Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1227

Amidst the chaos, Jenkins could no longer comprehend why this topic had been brought up today.

To say he didn't like Dolores would be a lie, but his feelings for her were completely different from how he felt about Alexia, Hathaway, or Briny.

But he had to admit, Alexia's plan and analysis were flawless. If he followed her proposal, everyone could find happiness, and he would have a much better chance of bringing an end to the calamities of the 18th Epoch.

"See, Jenkins? Dolores has no objection. So, what do you think?"

Seeing Dolores rendered speechless, the petite woman stared into Jenkins’s eyes. He could see a mix of resentment, jealousy, and worry swirling in their depths, but beneath it all, he also saw the fierce passion of her heart.

He once again revealed the greatest flaw in his character: his hesitation in matters of the heart. He was a cautious man by nature, but in a moment , caution was tantamount to weakness—a fact even his cat seemed to grasp.

Everyone present, except for the cat, let out a silent sigh of relief. Jenkins's expression hardened with resolve. In truth, he had already made up his mind; his only hesitation was whether his decision would cause others pain.

To voice his concern that she might be confusing admiration with love would be too cruel, so Jenkins left the thought unsaid. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as his mind raced back over the last six months—all the trials he'd faced, the things he'd encountered, and the young women who had become part of his life.

His weakness was only ever fleeting. Once Jenkins truly set his mind to something, he was never one to waver.

"I care for all of them."

He didn't like to deceive himself. Orıginal content can be found at n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net

"It's time to face this honestly."

He said to himself, then turned his gaze directly to Dolores.

"For the sake of my goals, and for the sake of this world, I will help you claim the throne. I will help you achieve every one of your ambitions. And on the day you wear the crown, I will formally propose to you. If, at that time, you still wish to have me, I will gladly be your husband."

Dolores was so flustered she forgot how to breathe.

"Yes, Dolores. I admire you for being such a strong and independent woman, and... I also adore your beautiful face..."

Alexia jabbed him sharply in the ribs, but Julia thought his words were perfect.

"You may never forgive what Alexia and I have proposed today. We are, after all, using you... But if you'll let me, I will spend a lifetime making it up to you..."

In that instant, the faces of the women back in Nolan flashed through his mind, and he felt like an absolute scoundrel. Yet, at the same time, he knew this was the right thing to do. This was the correct path.

He was willing to bear this burden, to take full responsibility—for love, and for the goal that lay ahead.

He apologized to the others in his heart, knowing he had to say something now instead of pushing all these unresolved feelings to some later date.

Steeling himself, he reached out a hand that trembled ever so slightly. Under the watchful eyes of everyone in the room (Chocolate included), he gently tilted Dolores's pale chin, compelling her to meet his gaze.

"Oh, great Sage, what am I doing?"

The question echoed relentlessly in his mind, but he pushed it aside and asked with unwavering resolve:

"Can you accept all of this? Even knowing I won't be exclusively yours? Even knowing... there are others?"

Jenkins's face, illuminated by the lamps, was so solemn and sincere that even Alexia felt a pang of jealousy. Sometimes, she couldn't tell if the Williams man was genuinely so considerate that he struggled to make a decision, or if he was deliberately playing innocent as part of a calculated game of push and pull.

But one thing was certain: once he made a decision, he demonstrated an incredible talent in every area that required his effort. Just like now...

Bathed in the glow of the gas lamps and crystal chandelier, Dolores was utterly speechless. Her face flushed a deep crimson, and even Julia couldn't help but fret over her princess's flustered state.

On this momentous night, a decision that would alter the very course of history had been made by Jenkins, and he was now ready to set it in motion.

Mortals cannot peer clearly into the future, so they could not know the significance of this decision. But a select few diviners and astrologers, gazing up at the heavens, noticed that in the wake of the war in the far north, the stars had once again shifted in a subtle, yet meaningful way.

What this portended, no one could say for certain. Perhaps the words of Miss Brolignans were most fitting:

"The gears of fate have begun to turn once more."

Jenkins awoke on Sunday morning to the chirping of birds outside his window. It was still early—not yet six o'clock—and even Chocolate lay curled by his pillow, breathing evenly.

He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could, pushing aside the remnants of a strange dream. He stared blankly at the oil painting on the wall opposite, his expression grave as he replayed last night's conversation in his mind, wondering if the man who had professed his feelings to a sixteen-year-old girl had truly been him.

Chocolate's cry confirmed it: that man had indeed been him.

At the sound, Jenkins turned to see the cat squirming on the bed before rolling over to expose its soft belly. He smiled and reached out to stroke its fur, and the cat purred in satisfaction.

Though thoroughly displeased with Jenkins for constantly bringing strange women into their home, the cat had recently come to an understanding. If the young man was so fond of his little playthings, then he should be allowed to indulge himself.

Once he matured, he would understand who his true companion was in this eternal life.

Since the cat was now awake, Jenkins sighed and decided to head downstairs for breakfast. He was up quite early, and in the early spring manor, only the maids were bustling about.

Breakfast wasn't ready yet, so Jenkins asked for a newspaper and settled into a chair in the spacious second-floor drawing-room to kill some time.

The early spring breeze was refreshing, so Jenkins had a servant open the French doors that led to a large terrace; the main door to the room was, of course, left open as well. He hadn't been reading for long when Alexia entered, her face still holding a trace of morning sleepiness.

She had merely splashed her face with water and tidied her hair, without a hint of makeup. This, however, was the look Jenkins adored most.