As he took his leave, he said, “I’ll take her to her room. Sorry she caused a commotion.” His advisers and attendants watched them go with uneasy smiles. Tinasha’s room had a magical barrier instead of a lock, but Oscar could pass through it, as he was the lord of the castle. He carried Tinasha into the room, put her down on the bed, and pulled the covers over her petite frame. Scanning the room, his eyes landed on her diaries lying on the desk. “She’s surprisingly meticulous…” The lines from one journal he’d glimpsed earlier were so coolheaded it was difficult to imagine the Tinasha he knew could write them. They very much indicated a queen who stood at the pinnacle of her country at a young age. The writings had also revealed Tinasha’s life to be quite lonely—and that she was constantly dealing with conflicts both domestic and international. Undoubtedly, the Traditionalists in Tuldarr had never given her a moment’s peace, constantly seeking to oust her. Oscar couldn’t suppress a sigh at the thought of all that pressure weighing on so tiny a body. “And yet she’s going to become queen again…even though she was finally allowed to abdicate,” Oscar mused, starting to frown, but then he banished that thought. The circumstances were very different now. Her coronation was expressly requested. And she would be a ruler who commanded the mystical spirits, who had not appeared in a long time. Legis would be there to support her as well. Hopefully, Tinasha wouldn’t be so lonely this time. Oscar eyed the piles of journals, counting them up in his mind. In total, there were fifteen. “She said it was just before she became queen, so…around when she was thirteen?” The ninth diary from the oldest had YEAR 235 on the cover; Oscar fell silent before it. He did want to know the truth. Had he truly been the one to save her when she was young? It hadn’t been someone else? If it was him, then why had he done it? Perhaps the answer was in those pages. Thoughts whirled in Oscar’s mind as he touched the cover, but in the end, he didn’t open it. Looking at it without Tinasha’s permission was wrong. And…even if that had been him, it wasn’t his current self. Snooping didn’t seem like it would reveal anything Oscar needed to know. Should there be anything like that, he trusted Tinasha to tell him. Oscar returned to the bed and sat down on it. He gazed at Tinasha as she slept soundly. “You’re glad you came to meet me, huh?” Without a doubt, those words had been meant for him, not the previous Oscar. Still, he had to wonder if he could truly give a woman who had crossed four hundred years into the future what she deserved. Everything she did struck him like waves. Her childish laughter, her deep affection pouring from her even as she raged at him… It was frightening. Not because it was overwhelming or that Tinasha was too clingy. Oscar was scared because he couldn’t allow himself to be a prisoner to love. Turning back, he eyed the scrying bowl set in the center of the room. There lay the spell configuration she was in the middle of analyzing. “…If not for this curse…” If she couldn’t break the curse, he could have Tinasha. That was all he needed to justify keeping her. Oscar did not doubt his ability to talk both Tinasha and Tuldarr into just about anything. She was a woman out of time, who never should have existed here. Tuldarr would get on without her. What was so wrong with accepting for himself this woman who had come here for him? After glaring at the spell above the scrying bowl for some time, Oscar glanced over at Tinasha, then back to the spell she was working so hard to decipher. He let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe this is fate…,” he muttered, a bitter note in his voice, as he slid a hand through her hair, catching one glossy lock and carding his fingers through it slowly and lovingly. He shook his head to dispel the emotions rising inside him and then left the room. The next day, Tinasha made her way to the training grounds right on time, but she was conspicuously holding a hand to her pounding temple. Oscar watched her, his eyes narrowed. “Do you have anything to say?” “My memories are a blur, but first I want to apologize for breaking the suit of armor,” she replied. “…Don’t drink any more of Farsas’s liquor. You’re banned from it.” “Okay…,” she agreed lethargically, starting some light stretches and warm-up exercises. As Tinasha bent her knees, she made a face. “The last time I drank, I put a hole in a wall, so I’ve abstained ever since.” Unbelievable. Compared to that, they got off lucky. Oscar took comfort in that, then picked up his practice sword once he saw Tinasha was ready. “So do you remember the important message I got? If you’ve forgotten, I’ll tell you again.” “I know that Princess Nephelli of Yarda is coming to stay. You don’t need to worry. I’ll be on my best behavior so I don’t bring shame to Legis.” “What about my shame?” “I don’t care about that,” she