Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Chapter 1275

Cece Spencer, of course, was none other than Celeste Kingsley.

After the birth of their son, she had blossomed anew. Her figure was as slender and graceful as ever, untouched

by the weight of motherhood. Despite the harsh winds and biting cold of last year's winter in the Southern

Frontier, she had flourished. Her complexion was as smooth as silk, and she radiated a delicate allure that made

it impossible to look away.

In the estate, everything of value seemed to be reserved for her. Each day, she indulged in camel's milk stews

and royal jelly soup, soaking in sheep's milk baths-luxuries she had no qualms about enjoying even after the flow

of money from the capital had dried up.

To Oliver, she seemed almost impossibly delicate. Holding her soft, fragile hand stirred something deep in his

chest.

He knew it was unusual-after all, he had spent his life surrounded by women of all kinds, from those of

exceptional beauty to those of quiet sweetness. Yet it was this woman, with her natural, irresistible charm, who

had truly captured his heart.

Timothy had said Celeste's identity was doubtful, and that Oliver should be more cautious.

Oliver had no patience for such warnings. After all, Celeste had already told him everything about her past. She

had cto the Southern Frontier only to find a way to survive, never intending to attach herself to him. She

had known of his wife's cruel nature and wanted nothing more than to avoid trouble, especially the kind she had

fled from in the capital.

So, it wasn't that she had seduced him-it was he who had pursued her relentlessly.

To win her over, he had used every trick in the book. He even offered to take her in as his goddaughter.

Eventually, they married, and still, during their nightly activities together, she would call him "Daddy" in a way

that always made his heart flutter.

Now, with a happy son who is chubby and healthy, and a delicate and charming wife, Oliver felt like he could live

his whole life in the Southern Frontier and still be extremely happy.

He didn't feel at all guilty for the way he had treated Zoey. Over the years, she had run the household with an

iron grip, managing the family's finances with absolute control. Since he had been leading the troops outside,

people held her in high regard. In the future, any titles or recognition that cher way would be for her, not for

Celeste.

Forget guilt, he was also dissatisfied with Zoey.

Celeste had worked hard to give him a son, and had only asked to be elevated as a rightful wife. Yet, Zoey kept

making excuses and showed no dignity as the lady of the house.

No one could know the agony Celeste had endured during her pregnancy. Every whiff of meat made her gag. She

was such a delicate woman, and she held a spittoon every day during that time.

Could Zoey ever understand that?

"My lord, sit down. | have something to discuss with you," Celeste said, reclining on the luxurious chaise longue.

She had slept through much of the day, and her hair was tousled, exuding an even more intoxicating beauty.

Oliver placed their son in the nursemaid's arms, then approached Celeste with deliberate steps. He sat down

beside her, drawing her frail, soft body into his embrace. Lowering his head, he teased with a smirk, "And what

would you like to tell me? That you've cleaned up?"

Her pale skin flushed pink at his remark, and a faint blush spread across her delicate features, even tinting the

corners of her eyes. Her voice was soft and a bit hoarse as she replied, "Must you always think of such things?

Can't you be serious for once?"

With a light kiss on her cheek, Oliver chuckled. "Since you were nine months pregnant, I've been acting like a

priest. Now that you've recovered, it's only natural my thoughts would turn back to...those matters." Her face

reddened even further. He stifled his laughter, gently guiding her shoulders. "Alright, tellwhat you really

need to say."

Celeste pulled out a letter and handed it to him. "My adoptive father has written to say that he's heard rumors

that Sandoria is planning to strike back. Of course, the information may not be true. But if it is, | don't want you

going to the battlefield."

Her voice faltered and she leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Tears began to fall from her

eyes. "l can't bear the thought of you in danger. | can't stand it, not even a little."

Seeing the tears of the beautiful woman he held in his arms, Oliver's heart ached. He kissed her and soothed

her, his hands gently caressing her. "Where did your adoptive father hear this about Sandoria? It's all nonsense."

Celeste's tears slid down her chilled cheek, making her look even more fragile and pitiable.

"Even if it's not true, | can't help but be afraid. Promise me, if the Sandorians come, you won't go to war. So

many soldiers have died on the battlefield here in the Southern Frontier. Even General Sinclair and his sons died

here. You must not go! You cannot."

"Alright, | promise you. | promise," Oliver said, holding her tightly, though a quiet sigh escaped him. He thought

back to his departure for the Southern Frontier battlefield when Zoey had only given him words of duty-telling

him to serve the kingdom well and to lead the army properly. She never once expressed concern for his safety.

Perhaps

her eyes, he was just a tool to earn a better future and wealth.

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