A faint smile played on Liam's lips as he took the wreath from the peddler.
He gave it a gentle shake in the sunlight.
Instantly, a surge of purple mana poured down, completely enveloping the wreath.
By the time the mana dissipated, the wreath reappeared, its petals looking even more glossy and plump, the bow on it now more vibrantly colored.
"Ah, what magic is this, Your Excellency? I've never seen anything like it," the peddler stammered in astonishment, clearly baffled.
"Forgive my ignorance, but I thought mages usually needed a staff as a medium to cast spells? Except for demons, that is."
"Are you saying I'm a wicked demon?"
Liam took the wreath, his tone turning sharp.
"It's just a simple spell to nourish plants. For something this trivial, I hardly need to bother with a staff."
"No, no, not at all!"
"Enough. Hurry up and give me my change. My little one seems quite fond of this wreath, and I'd like to put it on her soon."
"My apologies, Your Excellency, I spoke out of turn."
The peddler hurriedly apologized, quickly counting out the coins.
"Here you are. I've taken ten copper coins."
"Now get lost!"
Finally rid of the peddler, Liam smiled meaningfully.
He crouched down, holding the delicate wreath in both his large, well-defined hands, and held it up against Celia's neck.
The wreath was small and exquisite, a perfect fit for her.
Her neck was pale and slender, looking as if the slightest pinch would leave a red mark.
Not that he needed to imagine it.
Liam had already verified that it indeed marked easily.
On that incredibly fair and fragile skin, the traces were very noticeable.
Celia bit her lower lip, then subtly loosened the bite, a faint blush on her cheeks.
Her expression clearly showed she wasn't happy about this.
Of course she wasn't.
Liam was her husband, yet now he was treating her like a... and even holding this wreath against her neck, about to put it on her or something.
She wasn't a...
And it was so embarrassing...
So unfair...
The wreath was almost touching her skin.
Under the sunlight, the petals reflected tiny, scattered spots of light and carried a faint, fresh floral scent.
It wasn't cold at all.
Celia blinked, her eyes moist, filled with pure grievance, like a little butterfly about to have its wings touched.
Her voice trembled with the threat of tears, "Lord Liam... Wah... Am I not your wife anymore...?"
Having become a female elf and spent a month with a man, she had grown accustomed to the identity of a wife.
So much so that every time she thought of herself as the babies' mother and Liam as the babies' father, her heart would swell with happiness, often making her secretly giggle with joy...
Elves naturally developed a strong sense of attachment to the men who had... conquered them.
This was something Celia, originally a male elf, couldn't help either.
Now, a month later, having been conquered countless times, from her body to her mind, she completely belonged to Liam.
She was utterly dependent on her husband...
Though sometimes, faced with her husband's domineering nature, she couldn't help but feel a little conflicted about gender issues.
But whenever he held her gently, those small conflicts would vanish in an instant.
Deep down, in a place Celia herself hadn't even realized, she actually enjoyed being a wife, being Liam's adorable wife, and yearned for his doting affection.
Click—
A warmth settled around her neck as the flower-adorned wreath settled securely around the girl's neck.
"Mmm~ Adorable, as expected."
Liam's voice was low, husky, and magnetic—the kind that could make a teenage girl's heart flutter just by hearing it.
As he spoke, his warm breath gently fanned across her face.
Celia usually didn't have much of a reaction to this voice, but when things were quiet...
Especially on nights after... when she was held tightly in his strong arms, listening to this voice tell her stories to lull her to sleep, it felt incredibly safe and secure.
Celia raised her small, pale hand to the fragrant wreath around her neck.
Her fingertips lightly brushed the petals.
She didn't want to pull it off; she just found it novel.
Faced with the man's undisguised, utterly doting gaze, she shamefully averted her gaze.
"Not my wife?"
His voice held a dangerous edge.
"You dare think that?"
"Even if one day you decide you no longer wish to be my beloved wife, I will still... keep you firmly by my side."
"I... I understand!"
"I just wanted to see my adorable little wife wearing a wreath. Isn't it delightful to see one's princess adorned with a ring of flowers?"
"Delighted... Princess..."
Celia's lips trembled slightly.
On her tear-streaked face, those large, moist, pure eyes held both confusion and a dawning realization.
Liam had called her his princess.
Perhaps a young girl would be thrilled, but Celia felt her heartbeat quicken—after all, Liam was the most formidable person in her heart...
Wait, he seemed a bit...
???
So that's what it was?
So it was...
Liam leaned close to her tear-stained face, a faint, composed smile curling his lips.
"Come now, call me 'Master'."
"No way!"
Celia bristled, her face instantly flushing red to the tips of her ears, burning fiercely.
Even though she knew this 'Master' was more of a joke, a bit of teasing, and the wreath held no binding contract...
But little Celia usually found it hardest to be open, rarely even calling him 'Husband' except during...
And now he was asking her to call him 'Master'.
It was so hard to say...
Liam lowered his deep, intense eyes, pinching the soft flesh of the girl's cheek, his tone heavy.
"So you mean you're unwilling to call me that?"
"M-Master!"
Hearing his tone, she blurted it out in a panic...
Sometimes, when he was too domineering and pushed too hard, Celia would genuinely get scared.
Like right now... she really didn't like Liam like this, so severe.
It felt like if she didn't call him that the next moment, he might abandon her, his pitiable little elf, right here on the spot.
Actually, if he had coaxed her a bit more gently, perhaps she would have said it quickly...
After all, Celia's bottom line for her husband was very low.
She usually agreed to whatever he said, not just because she was afraid of making him angry.
Another point was that she was already the little elf he had conquered, and she liked her husband very much.
"A lovely sound."
Liam's crimson pupils dilated, his gaze so intense it seemed about to melt, his rough hand gently stroking the girl's cheek, his voice warm.
"It makes me want to squeeze you to death even more."
Celia gave a slight tremble, feeling the warmth on her cheek and the man's words.
"I... I... don't want to die yet..."
She knew Liam liked her, that's why he said such things, but it still made her feel a little uneasy.