huffed, glancing away. Remembering what happened yesterday, Oscar’s eyes narrowed. But if he picked a fight here, the same cycle would just repeat. While he was thinking about how to respond, Tinasha faced him again. “That said, I’ll be away starting this afternoon. If anything happens, contact Tuldarr.” “Is that where you’re going?” “No, but I’ll be stopping there, so that will be easiest,” she replied. Oscar wanted to pry further upon hearing that but was aware he couldn’t meddle in another country’s business. He brought his sword up. “Got it. When you’re back, be sure to greet Nephelli.” “I will. I do have my work to do,” she said, grinning, but Oscar detected some loneliness in the expression. He felt as though he was glimpsing her queenly demeanor in that smile, the part of her he shouldn’t know about, and he frowned. “…She’s just a guest of Farsas. You can relax. Like you did at the reception yesterday,” he stated wryly. “Don’t take advantage of the situation to slip in a snide remark. I’m well aware that I drank too much.” “But your singing was great.” The truth was that Oscar had gone to the reception hoping to hear her up close. Tinasha cocked her head, bemused. “Really? I’ll sing for you anytime. Just ask,” she replied with a happy smile. A handful of men had been loitering in a small tavern in a town not far from the castle city since the afternoon. An air of degeneracy hung around this drunk, pipe-smoking bunch, but that was common everywhere in these parts. Somewhere along the way, this region had grown saturated with resignation and despondency. A ray of light suddenly fell on a man who was toying with an empty, upside-down liquor bottle. He squinted. In the doorway stood a small-statured woman and her male companion. They entered and shut the door, taking seats at a table next to the drunkards. One look at the woman, and they all gasped. She had lustrous, long hair like black silk and deep inky eyes. She was terrifyingly beautiful, and she winced upon noticing their gazes on her. She turned in her chair to face them. “If it’s all right, I’d like to ask you gentlemen something.” She wore a bright smile, and the drunkards stared at her, eyeing the woman up and down. “Renart, don’t you think you went too far?” “It’s what they deserved,” he replied as he pushed the men, now beaten to a pulp, into a corner of the tavern. This was retribution for how they had tried to abduct Tinasha, giving any excuse they could drum up. Crouching down next to one man who was still conscious, Tinasha tilted her head to the side. “So can I ask you a question? Do you know what Simila is?” Simila was the so-called god worshipped by the cult that was operating in the Farsas capital. Tinasha and Renart had come to learn more about it. The man’s eyes widened, filling with fear. “I—I don’t! I don’t know anything!” It was obvious he did, and Tinasha pressed him again. “If you talk now, you might end up happier…than if you remain quiet.” “I’m tellin’ you I don’t know anything!” the man cried. Tinasha stood and exchanged a glance with Renart. Five taverns they had visited, and each one proved fruitless. They were at a loss. Giving up on the men who wouldn’t confess no matter how they asked, they took their leave. “What is going on? I’m positive they all know something,” Tinasha said. “Where did you hear about Simila in the first place?” Renart inquired. “From a lady-in-waiting who cared for me when I was little. I believe she was from Cezar.” Tinasha had scoured her diaries and found the word she was looking for in a passage from when she was six. Then she remembered she had heard the name invoked by that lady-in-waiting. She had told bedtime stories of Simila, describing it as a “very scary monster deep below.” According to her journal, Tinasha had a nightmare about black hands stretching up from a hole in the ground and chasing her. “I didn’t think it would be this much trouble. I’m supposed to meet Legis soon, so this is quite annoying,” Tinasha grumbled. In an hour, she had to return to Tuldarr for a conference with Legis about her coronation. Unbeknownst to King Calste, after Legis had woken from his magically induced coma, the two of them had held numerous discussions about a certain course of action. “Perhaps we should go to the capital in Cezar,” Tinasha mused. “Princess Tinasha, please be aware of how much you stand out,” advised Renart, who thought privately that her beauty was one reason the interrogations hadn’t gone well. He happened to glance out at the town and noticed an old woman sitting under the eaves of a house. Motioning to Tinasha not to follow, he went over to the woman alone and crouched down on one knee before her. “Excuse me, I’d like to ask you about something…” After several attempts to persuade her, the old woman reluctantly began to talk. She finally gave them the information they were looking for. And once they’d heard the full story, Renart and Tinasha stared at each other