Chapter 164

Chapter 164

Evan looked at the salve, bandages, and mini cherry cake on the stone table, his fingertips gently brushing the cool edge of the porcelain plate. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, tender and satisfied. He didn’t need to guess—these were all prepared for him by Sara. That thoughtfulness and care instantly wiped away the fatigue and tension lingering from the battle, filling his heart with warmth.

He picked up the green herbal ointment, unscrewed the cap, and a fresh herbal scent hit his nose. Carefully squeezing out a bit, he applied it to the scrapes on his arm. The moment the ointment touched his skin, a cool sensation spread through him, and the dull ache in his scrapes seemed to fade a lot. As he gently rubbed it in, his eyes landed on the cherry cake on the table, his eyes brimming with joy.

After applying the ointment, Evan carefully wrapped his wounds with the bandages, then picked up the silver fork and took a bite of the cherry cake. The sweetness of the cream and the tartness of the cherries blended perfectly in his mouth, the texture delicate and soft—exactly his favorite flavor. Leaning back in the rattan chair, he savored the cake while gazing at the flower wall. The warm sunlight bathed him, the scents of flowers and books mingling in the air, filling him with contentment and happiness. He knew Sara might not be there at the moment, but this heartfelt gesture had already filled the space, bringing him an unprecedented sense of warmth.

Evan slowly finished the cherry cake, the sweet taste still on his tongue, but a faint sense of loss crept into his chest. He looked out the window; the once-bright sky had deepened, and the sunset filtered through the glass dome, dyeing the roses on the flower wall a warm orange. The light in the library gradually dimmed.

He waited another hour or so, occasionally glancing toward the stairway, hoping to see that familiar head of black hair, but it never appeared. With a soft sigh, Evan cleared the empty plate and used ointment from the table, arranging them neatly. He carefully folded Sara’s note and tucked it into his pocket. He knew Sara might have been delayed by something important, but it was already too late. He had to claim his mission reward tomorrow and couldn’t wait any longer.

Evan took one last look at the dazzling flower wall and the traces left on the stone table, his eyes full of reluctance to leave. Then he turned and slowly descended the stairs, leaving the library and heading toward his dormitory. As night fell, the campus lights were on, casting long shadows under the dim yellow glow. The lingering scent of roses made him glance back at the library, silently thinking: Next time, I have to thank Sara in person.

At that moment, Sara was at the empire’s most exclusive, luxurious private club—the “Starry Pavilion.” Unlike the warm tranquility of the library, this place exuded extreme wealth and nobility. The club’s doors were made of brass but plated with gold, engraved with intricate star patterns. Two tall, black-suited attendants stood at the entrance, well-trained and sharp-eyed, maintaining just the right level of respect for every guest.

Inside, it felt like stepping into a palace. The floor was covered with silk carpets from the East, embroidered with exquisite dragon patterns, so soft it felt like walking on clouds. The walls were adorned with world-renowned oil paintings, each worth a fortune, their frames made of pure silver and inlaid with tiny gems that sparkled under the crystal chandeliers.

Rare items from the empire and its colonies were casually used as ordinary furnishings. In the corner stood a massive ivory sculpture from the southern colonies, carved with lifelike tropical animals. The dining tables were covered with tablecloths woven from deep-sea pearls from a western island nation, set with pure gold utensils edged with rubies and sapphires. Even the trays used by the attendants to serve drinks were carved from whole pieces of emerald, translucent and glowing with a warm luster.

The air was filled with a faint, soothing fragrance, made from rare spices and polar ice lotuses, relaxing the mind and body. The club’s patrons were few, mostly nobles, wealthy merchants, and high-ranking Supernaturals of the empire. Dressed in elegant gowns and suits, they held crystal goblets, chatting in low voices with composed, noble smiles.

Sara, wearing a tailored black suit, sat in a booth by the window. Unlike his gentle, languid demeanor in the library, his eyes were sharp now, exuding a powerful aura. Across from him sat a man with golden hair and blue eyes, dressed in a magnificent gown.

On the table between them was a bottle of rare wine from the northern snow mountains, its crystal bottle revealing a deep purple-red liquid that shimmered enticingly under the light.

The crystal chandelier in the booth cast a soft glow, falling on Carlos Wellington’s golden hair, making it gleam. He had the typical noble features of the Sala Empire—a high nose bridge, a sharply defined jaw, and deep blue eyes like the ocean. Those eyes were now fixed on Sara, the “tenderness” in them so thick it seemed ready to overflow, as if it would envelop the person across from him in the next moment.

“Dear Sara, it’s never easy to get a meeting with you,” Carlos said, his voice low and gentle, deliberately slow, each word coated in honey, enough to make anyone ordinary sink into it. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his fingertips lightly tapping the crystal wine bottle. His gaze traveled from Sara’s brows to his clasped hands, his tone dripping with barely concealed intimacy. “My people ran back and forth three times before you agreed to see me. Is it the busy work of organizing the academy’s books, or… are you deliberately sulking with me?”

Sara sat upright in the booth, his black suit accentuating his straight shoulders. Faced with Carlos’s affectionate demeanor, his face showed no reaction. He simply lifted the goblet in front of him, gently swirling the purple-red wine, his eyes as cold as a frozen lake. “Your Highness, if you have something to say, say it directly. My time is limited.”

Carlos seemed accustomed to his coldness. Instead of being displeased, he smiled even more “tenderly.” He reached out, intending to touch Sara’s wrist, but Sara subtly avoided it. Carlos’s hand froze mid-air, then he casually withdrew it, picking up his own goblet to take a sip. His tone, however, gradually carried a hint of pressure. “I heard you’ve been spending a lot of time lately with a student from the Imperial Knight Academy. Evan Noah, is it?”

Sara’s fingers holding the goblet paused slightly. He looked up at Carlos, a note of wariness in his eyes. “Your Highness is investigating me?”

“How could that be called an investigation?” Carlos chuckled, a hint of calculation flashing in his blue eyes. “I’m just concerned about you. You know, your paternal family’s industries have run into some trouble in the southern colonies lately—several plantations were attacked by local rebels, and the Night Watch temporarily halted your cargo shipments. The losses are considerable.”