"What is this?" Olivia's voice had a note of genuine bewilderment as she stared at the structure before them, her trained knight's eyes taking in every detail with growing amazement.
The house stood like something from a fever dream in the midst of the modest village dwellings that seemed to mock the humble cottages surrounding it.
It reminded her of Lord Aldan's estate in its grandeur, yet there was something distinctly different about it—something more personal, more intimate in its design. Where Aldan's mansion spoke of inherited privilege and generational wealth, this house whispered of careful planning and individual vision.
I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to reconcile what she was seeing with what she knew about our simple village life. The truth was, I had built it myself—every stone laid with my own hands. But explaining that to a royal guard who barely believed a village boy could rescue a princess? That conversation could wait.