in shock. Two days after Nephelli sent word to Farsas, she arrived via transportation array. As far as royal visits went, this one was rather hasty but couldn’t be otherwise given the circumstances. She brought with her three military officers, two mages, and two ladies-in-waiting. Oscar was there to formally receive Nephelli, and she gave him an official letter from her father, the king of Yarda. It read, My prime minister Zisis is attempting to oust the crown prince, Savas. While they had no definitive evidence, the king and the prince were aware he was behaving suspiciously and had decided that Nephelli should go elsewhere until things calmed down, just in case. She looked worried indeed, and Oscar smiled at her. They had seen each other regularly since they were children, but now that she was nineteen, she was maturing into an adult woman still possessed of sweet, youthful beauty. “I imagine it won’t be easy being in an unfamiliar country, but I hope you have a relaxing stay here,” Oscar said. “I regret that this is all so sudden. I’m presuming upon your kindness,” Nephelli replied, curtsying as her pale-pink cheeks reddened. Oscar left the great hall with her to show the visiting princess to the room where she would be staying. Both of their guard escorts trailed behind them. Tinasha had come to Farsas alone, insisting she could handle herself, but normally a royal traveled with protectors and servants, as Nephelli did. When Oscar said as much to Tinasha before, she had shocked him by revealing there had been a period of time when she cooked her own meals, too. Tinasha had left for Tuldarr the day before. With less than a month until her coronation ceremony, there was much to arrange. Nephelli looked all around the hallway as she and Oscar walked. Then she asked timidly, “The princess of Tuldarr is here, too, I believe…?” “Yes, although she comes and goes like a phantom. Once she’s back, I’ll have her come greet you,” Oscar replied. “Prince Legis introduced us once, here in Farsas. She’s very beautiful,” said Nephelli. That would have been at Oscar’s coronation. He winced at the worry and jealousy in Nephelli’s eyes. “She’s rather unpredictable. Her personality is so intense that her appearance doesn’t really matter.” A damning appraisal. Nephelli, unsure if Oscar was serious, hesitated before merely offering him a vague smile. Upon Tinasha’s return to Farsas around sunset, she was informed that there was to be a banquet for Nephelli that evening. This was relayed by Sylvia, who stood happily in front of the door to Tinasha’s quarters with a makeup kit and gown bag. Holding a heavy stack of books from Tuldarr, Tinasha balked, and her face went stiff. “What…? I have to wear makeup?” “Of course you do! And you have to wear a gown as well!” insisted Sylvia. “Urgh… I should have come back a day later…” Tinasha groaned, but she let Sylvia enter. Right away, she hung the gown on the wall and said excitedly, “There’s no way anyone can beat you when you make an effort, so get serious!” “Who am I supposed to be fighting with…?” Tinasha muttered in a worn-out voice, drawing a bath as she juggled a stack of papers in her other hand. “Princess Nephelli, of course!” Sylvia exclaimed. “Over what?!” “I want His Majesty to make you his queen.” “What?!” Tinasha shrieked, so caught off guard by Sylvia’s crazy proclamation that she almost dropped the collection of documents into the bathtub. Hastily, she clutched them tight against her chest. “Th-that would be difficult from both a public and a private standpoint…” “Really?” “I mean, I’m going to become queen of Tuldarr soon…,” reminded Tinasha. “That doesn’t matter! Tuldarr is right next to Farsas, so all you have to do is draw a transportation array. Birth two heirs, and you’ll be fine!” “…” Tinasha felt so exhausted that she couldn’t respond immediately. She went to set the papers down so as not to drop them. While an extreme case, what Sylvia proposed wasn’t strictly impossible. Still, but no king or queen had ever attempted it before. Two countries ruled by people who had the same parents would only spell trouble. However, Tinasha had a reason why that would not be a vital concern for her. While it was not her explicit goal, that roadblock would cease to matter along the way. The true problem was something else. “Oscar doesn’t see me that way at all.” “What?” Sylvia evidently found that claim unbelievable. Tinasha shrugged. “At most, he doesn’t hate me. He treats me exactly like a kid, so there’s no way he would marry me. That much is obvious, even to me.” Tinasha pushed past a wide-eyed Sylvia to go check on the bath. The water was ready, so she added some perfumed oils to it and slipped out of her clothes. She sank into the tub, soaking as she stretched her slender limbs. Sylvia entered before long and started to wash Tinasha’s long hair. As the floral scent of the oils permeated the bathroom, Tinasha felt her built-up exhaustion melt