Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Chapter 1073

Carissa hesitated for a moment before finally taking the letter.

She sat down on the wooden chest, holding the letter in her hands for a long time before carefully unfolding it.

Wade had never been fond of reading. He preferred carpentry, crafting mechanisms, and excelling in martial arts. Dominic had often chastised him, accusing him of neglecting serious pursuits. Even as a military officer, Wade was expected to understand military strategy and tactics, not just rely on brute strength. Dominic had forced Wade to study through threats and even the occasional caning.

But effort without interest-and a near-total lack of talent-meant Wade had never made much progress in academics. His handwriting was notoriously messy. He had once joked that his strokes were a masterpiece of wild grace, a chaotic dance of dragons and snakes that only the truly enlightened could appreciate.

Remembering his words, Carissa glanced at the haphazard script and couldn't help but agree.

Fortunately, she could make out the general meaning, even if a few words eluded her. What mattered was the content.

The letter explained the concealed weapon's usage. The mechanism required a slight offset to hit its intended target, just as they had just tested.

It wasn't a deliberate design choice, Wade clarified in the letter, but rather the result of a rushed process. The war was looming, and there hadn't been time for refinements. He had promised to make improvements once the battles were over and send her a perfected version as a gift the following year.

He also mentioned the throwing knives, describing how their streamlined shape allowed them to cut through the air at great speed. The thin, razor-sharp blade required less inner force to use, relying instead on skillful technique.

Wade ended the letter by mentioning several designs for other hidden weapons, already sketched and awaiting construction after the war. Once completed, he planned to send them all to her.

The letter contained little else. It was mostly an ode to his own genius, with an unabashed confidence that no one in the next 50 years would surpass his mastery of concealed weapons.

the battle of Victory

folded the letter slowly-once, twice, three times until it was a small square. She opened her sachet and

to another chest. There was still one more box left from her uncle. When she opened it, though, it contained only mundane trinkets. It wasn't

fox fur cloak, leather hides, and warm winter clothing. There was even a pair of white fox fur gloves, so soft and plush that within moments of wearing them, her hands began

embroidered shoes and two pairs of soft lambskin boots, each a testament to her grandmother's

few pieces of high-quality emerald still uncut, but no gold or silver jewelry. The conditions

look like baby

a few tiny outfits both

also uncovered

shoes and

head hats,

on the lid of

made them, likely around the time she married Barrett.

elet

managing the household,

raising the next generation.

Melanie

The tiger-head shoes were

Pet

brought the little tigers to