Page 102 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

They reached the garden entrance. Moonlight illuminated the pathways ahead, casting everything in silver light.

"Shall we?" Caspian asked.

Caroline smiled up at him, and in the moonlight, she looked almost ethereal.

"Yes."

And together, they stepped into the moonlit garden.

Mine, that possessive voice whispered again.

And for the first time, Caspian didn't push the feeling away.

Chapter 21

Moonlight and Promises

The garden was beautiful in the moonlight.

Carol walked beside Caspian along the winding paths, lanterns casting pools of warm light among the shadows. The night air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of spring blossoms and fresh earth.

Behind them, she could hear the soft padding of paws.

"I think we have company," Carol said, glancing back.

Mochi trotted along the path, his twin tails swishing with contentment. Shadow bounded after him, the puppy's oversized paws making him occasionally stumble over nothing in particular.

"They follow you everywhere," Caspian observed.

"They're social creatures," Carol said. "They need enrichment and exercise."

"You read that in a book."

"I might have," Carol admitted. "There was a very helpful text in your library about magical creature care. Very thorough section on Dreamweavers."

"Of course you found it," Caspian said, and there was definite amusement in his tone.

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the pets wandering off to investigate a particularly interesting bush. Carol was acutely aware of Caspian's presence beside her—tall, solid, steady.

"Tell me about the campaign," Carol said. "You mentioned fighting Blightspawn, but what was it really like?"

Caspian glanced at her, seemingly surprised by the question. "You want to know about the fighting?"

"I want to know what you faced," Carol said. "What threatened you. What you dealt with for five days while I was here worrying."

Something shifted in his expression—that almost-smile she was learning to recognize.

"We encountered a larger incursion than usual," Caspian said. "Corrupted wolves, bears, even two massive elk with crystalline antlers. The Blight had pushed further into our territory than normal."

"The Blight," Carol repeated. "I know it creates monsters, but... what exactly is it?"

Caspian was quiet for a moment, clearly deciding how much to explain.

"The Blight is a wasteland," he said finally. "Cursed land to the east of Valdaren, corrupted by an ancient war between the races—humans, elves, orcs, trolls, demons, giants, dwarves. The war happened nearly two thousand years ago, and the magical devastation left the land... wrong. Filled with corrupted energy, restless spirits, lingering dark magic."

Carol listened, fascinated despite the grim subject matter.

"The corruption spreads," Caspian continued. "Slowly but constantly, like a sickness seeping outward. It creates a miasma—a dark, sickly green fog that twists any living creature it touches. Animals that enter the Blightlands become Blightspawn. Monsters corrupted beyond recognition."