away. While she was always juggling multiple things at once, there were times when she was allowed a reprieve. Now was one of those occasions. At times, the many responsibilities she handled felt hopeless, even if she knew they were not. Undoubtedly, they took their toll on the young woman’s body. The hot water of the bath and Sylvia’s hands cleaning her locks felt very nice. Eyes closed, Tinasha pressed on various pressure points on her face. Done washing her hair, Sylvia frowned at Tinasha’s pale body in the tub. “You’re covered in bruises.” “Ah yes, because of sword practice. I can’t heal bruises… Although, I can disguise their appearance,” Tinasha explained. “Why are you learning sword fighting? You’re already very strong,” said Sylvia. “When things happen suddenly, my reactions are slow. There’s someone out there who will come to kill me if I don’t improve.” “What sort of crazy daredevil would that be…?” Sylvia wondered in a hushed tone. That would be the demon king, but Tinasha only answered with a vague smile. The two continued to chat throughout the rest of Tinasha’s soak, and when she was done, she climbed out of the tub. With Tinasha’s bruises concealed, her whole body was white as snow, and though she was a bit too thin, her alluring curves beguiled any who beheld them. Sylvia caught herself staring at Tinasha’s naked form until she snapped back to her senses and flashed her a confident expression. “About what we were discussing earlier—a man doesn’t gift clothes to a woman he doesn’t care about! Especially not our king!” With that, Sylvia disappeared back into Tinasha’s bedroom and retrieved the gown the king of Farsas had commissioned specifically for Tinasha, throwing her stunned friend a sidelong glance as she did. With the moon rising into the sky, the banquet got underway. Dozens of high officials and nobles who served the castle milled about the banquet hall. Nephelli was relieved to receive such a warm welcome. Up until now, every day at court in her home country was tense and nerve-racking. Though it was only for a moment, she was honestly happy to have landed in a safe place. Still, she worried for her father and brother who remained in Yarda. Her father was already quite old, and her brother could be fainthearted. She couldn’t help feeling anxious over whether the two of them could resolve the situation alone. If I married into Farsas and gained its support, could I save my father and brother…? Nephelli looked to the king of Farsas next to her with that question on her mind. He noticed her gaze and opened his mouth to say something. But just then, the crowd around the entrance to the hall began to buzz. Nephelli and Oscar glanced over, puzzled, and saw the woman who would rule Tuldarr standing in the doorway. Tinasha hid her discomfort at being the center of attention. She had reminded Sylvia again and again that Nephelli was the guest of honor, so she would prefer to blend in more, but her friend had evidently not listened at all. However, even if Sylvia had paid attention to that exhortation, she would have only insisted Tinasha be more aware of her own striking appearance. As requested, Sylvia had only applied light makeup in subdued colors. Yet Tinasha’s radiance was so distinctive and rare that it garnered everyone’s attention. Her navy-blue gown, so dark it seemed almost black, was entirely open at the back. Layers and layers of light, airy fabrics billowed outward from her waist down to the floor. She wore few accessories, but that only enhanced the innate elegance of the woman’s form. Tinasha approached Nephelli in her seat of honor at the front and curtsied before her. “I apologize for my silence since we first made our acquaintanceship. It is an honor to meet you again.” Nephelli, who had been in a daze, fascinated by Tinasha’s appearance, leaped to her feet and returned the curtsy. “I must apologize, too, for my sudden appearance. I hope we shall get along here.” “There is nothing to apologize for. I find myself quite busy as my coronation approaches, so you will have to forgive any impoliteness,” Tinasha said with a bright smile as she rose to her feet. She attempted to bow and retreat, keeping a sociable, soft smile on her lips, but Oscar called to her. “That looks good on you.” “Fortunately, yes. Thank you,” she replied, her facade never fading once, and withdrew. Tinasha spent some time by the wall chatting with Meredina, who was there as security, before excusing herself from the hall. Nephelli watched her go, cutting a vivid picture even as she left, and couldn’t hold back a sigh. She couldn’t believe that such a woman existed, even though she had met her personally. Feeling as if the light cast by her utterly charming existence was too much for her, Nephelli averted her eyes downward. She did not want to look over and see what kind of expression the man next to her wore as he watched Tinasha go. Late at night in his bedroom, Oscar lay facedown on