Time flew quickly, and a year passed in the blink of an eye.
During this year, Domrémy village developed completely toward a better future.
Everyone gradually became wealthier, able to fill their stomachs and afford proper places to live.
About half a year ago, Laurent and Jeanne d'Arc finally said farewell to the straw piles and returned to sleeping on actual beds.
At the time, Laurent had even joked about feeling slightly reluctant.
Of course, it had only been lip service.
If he truly had to go back to that, there's no way he'd willingly agree.
"How about this? It's the clothes I bought for you earlier."
Now that the village had some wealth, whenever the merchant teams went out for trade, Laurent would ask them to bring things back.
But this time, besides the clothing, he had bought something else as well—though he couldn't give that to her right now.
He'd grown tired of seeing Jeanne dressed every day like an ordinary village girl. This time, he specifically asked the merchants to bring back some decent clothing.
Over this past year, some English soldiers had still come occasionally to forcibly take food. Every time this happened, the villagers would pretend to be poor, complying reluctantly.
Although these forced contributions sometimes strained the village's supplies, at least it was far better than before, when everyone starved together.
The war wasn't so easily brought to an end.
In Laurent's memory, the Hundred Years' War between England and France definitely wasn't something that could end in three or four years.
Actually, he didn't care much about that—large-scale wars had little to do with an ordinary person like him.
Besides, wars like these couldn't easily be resolved, not even centuries later, in his original time. It was a threshold impossible to cross.
Sometimes he even thought, why not simply take over a region himself and force an end to it?
But that remained merely a passing thought. After all, territorial and economic issues were too complicated.
Although England was a constitutional monarchy, Laurent himself couldn't quite recall whether fifteenth-century England already had this system.
His memory was muddled; he wasn't great at history. He vaguely remembered it might have begun in the seventeenth century? As for the wars Jeanne would later influence in France—he knew even less.
Forget it. Thinking so much was pointless anyway. It wasn't his business.
"Can…can I really wear this?"
Jeanne clearly wasn't comfortable with clothing meant for nobles. She didn't even know how to properly wear this kind of elaborate dress.
"You can at least try, right?"
Since he'd bought it, Laurent was determined she'd wear it.
No joke—this time he had specially asked those merchants to bring back a wedding dress, a suit, and even a diamond ring.
Everything was prepared.
Even Uncle Jacques had secretly lent a hand.
For this marriage proposal, Laurent planned to do something spectacular.
This was a turning point. Jeanne's words from before made him feel the success rate was very high.
"I'll give it a try."
She picked up the clothes, examining them hesitantly.
Laurent teased her deliberately:
"If you can't figure it out, maybe I can help you put it on?"
Jeanne immediately stuck out her tongue at him.
"You've learned bad things from those guys!"
"Haha, what's wrong with that?"
Looking at her flawless figure, Laurent struggled to believe the legendary Holy Maiden of France was such a beautiful girl.
No wonder England lost repeatedly for seemingly inexplicable reasons. Now, he even suspected they simply couldn't bear to hurt her.
Jeanne d'Arc truly was number one in all the world.
When she finished changing and stood before him, Jeanne looked somewhat bashful.
"Laurent, I don't think these clothes suit me."
She seemed unsure of herself.
"No, no, no, my dear Jeanne, you look infinitely more beautiful now. Those dirty old clothes really should be tossed away."
He circled around her, repeatedly clicking his tongue in admiration.
He hadn't noticed before, but seeing Jeanne dressed properly in this elegant gown now, she really was extraordinarily lovely.
A girl like this shouldn't be anywhere near a battlefield.
"I still think the old clothes were easier for work."
"Ahh."
Laurent clicked his tongue. This girl's country bumpkin personality truly was hopeless.
"Relax. Right now, you're just like a flower in full bloom. Get used to it, Jeanne."
She tentatively spun around.
"It really is very pretty. Thank you, Laurent."
Laurent didn't say anything. Instead, he silently took out another dress, one with an open-back design.
"My dear Jeanne, if you really want to thank me, surely you wouldn't refuse to try this one on as well, right?"
Jeanne stared curiously at the dress in his hands. When she realized what kind it was, her cheeks flushed red.
"You're becoming worse and worse, Laurent!"
"Hahaha."
Inside the familiar wheat fields, the lively voices of the two rang out clearly—just like when they were children.
Domrémy's nights weren't usually lively, but tonight was special.
Originally, Laurent planned to propose in front of everyone, witnessed by the whole village, but after further consideration, he decided it was something he wanted to do alone.
After tricking Jeanne into wearing suitable clothes, the two lay down on a familiar haystack, looking up at the starry night sky.
Yes, tonight should've been like this.
Gazing at the vast universe, imagining a beautiful future, perhaps under these stars, he was also shining quietly.
"Laurent, have you ever seen an angel…?"
In the quiet night, Jeanne's soft voice drifted to his ears.
He didn't reply.
Slowly turning her head toward him, Jeanne continued gently:
"They shine brilliantly like the sun, so dazzling you can't see their features clearly. But even so, you still understand how sacred they are."
Laurent remained silent. This time, Jeanne no longer tried to avoid the topic.
"You knew it a long time ago, didn't you, Laurent?"
"Knew what?"
The girl sat up.
"I want to save this country."
Hearing those words, Laurent suddenly began laughing.
"Hahaha, Jeanne, you must've gone mad. Is it this beautiful night that made you spout such unrealistic nonsense? Today, out of the kindness of my heart, I'll overlook your ridiculous jokes and won't laugh at you."
"Laurent, you know I'm not joking."
Her face carried a gentle smile, yet somehow this smile unexpectedly made Laurent's anger flare up. Hidden from Jeanne's view, he clenched his fists tightly.
"I want to save this country, to rescue the people suffering from war. Laurent, we've experienced these hardships ourselves. Even now, countless others like us are enduring them. Perhaps they're praying, perhaps living with hope or despair—"
"That's none of your business!"
Jeanne slowly shook her head.
"I want us to have a better future."
But in the end, she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth.
In that future she envisioned, she absolutely had to set out on this journey—otherwise Laurent, the man she loved deeply, would spend the rest of his life in pain.