Time Travel? Rebirth? I Win This Time!

In the guest room next door, Sibylla found herself reflecting on the sights and sounds of the day. She had seen prosperous towns before, but none quite like Mike Bai's estate. Here, whether infidels or the faithful, everyone seemed to coexist in peace. The people worked tirelessly but with spirits high, and the atmosphere was filled with hope.

Yet as Sibylla gazed upon the best room of Mike Bai's manor—his own quarters—it appeared far too humble. The furniture was simple, with no lavish adornments. The only thing that could possibly reflect Mike Bai's wealth was the bookshelf along one wall.

A pale finger gently ran over the spines of the books: The Iliad, The Odyssey, Poetics, and others. Turning to Otto, she asked with curiosity, "I didn't expect that Baron Mike Bai, so young, would be so well-read."

Otto, somewhat proud, answered, "Before he came here, Mike Bai spent three years at the monastery, which instilled in him a strong habit of reading."

"Oh?" Sibylla stepped closer, eyeing Otto, his rugged features still bearing an undeniable charm. "Then why did he come here to make a pilgrimage?"

"It's mostly my fault," Otto said with a rueful smile. "If it weren't for me, he'd probably still be happily playing on his lands."

"And why, then, did you come, Sir Otto?" Sibylla asked, her voice dripping with intrigue as her narrow green eyes fixed on him.

Otto's expression remained calm, though his mind flashed to the face of a beautiful young woman. Her sea-blue eyes had always been filled with affection for him.

"I came to atone for the sins I committed against my late wife," Otto replied, placing a hand over his chest, where the cross she had left him seemed to burn with a memory of her presence.

Sibylla was taken aback, a shadow of sorrow crossing her face as she thought of a young man, full of life and light, now lost to her. She sighed, her heart heavy. If only my husband were still alive…

"If the Lord is so cruel," Sibylla murmured, lost in thought, unsure whether she spoke of herself or of others.

"The will of the Lord is unknowable, but I do believe He still watches over the Adler family," Otto said with a faint smile, his mood lightening as he thought of Mike Bai. "Otherwise, how could Mike Bai have come into my life?"

Sibylla's voice softened with envy. "I envy you, Sir Otto. At least you have a good nephew."

Otto, sensing the sorrow behind her words, tried to console her. "Your Grace, please don't be so mournful. You still have His Highness Baldwin to rely on."

Mention of Baldwin only deepened Sibylla's sadness. Despite Baldwin's fame after the victories at Montgisard and the Battle of the Yabo River, she knew his health was failing. He would never live past thirty.

"People see me as the Princess of the Kingdom, with wealth and power, but all I am is a woman who must sacrifice her happiness for the Kingdom," Sibylla said, turning to the window. The city of Jerusalem appeared faint through the haze of smoke in the distance.

"But if the Lord blesses me with a match to a true knight, that would be a great thing," she continued, her voice filled with bittersweet longing. "But if not, I will only be a widow with a child to raise."

She turned back to Otto, her eyes now resolute. "The Kingdom's situation is dire. Duke Reynard from Shatillon constantly calls for war with the infidels, while Count Raymond of Tripoli secretly negotiates with Saladin. When Saladin returns, where will Baldwin be to save us?"

"I need a man to rely on, and the Kingdom needs a king," Sibylla said, her voice hardening with determination. She knew what her brother's mission truly was, but she was now more certain than ever. Compared to Mike Bai, Otto seemed the better choice—brave, handsome, and free from the Kingdom's political factions. Otto's nephew would become a loyal subject, and Mike Bai's wealth and his command of the Assassins would be the Kingdom's pillar.

Sibylla moved closer to Otto, her voice a whisper. "Sir Otto, it seems we are both unfortunate, yet we share the same fortune."

She reached for Otto's hand and guided him to sit beside her on the soft couch. Her green eyes gazed at him with a mixture of sadness and something else, a silent invitation.

Noticing the stains on his hands, Sibylla took a towel and began to gently wipe them clean. Otto started to pull away, but Sibylla stopped him.

"Sir Otto," she said softly, "this is just cleaning, not an improper gesture."

As her hand brushed over his, warmth seemed to flow from her touch, and the air between them grew thick with unspoken tension.

"Besides," Sibylla continued, her body drawing closer, "even if it were improper, would it matter to someone of our station?"

Otto, lost in her gaze, felt the pull of her proximity. Her green eyes were like a whirlpool, drawing him in.

The heat in the room seemed unbearable as Sibylla slowly shed her outer garments, leaving only a loose white robe, her smooth skin exposed to his eyes.

"Your Highness!" Otto sprang to his feet, retreating two steps. "What are you doing?"

Sibylla stepped forward, pulling him back toward her, her face inches from his. Her breath brushed against his cheek as she whispered, "To possess me is to possess the Kingdom."

The words struck Otto like a firestorm, and his body burned with desire. If he embraced Sibylla, not only would he have her in his arms, but the Kingdom's ministers would fall at his feet.

Just as his resolve began to crack, the cross around his neck, the one his late wife had given him, slipped from his neck and fell to the floor with a soft clink.

For a brief moment, he saw the face of the woman he had loved—the one who had spoken to him of their unborn child.

"Otto, once our child is born, will you name him Caen?" her voice echoed in his mind, pulling him back from the brink.

With a burst of strength, Otto pushed Sibylla away. "Your Highness, please... have some respect!"

Sibylla, stunned by his rejection, felt a sharp sting of humiliation. "Am I so repulsive, that even with a Kingdom as my dowry, I cannot win your affection?" she cried, her voice filled with frustration and pain.

She watched as Otto turned and walked away, leaving her alone, her heart shattered.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Otto murmured, his fingers brushing the cross. "I already belong to someone else."