ive Louis XVII!"

Philippe immediately aimed at the boy, ready to pull the trigger. But Andre stopped him, saying:

"Don''t shoot!"

"He''s an armed rebel caught in the act! By the law, we should execute him on the spot!" Philippe retorted angrily, his finger still on the trigger.

But Andre calmly ordered, "Bind him. Bring him back to the camp."

"Andre! Think of our hero young Bara! Age cannot be a reason to pardon him!" Philippe protested loudly.①

Andre remained silent. A single tear rolled down his cold cheek.

"We fight for him too," he whispered.

Philippe fell silent. He lowered his weapon.

-------------------

Edith followed closely behind Andre, and as soon as they stepped into the warm, fire-burning interior, she urgently helped him shed his snow-covered coat, before fondling her lover''s broad chest.

"My dearest Andre! In the past, I was enamored by your furor, but now I realise that it''s your clemency that captivates my heart more! When you saved a child''s life, you became truly like a handsome god in my eyes!"

Her fingers entwined themselves in his thick curls as she eagerly devoured his lips. Andre embraced her, and they tumbled onto the narrow single bed by the window, tossing and turning on the bedsheet, wrapped up in each other''s virtue, kissing with drunken fervor.

As Edith''s blouse slipped off one shoulder due to their intense movements, revealing her wheat-coloured skin, Andre suddenly sat up and gasped for breath in blush.

"That''s enough, Edith,