Early the next morning, Gray left the house early again, continuing his "knight's journey."
Even earlier than Gray was Shelley, as she had been sleepless all night. She sent for all her suitors early and began plotting how to deal with Gray.
However, the focus of today's newspaper was certainly no longer Gray.
"Do you know? Earl Field's army arrived at dawn; they've already stationed themselves outside the city. He himself has also arrived."
"Earl Field? Is that Edward III?"
"Who else could it be?"
"My God, Edward III is here too. Does this mean the civil war is really going to happen?"
"Most likely. Maybe we should pack up and head to the countryside for a while."
The chatter was everywhere on the streets and in the alleys.
Soon, Pas appeared on horseback, stopping Gray, who was wandering aimlessly through the streets.
"Gray, come with me quickly."
"What for?"
"It's urgent, don't ask!"
Two thousand troops—it's not a lot, fewer in number than Count Caspar's forces—but it was all the strength the Field family could muster.
At this point, the three major counts of the Beishier Duchy—Count Caspar, Count Gruglu, and Earl Field—had all assembled their forces. Compared to the fence-sitting Count Gruglu and the battered Count Caspar, Earl Field (Edward III) carried a much clearer stance: he was the only one resolutely supporting Yilin.
But if he's so resolute, what took him so long?
No one knew, and it seemed no one cared.
In any case, he had arrived, bringing all his chips to the table.
It seemed that, to bolster his presence, he had decided not to visit Yilin immediately upon arriving at dawn. Instead, he sent word to notify her, then waited for the sun to rise.
By the time Gray arrived, Yilin was already at the arched bridge leading into the city, flanked by all her most capable knights on horseback. From the bridge to the castle, White City's bustling main street had been entirely closed off by Yilin. No random passerby was allowed to enter.
As a result, the buildings lining the streets were packed with spectators, as were the alleys.
After waiting for about half an hour, Edward III appeared, accompanied by a dozen close attendants and a carriage.
Compared to Count Caspar's greasiness and Count Gruglu's frailty, the appearance of Earl Field was much closer to the ideal knightly image.
A middle-aged man with a burly physique, faintly discernible muscles showing through the contours of his clothing, a chiseled face, and exquisite little mustache—his presence reflected the rugged knightly spirit of constant training even amidst a privileged lifestyle.
His long brown hair had been braided into multiple small strands, gathered at the back into a ponytail. Likely unkempt due to days of travel, the strands appeared somewhat frayed, giving him a slightly disheveled look. However, his bright, piercing eyes more than compensated for any imperfections.
From afar, upon seeing Edward III, Yilin visibly exhaled a sigh of relief and promptly dismounted with a smile to greet him.
The others followed suit, dismounting from their horses.
"Welcome, dear Uncle Field!"
With Yilin's respectful bow, Edward III also dismounted.
"My little niece, your Uncle Field wasn't late, was he?"
"Not at all! Uncle Field's arrival is perfectly timely!" Yilin responded with a smile.
Lowering his voice, Edward III softly asked, "What about that old Gruglu? Has he made his stance clear?"
"Well…" Yilin looked troubled.
"Want me to tie him up and give him a good beating?"
Hearing this, Yilin shrank back in fright.
Seeing Yilin's reaction, Edward III suddenly burst into laughter: "Haha, just kidding, just kidding! But let me tell you, reasoning with some people just doesn't work—you have to use the whip to deal with them. If you ever need help, just let me know. A signal would do."
Saying this, Edward III raised his eyebrows and gave a playful twirl of the whip in his hand.
Yilin hadn't yet recovered her composure when Edward III turned his gaze to Gray, who stood beside her. Eyeing the emblem on Gray's armor, he remarked, "Silver Moon Knight? So this is the famed Silver Moon Knight who gave Caspar so much trouble, correct?"
"Yes, Uncle Field. He has been eagerly awaiting your arrival!"
"Did I? I don't recall even knowing he existed before this," Gray mumbled under his breath.
"Shut up, you idiot! It's called being polite! Got it?" The black cat snapped from within his armor.
Edward III extended his hand, giving Gray's shoulder two hearty pats while his face suddenly darkened: "Hmm, are you sure this is your Silver Moon Knight?"
"What's wrong?" Yilin asked.
"He doesn't seem… very sturdy," Edward III said, gazing skeptically at his hand.
"Is that so?" Yilin replied with an awkward smile.
Of course he wasn't sturdy—inside the armor, he was nothing but bones, cotton, and straw, with a cat hidden to boot. Sturdy was out of the question.
Nonetheless, Earl Field had finally been welcomed.
Amid the cordoned-off, spacious street, the group rode their horses toward the castle in slow procession. Yilin and Earl Field chatted at the front of the parade, while Gray lagged at the rear.
