Before winter fell, King Edgar traveled north from London to meet the High King of Alba and his sister Queen Margaret, who were heading south from Scotland. In gratitude to the allies, the English prepared a large number of precious gifts for the King of Scotland, and Edgar came to York's abbey and saw many exquisite Gospels and biographies of the Saints, which belonged to the treasures to be given to the King of Malcolm, extremely beautifully made, the cover inlaid with amber and rubies was woven with gold thread, and Edgar picked up a copy at hand, a biography of St. Charan.

"Your Excellency, what is this about?" Edgar pointed to a painted painting on it and asked Bishop Warchester beside him.

"Your Majesty, this is the story of Saint Charland leading a wolf, a badger and a fox to build a monastery in Ireland." The bishop replied humbly.

Edgar thought it was ridiculous, but he didn't make any comment, just quietly put down the codex. Walking again to the copying room, he saw a group of monks working intently, and the king walked behind one of the gray-robed monks, and saw that he was writing a chronicle on parchment in pointed letters, so he came closer and read softly:

That year, the Franks left England eight days after Epiphany. Bishop Aldred died and was buried in York, the city where his church was located. Harold's sons set out from Dublin with sixty ships and attacked Cornwall, where they were defeated by the Bretons and lost a lot of ships. Prince Edgar defeated the Frankish Earl of Surrey at Byrne in Lincoln, killing hundreds of men and rescuing many of the English of Erie with God's blessing. ”

At this point, Edgar looked at this simple record, but the bloody scenes came to his mind, bows and arrows breaking through the air, swords clashing, and screaming and wailing.

He didn't stay any longer, and Bishop Wachester didn't have time to tell him about the decades of work. Edgar seemed reluctant to recall the battles here, the autumn safari had made him almost forget the two years of battle, and the faces that were still alive were now only the remains of the eternal rest, and in St. Albans, more than thirty of his knights had died, all of whom had been training with him for two years. Although the Spanish knight Cid was more than ten years older than Edgar in this life, his mind was still full of thoughts of glory and victory, so he was surprised by the vicissitudes of his age that the King of England revealed from time to time. Edgar had been growing weary of the war lately, and he felt powerless when he saw the miserable state of the counties devastated by war and heavy taxes, and the kingdom had a long way to go to rebuild, but the threat from overseas forced him to devote most of his resources to defense.

Edgar increasingly hoped that Bishop Æthelwyn would bring back good news from Paris, that England had never needed the friendship of the King of France as much as it did now, and that any price was worth it for the peace of the kingdom.

As the days passed, the court of York became more and more lively, and the king was surrounded by subjects and nobles from all over the world, and even many refugees in exile came to petition the king for help. Edgar was busy all day arranging for the restoration of the counties and the return of the people, while the newly arrived Counts of Moka and Vorsiov brought him more work.

The news from Rome was even more important for Edgar, as the Pope had accepted the request of the Duke of Normandy to give him the flag of St. George and the ring of the Holy See, hoping that the Norman prince could defeat Harold the "oath-breaker", and then depose the "bribe-taker" Stigander and reform the Church in England. Now that the Normans have been defeated and Harold has long since died, the Pope hopes to establish contact with King Edgar of Wessex, restore relations with the Church of England, and even promote the reform of the Holy See with the help of the new king.

Edgar was not willing to fall out with Rome, not to mention that he knew that soon, the Lateran Palace would encounter a formidable opponent - Emperor Henry, and there was no need for him to get involved in any confrontation with Rome. After communicating with the Holy See, Edgar decided to let Bishop Woolfstein go to Rome first, and after obtaining a new appointment, obtain the bishop's shawl, and gradually restore relations between the two sides.

When all this was done, King Alba also arrived in York, where he and his queen would spend Christmas at the court of the King of England. When the Scotsman's party arrived, Edgar recognized the banner of the Count of Morais from the middle, and his heart involuntarily jerked. Sure enough, among the nobles who accompanied King Alba, Edgar saw that charming face again.

She wore a pure white turban over her head, which was matched by a blue velvet shawl, and Edgar seemed to be able to smell the slightly alcoholic cloves coming from the other's body.

In the evening, the King of England appeared in the room of Lady Glouoch, the monarch of England and the conqueror of the battlefield, like a teenager in his first love, who had not drunk a drop of wine all night, but did not wish to destroy his sense of touch and smell, so that he could soberly relive the memories of the pre-summer years.

But when he first saw the other party, Edgar found that his mind was out of the shell in an instant, and even drinking all night would not have such an effect.

"Is there anything wrong with this late hour, my majesty?" Glouoch gave an innocent expression.

"You know what I want." Edgar found that his voice was already a little hoarse.

"Don't you know? You can't do anything like that for 35 days before Christmas. Glouoh looked terrified.

Edgar was stunned, not knowing how to answer, but then he listened to the other man continue to speak slowly: "There are also fifty to sixty days of Lent, more than fifty days before and after Pentecost, all the saints' feasts, Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays of the week, ......"

Edgar came to his senses, and saw the look on her face, and was about to say something, when Madame Gluoher's silk robe fell like a waterfall, revealing the most wonderful sight he had ever seen in his life.

"Give me, my love." The king had never been so mad, and he had never experienced such a fervent love, so entangled, as if he were about to sink into his soft and delicate skin.

She shook her head, reached out with her hands, and held his face in front of her, "No, I want to kiss you." ”

Her hot and humid words made him tremble immediately: "It's beautiful! ”

Suddenly, Edgar feels like a barbarian, like the Vikings of yesteryear, trying to plunder the coastline around her, and he must have her, make her his own, and no one can stop her!