the ceiling, her cheeks slightly flushed, her deep blue eyes sparkling, carrying a hint of bewilderment.
"Who would like a barbarian from the South!" She gnashed her teeth inwardly, "Despicable, shameless, always smiling like a cunning fox..."
But no matter how she admonished herself, his figure stubbornly lingered.
Flashes repeatedly played in her mind: the unhurried gentleness in his low voice when talking to others.
His cautious yet confident demeanor when taming Cold Fang, and that one time...
He looked up and smiled at her, the sly curve at the corner of his eye making her heart skip a beat.
"Damn it--" Sif abruptly sat up, slamming her pillow onto the floor. Her silver-white short hair fell messily around her face from the movement.
"Damn Louis--!"
She cursed softly, her voice trembling slightly.
The scene of Louis fainting that day, and her feeling of helpless waiting outside the door, also stung her nerves repeatedly.
Sif's hand unconsciously reached for her chest, her fingertips gently touching the cold silver pendant.
It was the only memento her mother had left her.
Memories flooded back like a tide.
That distant night, the firelight reflecting on her mother's face, she sat on the animal skin chair, speaking in a teasing tone about her and her father's youthful past.
"If a woman of Han Yue Tribe falls in love, she hunts, like an Icefield Wolf, biting down and not letting go."
"You think your father could catch me? Heh, I was the one who kissed him first. He jumped up like a deer, his face all red."
Young Sif at that time only found it amusing, laughing so hard she couldn't straighten up. freeweɓnøvel.com
But now, she suddenly understood the meaning behind her mother's words.
She lowered her head, looking at the silver pendant between her fingers, and whispered to herself, "So this is... falling in love?"
Immediately, her cheeks flushed, red like /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ an apple roasted by a fire.
"Ah ah ah!" she shrieked, burying her head in the quilt, covering her entire head forcefully: "No, impossible—he's not my type at all!"
She clearly preferred cold, silent men who were only gentle to her.
But that Louis fellow, glib-tongued, fond of pretense, and sometimes quite childish... ƒгeewebnovёl.com
Yet he was also meticulous and understanding, humorous and straightforward, calm and reliable in a crisis, making one unable to help but rely on him.
"I—I just value his potential!" She defended herself, shrinking in the quilt. "I just need a reliable helper on the path of revenge."
But even she could hear how ridiculous this excuse was.
A few seconds later, the room fell into dead silence. She was still hiding in the quilt, motionless.
Suddenly, Sif abruptly threw off the quilt, her movements as swift as a leopard's.
She jumped out of bed, her bare feet stepping on the warm wooden floor, and walked towards the wardrobe without hesitation.
"I can't lie to myself anymore." She stood in front of the mirror, looking up and carefully examining herself.
Her silver-white short hair was slightly disheveled, her pale skin made her features appear more defined, her deep blue eyes were cold and clear, and her form-fitting clothes outlined her graceful curves.
She knew she was a rare beauty in the Northern Lands.
Finally, she slowly exhaled, as if making a certain decision, then turned and walked towards the door, her steps resolute and firm, like a hunter stepping out into the ice and snow, at the moment of catching her prey.
Before leaving the door, she still stubbornly muttered in a low voice: "I, I just want to confirm... confirm if he really has the guts."
The night was already deep.
Louis took off his heavy formal attire, changed into loose loungewear, and sat cross-legged on the bed.
In front of him was a faint oil lamp, its warm yellow light casting the room in a semi-darkness, as if enveloped in a quiet dream.
He lowered his eyelids, his breathing long and steady, focusing on the flow of energy within his body, trying to capture that subtle, almost imperceptible surge of magic.
Just as he was getting into the zone, there was a soft knock on the door.
"Thump, thump."
Followed by the slightly deep voice of the attendant: "Sir, Miss Sif requests an audience."
Louis opened his eyes, a hint of surprise flashing in them.
"So late?" He hesitated for a moment, then spoke, "...Let her in."
The door was pushed open.
A gust of night wind quietly slipped in, bringing the unique chill of the Northern Lands' night.
Sif was wrapped in a heavy cloak, her silver-white short hair shimmering slightly in the firelight, her cheeks faintly red from the cold night wind, her breathing slightly hurried, as if she had run all the way.
"Sir----" She stood at the doorway, her voice very low.
The room became quiet for a moment.
Only the oil lamp made a soft "puff puff" sound, casting two restless shadows.
"Is something wrong, seeking me out so late?" Louis spoke first, his voice steady and gentle.
Sif pursed her lips, gave him a complex look, then quickly lowered her head, her hands under the cloak tightly clutching her hem.
