The restaurant where Augustus was seated was of post-Baroque architectural style. Its central outward-projecting structure featured a triple-arched window design; two rows of large windows were adorned with delicate triangular pediments and graceful cornices, and the façade of the building maintained a unified and orderly style.
Judging from the restaurant's splendid architectural design and the family crest on its doorway, it was clearly a modest investment made by one of the Confederacy's Old Families. Its interior was clean and tidy, and all the service staff had received relatively professional training, ensuring that their quality was not uneven.
Everyone believed that Tyrador's native nobility were the most powerful figures on the planet, but in truth, in cities like New Canaan, ninety percent of the land belonged to the Confederacy's Old Families—they were the largest real estate owners and the main investors in key industries.
There were not many people in the restaurant, most being tourists visiting New Canaan—at least half of whom were Augustus's bodyguards and well-trained agents.
These Revolutionary Army soldiers, tasked with guarding the Marshal and always ready to die for that purpose, all bore stern expressions. Even when enjoying a meal, their knife-and-fork movements were as precise as wielding blades, and the stone-hard faces and bulging arm muscles constantly declared to everyone around just how difficult these tough men were to provoke.
The female lead of the date was not entirely pleased by the presence of so many people nearby, yet she did not wish to let her personal desires place the Revolutionary Army Marshal in danger. Too many were willing to die to protect Augustus—but a leader like him existed only once. If he were gone, the disintegration of the Revolutionary Army would merely be a matter of time.
However, no matter how serious the expressions of these Revolutionary Army soldiers—men who had crawled through countless battlefields—might appear, all of them were deeply concerned about the progress of this date. In any case, this event would surely become something they could boast about to their descendants many years later.
Augustus had not made any special effort to dress up for the occasion; after all, the few ceremonial uniforms in his wardrobe were enough to handle any date.
He wore a black stand-collar jacket, holding a glass of wine in his hand with an air of ease and confidence, a faint smile on his face, as if he were long accustomed to such scenes, and the red-haired girl before him was merely one among the many beauties surrounding him.
In reality, however, Augustus was not particularly experienced in dating beautiful girls. Based on his experiences over the years, he should have been far more adept at raising his cup and drinking heartily with the rough men of the barracks.
Sitting opposite him, the female lead, Sarah Kerrigan, was breathtakingly beautiful. Her beauty was completely different from that of the noble ladies of Korhal IV or Tarsonis—devoid of any trace of affectation.
Sarah Kerrigan wore a custom-made black evening dress with pleated lace trim. In this black gown, the Umojan fashion designer's mastery of translucent silk fabrics had reached perfection. The smooth, form-fitting dress clung to Kerrigan's exquisite curves, its wavelike hem cascading down to her ankles.
At the back of the gown extended a flared fishtail train, which, when Kerrigan sat down in her chair, unfurled like a peacock's tail, dazzling in its beauty.
This was a gift Augustus had given her for her seventeenth birthday—and also the first birthday gift she had received since the age of five.
Kerrigan was not fond of fancy clothing or other glittering ornaments. Her attire could be described as simple, often switching only between military uniforms and Ghost combat suits. But that did not mean she disliked such things in her heart. Deep down, Kerrigan was still a little girl who longed to be protected.
"At last, today isn't so busy for you," Kerrigan said, looking at Augustus across from her.
"You can finally take a proper look at me."
Kerrigan's feelings of affection for Augustus had already taken root the moment they first met. Augustus had saved her during the darkest period of her life—like a beam of light piercing through her tragic and shadowed existence.
And deep in his heart, Augustus had never regarded Kerrigan as an instrument of assassination or an object to be discarded after use. He truly treated her as an equal, as a person deserving of respect. Augustus was likely the only man in this world who was completely unafraid of Kerrigan, and his act of appointing her as his personal bodyguard was the best proof of that.
After two years of time and experience, in Kerrigan's heart, Augustus had already become someone absolutely irreplaceable.
This was by no means something extraordinary—after all, almost every girl who met Augustus loved him. Augustus not only possessed a striking leader's charisma but was also a man capable of giving women a sense of reliability and safety.
Augustus revealed his signature smile as he admired Kerrigan's shoulder-length fiery red hair, her bare, rounded shoulders and arms, and the faint V-shape outlined by the strapless corset.
