Chapter 03. Arrive in The House
Two hours and fifteen minutes later
A horse carriage was seen arriving in front of the fence of a magnificent residence, ancient style, with a very wide yard. The middle-aged man who worked as a coachman could clearly see that several people were guarding there. The guard standing near the gate saw that the carriage carrying the familiar masters and ladies, especially the face of the horse carriage coachman, so without hesitation, began to open the large fence.
The horse carriage was finally able to enter. Before leaving the area, the coachman turned to the guards of about fifteen people. He felt grateful, even though he was drowsy, so he carefully drove the horse carriage to avoid an accident. Now, he and the other two passengers have arrived at their destination safely.
"Good night, Mr. Wront. Thank you for your kind help," said the coachman. He addressed those words to one guard there. He did not forget to nod to the guards who were waiting there so that action was also responded with the same thing.
"Good night. You are welcome, Mr. Zrant. Mr. and Mrs. Writh have arrived? Please come in," said the guard. The person's position was to the right of the gate.
"Yes, they have arrived. Thank you," replied the coachman named Dresden Zrant.
The middle-aged man began to move the reins, so the four-legged animal began to move into the yard. Dresden was already sleepy, but he still tried to keep himself awake because he realized that the safety of the two passengers was in his hands. The residence had a courtyard filled with trees, giving the impression of being in a forest. However, it was not as scary as the situation at the house of Madame Lizhard, the fortune teller.
Tristian already knew that the horse carriage he had been riding had almost arrived at the residence, so he thought for a moment about how to get Lavena off the horse-drawn carriage. The man who loved the family did not want to if his wife woke up and could lose her balance if she forced herself down.
Now, I could not help but carry my wife because it was impossible to wake up the beauty. From the start, she did not want to come along; in fact, she had suggested that we should pay Madame Lizhard to write another prophecy without going there. However, because of my coercion, my soul mate was finally willing to come too, although forced. Forgive your husband, Lavena. You should have been able to rest on a soft bed a long time ago. Instead, you fell asleep in a horse-drawn carriage, Tristian regretted. The well-built man rubbed his wife's face, then kissed her forehead slowly.
Lavena squirmed but had not woken up at all, aka still sleeping soundly. The young mother-to-be's expression was calm and peaceful as if nothing had disturbed the long-lasting rest. The gaze of the tall and burly man now turned to the belly of his beloved life partner, where there was their own offspring.
My daughter, please forgive your father. We both love you. For me, it is impossible to kill at all because parental instinct forbids it. The prophecy mentioned by Madame Lizhard was indeed well known throughout the country, but I am not sure if you will be like that later because the future can change, thought that man who will be a father.
Ten minutes later, the horse-drawn carriage arrived at a magnificent house. There are many statues placed in corners, including on the right and left near the entrance, thus adding to the artistic impression there. The coachman, Dresden, stopped the carriage right in front of the entrance. He got down from where he was, then opened the carriage door.
Tristian, who saw this as soon as possible, looked at Dresden, then signaled to give way a little. The middle-aged man nodded, a sign of understanding. The light in the man's residence came from the many torches placed around the courtyard so that it was bright there.
The man with a beard and thick beard was now trying to carry his life partner, who was pregnant slowly. He made as carefully the movements as possible in order to maintain the balance that they have. After succeeding, the pair of sturdy arms he had immediately carried his beloved wife.
Dresden, who saw this, did not utter a word, for he did not want to interfere in the affairs of Mr. and Mrs. Writh without being asked. Tristian walked slowly into the majestic residence, where the main door to two guards had opened it. He thanked them, then continued walking, carrying his beloved angel in both arms.
The handsome man walked towards the bedroom. But, in his heart, Tristian felt uneasy because he could not help but think about the words of the fortune teller's house, which felt very piercing to the heart. He did not go there without a reason. In addition to orders from the emperor, it has become a tradition. However, as a prospective father, of course, he wanted to know the future of his child in the future.
Lavena is still sleeping. Her beautiful face looked so exhausted because she had traveled a long way. Frankly, this heart is still thinking about meeting Madame Lizhard. What kind of big mistake did we make so that the prediction happened to the child in the womb? My wife and I are of good ancestry, both nobles and no one has ever experienced a descendant of witches in a large family. Why did all this happen to our family? Really, if I think about all that, it makes my heart even more confused, especially if the big family finds out; they will definitely curse the fetus in the womb. No, we cannot tolerate this, of course, because, after all, she comes from our flesh and blood, Tristian thought.
Torchlight was everywhere, so even though it was quiet, light still lit up the contents of the magnificent residence, but it felt desolate. When he reached the last stair to the second floor, Tristian immediately turned right, then stopped at room number five. For a moment, the man seemed to remember something, so the first reaction that appeared on his face was an expression of surprise.
"Damn, the room key is in the trouser pocket, while the wife is still sleeping. How do I get it, huh? Should Lavena's body be lowered slowly first? Hmm... this is difficult. But, let me try it first. Who knows, I can get that thing," he muttered under his breath.
Lavena's husband's right foot accidentally kicked the door, causing it to open by itself. Tristian was surprised because he saw the result of a shot that was not too tight. However, he was able to make the bar open, even though it was locked, before leaving so that no one else could enter it. This moment caused astonishment in the owner's heart of the luxurious residence.
"That is very strange. I am sure, before leaving, the door was locked. In fact, before we went downstairs, Lavena also checked. Let's just say this is a piece of small luck because there is no need to bother taking the key," he said slowly, full of gratitude.
The man, who was a family man, took Lavena, who was in his arms, to enter the room without further ado. Before heading to the bed, the man closed the door with the tip of his right foot so that the door could be closed. Not far from the door, Tristian took off his shoes, then walked to the bed.
When he arrived at the bed, the sturdy right hand tore apart the blanket, then put down his beloved wife, who seemed to be fast asleep. Tristian took off her shoes, which were still attached to the pregnant woman's feet. When finished, he also took the coat that was being worn off. That pair of emerald eyes, now looking at Lavena with love.
I have to change everything the wife wears so that she can rest well. Poor Lavena, because she was willing to travel quite a distance, and she has done it all without complaining. Thank you, darling. I am so happy to have you, he thought happily inside.
Meanwhile, without the well-built man knowing, a beautiful and mysterious woman was observing the direction of Tristian and Lavena's residence. The cold night atmosphere was getting tenser and tenser because most of the residents there were already asleep, and only the guards were on guard and prepared to ward off danger, which could suddenly appear.
"It is the show time," said the mysterious woman.