"Is something wrong?" Louis asked again.
Sif gathered her courage and said, "Do you think I only come to you for official business?"
Louis was stunned, not understanding, his Adam's apple unconsciously moving.
The room was unusually quiet, only the soft flickering sound of the oil lamp could be heard.
Sif took a deep breath, a complex light flashing in her eyes.
"Whoosh—"
She suddenly untied her cloak, and the thick cloak fell to the ground with a "thud."
Louis's pupils suddenly contracted.
Because Sif was only wearing a form-fitting undergarment, her tall, slender figure exposed in the warm light of the oil lamp.
The pale skin unique to Han Yue Tribe maidens glowed with a delicate luster in the dim light, possessing both a wild beauty and a clear sense of shyness.
Her breathing seemed more hurried than before, her cheeks so red they almost dripped blood.
"I, I like you!"
After saying that, she seemed to explode, abruptly turning her head away, clutching her cloak tightly, almost gasping for breath.
"You, don't misunderstand! It's not because you're so great—it's just, it's just me..." Louis stared for a few seconds, looking at this proud little wolf.
Usually calm and composed, she now carried a hint of almost desperate stubbornness, as if she had used all her strength.
A smile unconsciously curved his lips: "So, you're sure you didn't come to rush me for the winter supplies list?"
Sif's already flushed face instantly exploded even more. She snorted coldly, glaring at him: "I really regret not bringing a wolf today—let it bite you directly and see if you can still smile!"
Louis chuckled, finally getting up from the bed, his gaze gradually becoming serious.
"Then—Little White." He spoke slowly, his eyes deepening a few shades, "Did you come today because you want my response?"
Sif took a deep breath, a stubborn blush on her face, but she did not retreat a single step.
"I came to tell you." She gritted her teeth, her voice lowering, "I'm not the kind of person who waits for others to slowly figure things out.
If you don't do anything—then I will leave here. And then, you'll never see me again."
Louis looked at her stubborn expression, his heart warming.
He chuckled softly, the playful glint in his eyes completely fading.
He took a step forward, slowly raised his hand, and his fingertips lightly touched her scattered silver hair behind her ear.
"Sif."
They were almost pressed against each other, both able to hear the other's hurried breathing.
She didn't back away; instead, she instinctively held her breath, her eyes darting away but stubbornly lifting her chin.
"Idiot—" she whispered softly, her voice trembling.
"Hmm." Louis's voice carried a hint of a smile, low, yet extraordinarily gentle.
He slowly pulled her into his embrace, his palm gently encircling her slender waist.
He leaned down close to her ear, his tone carrying a slight smile: "Actually, I also like you—for a long time."
Then, he lowered his head and kissed her.
The kiss was slow but firm, leaving no room for retreat.
It was as if a long-suppressed emotion was finally pouring out without reservation at this moment.
Sif's eyes widened, her body trembling slightly.
She had never imagined that Louis would kiss her so directly.
But soon, she also closed her eyes and trembled as she kissed him back.
Her movements were a bit awkward, like a young wolf on its first hunt, clumsy yet fervent.
Her mind was almost blank, her heart pounding. Is this... what it feels like to like someone?
Her fingers tightly gripped Louis's lapel, as if if she didn't hold on, he would disappear.
Their foreheads touched, their breaths intertwined.
"I was the one who came first—" Sif complained in a low voice, still breathless, her earlobes so red they seemed to drip blood, "But—how did it turn into you taking the initiative?"
Louis chuckled softly, pulled her closer, and with a force that brooked no refusal, carried her to the edge of the bed and sat her down.
"You know," his voice was low and husky, carrying a suppressed emotion, "what the next step—means?"
Sif's heart pounded as if it would burst from her chest, her cheeks burning. She bit her lip, her eyes flickering, but she didn't flinch.
"It means I'm no longer running away." The voice carried resolve, small but incredibly clear.
Sif leaned close to Louis's ear, her azure eyes sparkling.
"It also means—" Her lips pressed against Louis's earlobe, her breath trembling slightly, "—you can't run away either."
The air fell silent, leaving only the increasingly rapid sound of their heartbeats.
The fireplace fire flickered gently, its light dancing on the wall, casting the shadows of their closely entwined figures.
At that moment, the chill of the Northern Lands was no more.
Only their body heat, their fervent breaths, and that emotion that could no longer be hidden remained.
They finally stopped probing with words, and instead, exchanged their long-suppressed emotions with the most genuine touch, the closest proximity.
The bed curtains slowly fell, isolating everything from the outside.
No matter how cold the wind and snow of the Northern Lands were tonight, they could not melt the warmth quietly rising in this room.