Kerrigan's attire was clearly in the style of the noblewomen of Korhal IV; her arms were adorned with lambskin gloves extending past the elbows, and her shoulders were draped with an almost transparent silk shawl, which added a touch of mysterious and unknown allure.
Ordinarily, Kerrigan always tied her long hair into a neat ponytail—necessary for the near-operative nature of her work. But now, her permed crimson hair cascaded like waves over her bare shoulders.
"Radiant," Augustus offered his evaluation.
"How do I compare to Lisa Cassidy, Ariel Hanson, Clara Terra, and Lilith Holt?"
"None of them are as beautiful as you are today." Augustus smiled and, with impeccable grace, took a plate of dessert from the hand of a nearby waiter and passed it to Kerrigan.
"Is that truly what you think?" The trouble with dating a psionic was that she knew exactly what was in your mind. Thus, every sweet word and solemn vow had to withstand a genuine test. Most importantly, the tender emotions and yearning to explore the unknown within each other that young men and women usually experienced on a date vanished completely.
"Of course," Augustus said openly. "What else could I possibly think? Bringing up other ladies during a date is not a wise move—I must remind you of that, Miss Kerrigan."
Very few people knew which woman Augustus truly liked. Rather than saying that there were too many women appearing around him to tell the difference, it would be more accurate to say that he never showed any special affection toward any particular one.
Augustus spent far more time with his brothers, soldiers, and in the combat command room than he ever did with women. His generals could even use that as evidence to claim that Augustus loved Harnack more than Kerrigan.
However, Kerrigan knew clearly that Augustus did like her. That feeling was quite strange—almost as if Augustus had liked this girl even before meeting her.
Every time—every single time Kerrigan read that blush-inducing thought in Augustus's mind, she felt it was incredible.
It was almost as if Augustus had loved Kerrigan in a previous life.
"Then, how else will you praise me?" Kerrigan stood up, lifting her skirt slightly and turning in a gentle spin; her Flamming-style dress fluttered like petals in motion.
The physical training Ghost operatives underwent had refined Kerrigan's figure to near perfection. The custom-tailored black evening gown rose and fell along the S-shaped curves of her body, extraordinarily seductive.
"You are perfect, Sarah." Augustus set down his wine glass, smiling as he looked at Kerrigan.
"What would you like to eat?" Then, Augustus picked up the menu again, his finger gliding over several desserts, fried foods, and expensive wines.
However, Augustus did not receive the answer he expected. When he raised his head to look for it, the fragrance of perfume washed over him—and the lipstick-colored lips, red as flame, pressed against his own.
The girl's kiss was so inexperienced and clumsy that it seemed excessively passionate and fiery. It was a long, breath-stealing kiss; the red-haired girl with her fiery curls braced both hands on the table, and two strands of hair hanging down beside her cheeks brushed teasingly against Augustus.
They kissed as if there were only one minute left in their lives.
When Kerrigan finally released Augustus, her face was flushed red and her breathing quickened from the suffocating deep kiss.
Augustus's skill made Kerrigan tremble.
An ill-timed whistle from a bystander who lacked any sense of tact made Kerrigan even more embarrassed.
Sarah Kerrigan had always been a woman of strong self-control and a calm mind, yet in everyday life she possessed a fiery temper. Anyone who provoked this Ghost operative would be met either with a bullet or with words as cold and sharp as a blade.
But now, Kerrigan truly looked like a shy young girl.
"You're much more forward than I expected," Augustus laughed heartily.
"Your methods of toying with women are always so clever. If I hadn't kissed you first, you would never have kissed me," Kerrigan said angrily as she sat down, dejectedly staring at her delicate red shoes.
"I never toy with anyone," Augustus said with a smile as he savored the kiss. "Where did you even hear those rumors? I have certainly not tasted all the noble ladies and mistresses of Tarsonis—I'm sure it was that bastard Harnack who said it. He's just jealous of me."
"How would I know? I'm not you," Kerrigan said. "You always have some secrets you keep from me."
"When it comes to loving you, I hold nothing back," Augustus said sincerely.
"I swear, you're the first girlfriend I've ever had in this life," he said.
"Then I hope I'll be the last," Kerrigan said, her face still red.
Augustus stood up and took Kerrigan's slender hand, gloved in black. "Let's go back."
"Back where?" Kerrigan knew the meaning behind Augustus's words.
"I can sense your ugly, primitive, animal-like intense surface thoughts, really…"
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