Quick Transmigration: The Journey of Meat Eating C98

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Chapter 98

Standing by the crowded street, Margaret watched the silver-helmeted man, mounted on a magnificent steed, as he wielded his longsword. The air throbbed with the frenzied cheers and shouts of the crowd—men, women, young and old—all chanting Alex’s name without exception. My husband… he’s truly beloved. A mix of pride and an undeniable sense of inadequacy swelled in Margaret’s heart.

The more she learned of Alex’s brilliance, the more she felt unworthy of such a man. Why would the Temple’s Grand Knight, a paragon of justice and sanctity, marry a peculiar, useless mage like me? It wasn’t just Margaret who thought this way; everyone who knew of the marriage shared the same view. There must be some pressure from his family, some compromise that forced Alex to marry Margaret. Each time she witnessed such a scene, this conviction only deepened.

Margert tilted her head back, straining to stand on tiptoe to catch a glimpse of the man on the horse. The morning sun glinted off the halberds held by the knights, their dazzling light almost blinding her. Her eyes burned, and she felt a strange urge to cry. It must just be the sunlight, she thought blankly; it’s so bright.

“Don’t look,” Cecil said, covering Margaret’s eyes with one hand. She ruffled the girl’s disheveled hair. “Let’s go.” Her flaxen eyes were full of understanding and concern, and her typically sharp, heroic features softened immeasurably in that moment.

“Mm-hmm,” Margaret nodded, forcing back the tears welling in her eyes. Cecil took her hand, and the two turned away from the bustling crowd. They didn’t notice the man on horseback who had been scanning the crowd. He finally spotted the familiar gray figure and was about to spur his horse forward, but had to watch helplessly as the girl disappeared.

That day, the Academy was working late, and Margaret didn’t finish until after midnight. She had sent her coachman home early, and Cecil, worried about her traveling alone, offered to escort her home on her horse. Though a woman, Cecil was tall and slender, a full head and a half taller than Margaret. The girl nestled against her friend’s chest, finding comfort even though Cecil’s frame wasn’t particularly broad.

“Cecil,” Margaret said, looking up at her friend. “Thank you.” Over the years, she knew she would have been even more alone without Cecil.

Cecil smiled gently at the young woman, her soft chestnut hair framing features that were already handsome and striking. The smile made her even more captivating.

Alex paced anxiously at the doorway. When he turned around, he saw the two beautiful women gazing at each other, leaning against each other. “Cecil?” His brow immediately furrowed. He tossed the cloak he was holding to a male servant, strode forward in three quick steps, and without a word, wrapped his arm around Margaret’s waist, lifting her from Cecil’s embrace.

“Ah!” Margaret jumped in surprise, then her cheeks flushed with belated embarrassment. “Alex, what are you doing?”

Before Alex could answer, Cecil’s casual voice rang out: “Long time no see, Alex.”

Alex seemed to ignore Cecil’s greeting, his eyes fixed on Margaret. “Working late? If you’re going to be back this late again, at least let me know. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Hmph.” Cecil pouted. “As if anyone would wait around for you to pick them up after you’ve been radio silent for ten days or half a month. By then, the day lilies would have wilted.”

The air around Alex suddenly turned icy. He turned his head, his azure eyes hardening like steel. “Cecil, haven’t your years of noble education taught you one thing? Don’t meddle in the affairs of other couples.”

Cecil grinned, revealing two sharp little fangs. “Oh, dear Alex, let’s set that aside for now. I’d say your noble education has failed to teach you at least one thing: when you’re far from home, you should at least write a letter. Don’t leave your lonely wife at home worrying.” She raised a disdainful eyebrow. “You look perfectly healthy and full of energy, not like you’re so gravely injured that you can’t even muster the strength to write a letter.”

“You!…” Alex was speechless. He stole a furtive glance at Margaret, then glared furiously at Cecil. Neither backed down, their swords drawn, tension crackling in the air, ready to explode.

Margaret, held tightly in Alex’s arms, looked from her husband’s frosty face to her friend’s displeased expression. Never eloquent, she grew flustered, her words stumbling. “You, you two, don’t… don’t fight!”

“Hmph!” Cecil snorted coldly. “Who would argue with such a heartless, unfeeling scoundrel?”

Alex’s temperature plummeted. “I wouldn’t bother with someone being unreasonable.”

His words only fueled Cecil’s anger. Seeing the two about to come to blows, Margaret, in a panic, reached out and covered the man’s thin lips with her delicate hand. “Alex, stop! Don’t say another word!”

Alex saw the crimson flush on her anxious face. Even behind her thick, oversized glasses, her black, crystal-like eyes still shone brightly. His brow softened, and the icy aura around him vanished instantly. “Alright, I’ll listen to you. Let’s go back inside.” His voice dropped low, and whether intentional or not, his warm lips brushed against her palm, making Margaret’s face turn even redder.

Without another glance at Cecil, he turned and carried his small wife back to the house. Unable to break free from his iron-like embrace, Margaret could only poke her head out and shout at Cecil, “Cecil, go home now! I’ll see you at the Academy tomorrow!”

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