Chapter 345

"That's right, Miss Scarlett, this is my Fiery Sheep!"

Before Doyle could answer, Gervas smiled and affirmed it first.

"Compared to that thing called Fluff Rabbit, my Fiery Sheep is undoubtedly the best for winter!"

"After all, you can't hug a Fluff Rabbit for warmth every day—what if it defecates on you?"

"But with Fiery Sheep, you simply shear their wool, make it into clothing, and wear it anytime, anywhere for warmth."

"Besides, this one's a male Fiery Sheep—it can breed dozens, even hundreds of Fiery Sheep offspring!"

"The wool harvested will let Catherine change outfits weekly—she'll have enough to wear through over a dozen winters!"

Are you serious?

What do you mean by defecating on you?

That's just disgusting...

Liam's face flushed red; he wanted to storm forward and beat the damn noble to a pulp.

Yet, the gift he presented utterly obliterated Liam's.

Even Scarlett now stared intently at the Fiery Sheep inside the wooden box.

She no longer thought the black, sooty creature ugly.

It was strangely captivating.

"Catherine, are you satisfied with this gift?"

Catherine pressed her red lips together; though she knew it was an act, a strange feeling stirred within her.

"I'm very satisfied—thank you so much, Gervas!" Catherine gazed at him with heartfelt gratitude.

Gervas, pleased, waved his hand, signaling Catherine's servant to take the Fiery Sheep away.

After all, it was a living creature—he couldn't have Catherine handle it herself.

"Migen, continue!"

"There's more?"

When Gervas spoke again,

Scarlett's beautiful eyes turned toward him with unusual interest; her earlier disdain had lessened.

It wasn't surprising she changed her attitude so quickly.

Females are drawn to strength, especially in this rigidly stratified noble world.

Gervas's display of a warrior's return, in a world where "showing off and humiliating rivals" had no established concept, was an absolute kill shot against many snobbish noble ladies.

Soon, Gervas's subordinate brought forward another wooden crate.

But why did this crate look familiar?

As everyone puzzled, Maurice's face suddenly changed.

He had recognized the square, flat wooden box.

Wasn't this the box for the Magic Fan?

"That's right—I believe you've all guessed it: this is the wooden box for the Magic Fan. So, my third gift to Catherine is also a Magic Fan!" Gervas said with a satisfied smile.

"Another Magic Fan?" The crowd was stunned and confused.

Didn't Maurice just say they were hard to get?

But Gervas didn't pause: "Of course, ladies and gentlemen, Magic Fans differ from one another..."

Gervas opened the crate, revealing a Magic Fan of pure silver, adorned with gilded floral patterns.

"This..."

Had Maurice's iron Magic Fan not been shown earlier, the crowd might not have been so awed.

After all, those present had seen gilded ornaments—even pure gold ones—some even owned them in their families.

But with the iron Magic Fan as comparison, this silver one was the very embodiment of elegance.

Side by side, one was a serf, the other a noble.

"This... this can't be..." Maurice's face was filled with disbelief.

His iron Magic Fan had been painstakingly purchased by his father in the capital.

Had he not learned Catherine was a scion of the Hernade family, his father would never have let him bring such a gift.

But what was this silver one?

"Lord Maurice, nothing is impossible—you probably don't know, but all Magic Fans are now being made from brass!"

"The higher-end ones? Mine—this Silver Magic Fan—costs about fifty gold coins each!"

As he spoke, Gervas flipped the switch; instantly, a strong gust of wind erupted, proving this was no mere decoration.

Then Gervas presented the gift to Catherine once more.

With that, Gervas's gifts were all delivered.

Yet, though only three, they utterly crushed the confidence of several noble young lords.

Among the five, Dant and Maurice's gifts had been the most valuable.

Gervas had overshadowed them all; the other two were irrelevant.

"Gentlemen, do you still think I was deliberately belittling you just now? Especially you, Lord Maurice—I told you, I truly couldn't hold back!"

"You—" Maurice was seething with rage.

Yet these young lords didn't, as in his past life, immediately lash out in violent anger.

After all, they were all nobles.

"Miss Catherine, thank you for your hospitality—I have urgent business and must take my leave!" With that, Maurice strode straight toward the gate.

"Miss Catherine, I too have matters to attend to—farewell!"

Seeing this, Dant and the other youths could no longer stay; they too quickly took their leave.

"Maurice, Dant..." Doyle and Scarlett rose at once and chased after them.

This task had been entrusted to them by their families; seeing this outcome, they were naturally anxious.

Catherine, however, once again softened her cold demeanor, smiling faintly: "Farewell, everyone!"

As she spoke, Catherine stood up.

As hostess, she ought to see them off.

But her pace was deliberately slow, as if waiting for them to get far enough away.

By the time she reached the inner castle gate, the servants had already brought the horses; Maurice and the others had boarded their carriages.

"Cousin Catherine, Maurice and the others are preparing to depart—I'll escort them back with Scarlett. We're taking our leave too!"

Scarlett and Doyle had clearly failed to dissuade them.

Catherine was delighted: "Cousin Doyle, Cousin Scarlett, please give my regards to Grandfather!"

Soon, the noble youths departed, followed by Doyle and Scarlett.

The entire castle fell silent.

"Phew! They're finally gone!"

At that moment, Catherine let out a long breath.

Gervas found it amusing—this cold goddess had moments of intense pressure too.

"Catherine, you're not angry that I drove them away, are you?"

Catherine turned to him with a complex gaze: "Gervas, I should be thanking you."

"By the way, why did you come here? Why bring so many fine gifts? Are you planning to visit some noble in Iron Wolf City?"

"What if I said I came here specifically to help you out? Would you believe me?"

A flash of light passed through Catherine's eyes; she gazed deeply at Gervas: "I believe you."

Damn! You just believe that?

Gervas was stunned: "Catherine, don't you wonder how I knew they were coming, and how I prepared all these gifts in advance?"

"I don't want to ask—but if you say it, I believe you. You once saved me this way."

The room fell silent.

Night had fully fallen; with guests gone, servants dispersed to their duties.

Now, the two stood close—close enough to hear each other's breath.

Catherine's final words had cast a faint air of intimacy over the scene.

Gervas stared at the breathtakingly beautiful face before him, his throat unconsciously swallowing.

"If that's so, shouldn't you thank me?"

"How would you like me to thank you?" Catherine's sapphire eyes locked onto Gervas.

Damn! Gervas silently exclaimed.

Thud!

Against his better judgment: "How about... a kiss?"