Reincarnated Lord: I can upgrade everything!

Chapter 367 - 367: A Regretful Husband

The gentle orange rays of the sun poured into the room, illuminating the simple yet refined space, where high-quality furniture and exquisite objects seemed to whisper tales of elegance.

Outside, the chirping of birds filled the air, a symphony of melodic trills and cheerful tweets that harmonized with the soft rustling of leaves in the morning breeze.

A man stood before the bed, his snow-white hair still damp from a recent bath, with droplets of water trickling down onto his rugged, battle-hardened physique.

The muscles, honed from countless battles, rippled beneath his skin as he moved. His gaze, however, remained fixed on the neatly folded clothes laid out on the broad mattress, his attention drawn to the crisp white shirt that awaited him.

The scent of green tea wafted in from beyond his door, its subtle bitterness a familiar comfort that seemed to seep into the room.

He picked up the crisp white shirt and began to put it on, the soft fabric a subtle compliment to his finely tailored black breeches.

His knee-high black boots complemented his attire, the polished leather gleaming in the morning light.

As he strapped his sword to his waist, a knock echoed in the room, forcing him to shoot a sidelong glance at the door.

"Come in." Almost immediately, the door opened, allowing a beautiful blonde woman, Cynthia, to walk into the room, her slender fingers grasping a delicate tray that held a single cup.

"My lord…" She dropped the tray onto a table placed beside the wall, her head still lowered in a bow, her golden locks cascading down her back like a river of sunset hues.

As Asher walked over and took a sip of the tea, her pupils shook with great intensity as she awaited his judgment, her eyes fixed on the floor.

It was a well-known fact that Asher barely finished any green tea not prepared by his wife, the grand priestess, whose culinary skills were as renowned as her mystical abilities.

The sound of him gulping thundered in her ears, and in the next moment, it was the sound of the cup lightly hitting the saucer. "Hmm…Almost tastes like hers." Asher's eyes softened, his gaze drifting into the past as nostalgia washed over him.

His thoughts wandered back to the days spent with his wife, the memories of their time together now a distant recollection.

He had taken two weeks to prepare for the battle against the orc horde, then one month and two weeks to journey to Clan El, where he stayed for a week before traveling to Nineveh in two weeks.

Now, a month had passed since his arrival, and the ache of separation had grown.

For almost four months, he hadn't set his eyes on her enchanting face, but this tea was so perfect that it seemed she was the one who made it.

The empty cup reflected in his golden eyes, its delicate porcelain a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and love.

"I am pleased. I shall reward you with 5,000 gold coins." The words hung in the air, a promise of gratitude and appreciation for the small yet significant gesture that had bridged the distance between him and his beloved wife, if only for a fleeting moment.

"Thank you for this honour, My Lord!"

Asher walked out of the room, his lips drawn into a soft smile as the warmth of the moment lingered.

Mary was supposed to return from the academy's site today, and they had booked a meeting at the castle's parlour. Though it was early, he would go sit and wait for her, his anticipation building with each step.

For some reason, Sapphira's face was glued to his mind, forcing his train of thoughts down a line he had never focused on before.

His dream about her child delivery lingered, the possibilities swirling in his mind like a vortex. Would they truly have a child? Would he be of Ashbourne blood or fairy blood?

Both of them had strong bloodlines, but his had become stronger due to Kryos' intervention; however, the chances that the child would be like an Ashbourne or like her hung in the balance.

He traversed the castle's hallway, the soft rustle of his boots on the stone floor echoing through the corridor.

The moment he stepped into the parlour, his pupils trembled at the back view of a gray-haired beauty looking out the window, her slender figure silhouetted against the morning light.

The sound of his entrance spun her toward him, their eyes meeting in a flash of recognition. Their faces reflected in their bright golden eyes, a mirror image of warmth and affection.

Mary devoured the distance between them in a split second, wrapping her hands around him like a koala, her grip tight with a mix of excitement and longing.

"It's almost been eight months since I've seen your face. I heard from Sapphira that you were in a coma for three months." Her eyes moistened, the unshed tears glistening like dew on her lashes.

"I'm fine." He caressed her back for a while, his gentle touch a soothing balm to her frazzled nerves, before they took their seats. Asher leaned back, exhaling heavily, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "Mary, I have—!"

"You want to discuss His Highness' proposal?" She said suddenly, her tone unwavering, not in the slightest, her voice a calm counterpoint to the turmoil that seemed to simmer beneath the surface. "Don't you?"

Asher examined her closely, his gaze piercing as he

The suggestion hung in the air, a gentle breeze that carried the weight of sentiment and meaning. Mary's eyes widened.