Why was Gray at the back, you ask?
Because he had his eye on that carriage.
It wasn't particularly luxurious or beautiful, but it did have something undeniably strange about it—the entire carriage was black, even down to the wheels. Moreover, the windows were shrouded with black fabric.
In the blazing summer heat, wouldn't this black carriage be sweltering inside?
In this era, most carriages didn't have painted wheels, as any paint would wear off quickly. Thus, such a carriage was one of a kind, and Gray's curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
"What's inside the carriage?"
"How should I know? Don't you have sensing abilities?"
"Can't sense inside; the paint interferes with my magic. Can I open it and take a look?"
"I think you'd better not; it would be terribly rude."
Gray evidently paid no heed to the black cat's warning, as he had already begun sneaking closer to the carriage.
Reach out, pull back. Reach out again, pull back again. Reach further, pull back further.
Left hand, right hand. Left hand again, right hand again. Both hands at once.
Gray switched up his poses repeatedly, making subtle attempts to lift the black fabric and get a peek inside.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for Edward III to notice me. If he sees me trying to lift the fabric and doesn't stop me, wouldn't that mean I can go ahead?"
"Why is your logic always so bewildering?"
Unfortunately, Edward III was too engrossed in his conversation with Yilin to turn around. Not only Edward III, but his attendants were oblivious too, as the carriage lagged at the very back of the group. Only the soldiers guarding the streets noticed Gray's antics—especially when he climbed on top of the carriage.
Still unnoticed. Now what?
Gray quickly organized a new line of thought in his otherwise empty head.
"The main reason I shouldn't lift the black fabric is possibly out of respect, right?"
"Not 'possibly'; it's downright disrespectful."
"But if I lift the black fabric secretly without them knowing, does that mean it's not disrespectful?"
"..."
"I'll just sneak a quick peek—a tiny look will do! Hehehe!"
Brilliant! Gray thought he might as well call himself a genius!
He acted immediately, without much thought—a man of action. Jumping back to his horse, he stretched out his left hand, catching a corner of the black fabric.
Just as he was about to lift it, a sudden voice came from within the carriage.
"What are you doing?" It was a young boy's voice.
"Is there someone inside?" Gray exclaimed, hurriedly retracting his hand.
"Who are you? What are you trying to do? Go away! Someone's trying to lift the curtain—stop him!"
The boy's voice quickly drew the attention of the driver and attendants, who encircled Gray. Even Edward III turned his head to look.
Gray glanced around nervously, trying to feign ignorance. But feigning ignorance was clearly useless at this point—the boy inside the carriage was still shouting.
"What's going on?" Yilin turned her horse around and came closer.
"Baron Gray tried to lift the curtain," one of Edward III's attendants explained.
"Hmm?" Yilin looked at the carriage, then at Gray, her expression full of confusion.
Edward III, following close behind, hastened to explain: "This is my son, Little Jimmy. He's not in good health; the doctor said he can't be exposed to sunlight. Considering this might not end well—or if civil war truly erupts—it wouldn't be wise to leave him at the estate. So I brought him along."
"I see." Yilin smiled and turned her face to address Gray sternly: "Gray, Little Jimmy cannot be exposed to sunlight."
Gray nodded quickly, signaling his understanding.
The surrounding attendants finally sheathed their swords.
After the brief mishap, the group resumed their march. To prevent further trouble from Gray, Yilin grabbed Bone Horse's reins, forcing Gray to walk beside her.
Frustrated, Gray ended up moving from the back of the group to the very front. However, he couldn't help but keep glancing backward, evidently still fixated on the black carriage.
Soon, the procession arrived at the castle.
The carriage door finally opened, but only after two attendants raised specialized black parasols.
From within emerged a boy draped entirely in black cloth—even his face was covered, and there weren't even openings for the eyes.
Guided by a maid, the boy ascended the steps into Yilin's residence, where he removed his black garments.
At last, Gray could see the person inside the carriage.
A remarkably adorable, delicate-looking young boy. He seemed around ten years old, with Yilin's same silvery, slightly curly hair. His features were so refined they didn't seem real, his eyes large and glimmering with childlike innocence. Clad in a dress, he could undoubtedly fool anyone into thinking he was a girl. It was a stark contrast to Edward III's rugged, masculine image.
What stood out even more was his skin—ghastly pale, almost unnaturally so.
Like an adult, he bowed respectfully to Yilin, kissed the back of her hand, and, speaking in somewhat broken speech, said, "Hello, Sister Yilin."
Instantly, Yilin's heart melted.
Who could have guessed that Edward III would have a son so irresistibly cute?