20demayo Chapter 568: Peaceful life
Chapter 568: Peaceful life
The warm sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the living room, casting a soft golden glow across the room.Brandon was sitting comfortably on the large couch with one arm casually draped around Freya’s shoulders.
Freya, still in her loose nightgown that gently hugged her pregnant belly, looked at the three women across from them.
She turned her head slowly toward Brandon, a sweet yet dangerous smile playing on her lips.
"Husband," she said in a honeyed voice, "you have a pregnant wife at home... but you went out and brought three more wives for you?"
Upon hearing this, Scylla couldn’t help but giggle.
Camille and Lisette immediately reacted. Without hesitation, both women slid off the couch and knelt gracefully in front of Freya, lowering their heads.
"Lady Freya," Camille spoke first, "even if we both are wives of Master Kael... you are still his first wife. We respect you."
Lisette nodded quickly beside her. "We will never forget our place. Please accept us."
Freya’s smile widened "Heh."
"Did I hear ’first wife’?"
Amelia’s voice rang out from the doorway.
She walked in, and right behind her, little Selene toddled excitedly on her short legs and her eyes lit up the moment she spotted Brandon.
"Papa!" Selene squealed happily, her little arms reaching out as she rushed forward as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.
Brandon chuckled softly and his expression softened instantly. He leaned forward and caught his daughter, lifting her effortlessly onto his lap.
Selene giggled and immediately hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest.
"Good morning, princess," Brandon murmured warmly, kissing the top of her head as he wrapped one arm securely around her small body.
Amelia sat down smoothly on Brandon’s other side, pressing herself against him possessively.
One of her hands rested on his thigh while she looked across at Freya with a competitive glint in her eyes.
"I am his first wife. Aunt Freya is second."
Freya let out a soft, amused laugh, covering her mouth elegantly. "Fufu~"
Camille and Lisette remained kneeling on the floor, glancing nervously between Freya and Amelia.
Though they tried to stay composed, small, awkward smiles tugged at their lips.
They clearly didn’t want to get caught in the middle of this playful wife hierarchy debate.
Brandon let out a long, helpless sigh and continued gently stroking Selene’s soft hair with one hand "There is no hierarchy here,"
"Camille, Lisette, sit back. You’re not servants anymore. You’re part of this family."
Camille and Lisette exchanged a quick glance and returned to their seats on the opposite couch.
Selene, completely oblivious to the lighthearted wife rivalry happening around her, hugged Brandon even tighter.
"Papa, hungry!" she announced in her cute, demanding little voice, making everyone in the room smile.
Freya reached over and gently pinched Brandon’s cheek, "See? Even our daughter agrees it’s time for lunch. You can settle the ’first wife’ debate later, Amelia dear."
Amelia huffed playfully but leaned her head against Brandon’s shoulder, "Fine... but I’m still first."
-----
Time passed.
Decades flowed by like the gentle current of a great river, and sometimes it was peaceful, sometimes turbulent, but always carrying Brandon and his family forward.
In the years following Rheanne’s ascension, the world changed profoundly.
The awakening of women spread across every nation, every kingdom, and every corner of the continent.
What began as chaos slowly settled into a new order.
The Holy Land of Rheanne became a beacon of strength and stability.
Academies were built to train the newly awakened, and under Brandon’s quiet guidance, many of them learned to fight monsters rather than each other.
Brandon himself became something of a living legend... the Herald, the Companion of the Goddess, they don’t know his name, but they know the Herald.
Yet he never sought the throne or open rule.
He remained in the shadows when possible, guiding from behind, protecting his family, and ensuring the fragile peace held.
Freya gave birth to two more children in the following years.
She aged gracefully and remained the warm, teasing heart of the family, often mediating the playful rivalries between the wives.
Amelia, ever proud of being "first wife," bore three children of her own.
She grew into a confident and capable woman, helping manage affairs in both the Holy Land and the Bleaufort territories.
Scylla, Camille, and Lisette became permanent parts of their lives.
Scylla remained the bold, battle-loving general who trained new generations of warriors while proudly standing beside Brandon in every major conflict.
Camille and Lisette bloomed into confident and deeply loyal partners, each bringing their own strengths such as strategy, intelligence, and quiet devotion.
Selene grew into a beautiful and strong young woman.
By the time fifty years had passed, she had become one of the most respected awakened warriors in the Holy Land, carrying her father’s sharp instincts and her mothers’ grace.
She often teased her younger siblings while proudly standing beside her father on the battlefield when needed.
Laughter echoed through the halls as children ran about, wives bickered playfully over who would sit closest to Brandon that evening, and quiet nights were spent wrapped in each other’s arms.
Brandon watched it all with a complex mix of joy and quiet melancholy.
He had succeeded in many ways.
The world was safer, and his loved ones were thriving.
Yet the weight of the Bootstrap paradox never fully left him.
Every decision he made, every child born... it all felt like steps already written in the long river of time.
Still, in the quiet moments when Selene, who is now a grown woman, would still call him "Papa" with affection; when Freya would rest her head on his shoulder; when Amelia would kiss him possessively; and when Scylla, Camille, and Lisette would surround him with their unique warmth... he allowed himself to be happy.
Time passed.
They lived, they loved, they fought when necessary, and they built something beautiful together.
Fifty years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.