his bed, still dressed from the party. He managed to stay awake, though he was on the verge of passing out. Nark was asleep by his pillow, curled into a ball. The dragon slept most of the time, unless it was needed. Sometimes he wouldn’t find it in his room, but it would come back if he called for it, so he never worried. Idly, he reached out for Nark’s tail but froze when he heard a knock at the door. Calling out to see who it was, a most unexpected woman’s voice came back. “What, this time you came by the front door?” Oscar asked, inviting her in. Tinasha gave a shrug of her bare shoulders. “I wouldn’t want to intrude if you had brought the princess back to your room, so I checked with the guards first before knocking.” “What kind of beast do you think I am…?” “Figure it out,” Tinasha flatly. Nark perked up at the sound of her voice. The little dragon flapped its wings and flew happily over to its former master, landing on her shoulder. She giggled and stroked its throat. This was not a dragon that was friendly to all humans, but it was fond of Oscar and Tinasha and tolerated a few others like Als and Doan. Tinasha made her way over to the table, playing with Nark as she walked, and started to feed it the fruit arranged there. Oscar watched her, his eyes half lidded. A splash of moonlight poured onto her ivory back, giving it a brilliant shine. “You’re still wearing that dress?” “Well, you had it made for me. Is it so strange?” “No…,” the king muttered. The trouble was that it looked much too good on her. While Oscar was the one who had ordered it, the gown drew out and enhanced Tinasha’s charm beautifully. Tinasha winced as she pushed a round apple into Nark’s mouth. “The back is open, so I can’t quite relax in it.” “I made it that way because you’ve been so hot lately,” Oscar explained. “You could have just shortened the skirt, then.” “Then you’d look like a kid,” he countered. Tinasha was always whining about how hot it was and wearing sleeveless outfits with short hems, but she was so blasé about it that it always appeared childish. The future queen was much more alluring when she wore a gown like she was now. Deliberately putting space between them, Oscar sat down on his bed. Eyeing the sheaf of papers in her hands, he asked, “So why are you here?” “I’ve got bad news and bad news. Which one do you want to hear first?” “…” “I’m kidding. There’s only one thing,” Tinasha said, showing Oscar a document as he sighed exasperatedly. “It’s about Simila. I’ve finally learned what it is. Simila is an evil god spoken of in Cezar since ancient times.” “What…?” “Yes, I’m not surprised you’d react that way. The oldest accounts tell of a town close to the eastern border of Cezar that worshipped this god, five hundred years ago. For the following two centuries, it expanded into a religious group, culminating in the sect founder acting as the king’s adviser. This led to many human sacrifices and wrongful executions of the innocent. This is all only spoken of by word of mouth, and no one wants to discuss it, so obtaining this information was not easy.” “You went to go question people?!” “Yes. I kept getting into scuffles wherever I went, so Renart told me to leave,” Tinasha admitted with a sniff. Oscar could well understand Renart’s feelings, and he let out a sigh. Someone of moderate beauty would be perfect for drawing out information, but Tinasha’s exquisite looks would only garner undue attention and lead to extra trouble. However, the problem now lay elsewhere. Oscar pondered the twists and turns of this story. “So what you’re saying is: Believers of this evil god have come to Farsas.” “It appears so. It’s highly likely that this cult has taken control of the Cezar royal court. Almost all of Simila’s faithful suddenly vanished five years ago, but that’s also when the political situation in Cezar went haywire. Mages flocked to the castle, and all the magistrates were replaced. More and more people were drafted as soldiers yet were never heard from again. There’s also been strange disappearances. Cezar’s situation is rough, to say the least, and morale couldn’t be lower.” “And this decline was brought about by the religion? What are they even doing?” Oscar wondered aloud. He didn’t think worship and politics should excessively intermingle, especially when the object of reverence was a wicked deity. A nation falling to ruin over something like that was the height of foolishness. Tinasha came up to Oscar and held out the stack of documents. “I’ve summarized all the details here. If there’s anything you want to examine, please do.” “Thanks, that’s a big help. Sorry for the trouble,” Oscar replied, accepting the papers. “It’s fine. Sorry I didn’t have better news,” Tinasha said, flashing him a slightly bitter smile, one quite different from her public expression. “How’s the analysis going?” “I’m stuck, but I’ll be done once I overcome this block. Just wait a little while longer,” she responded, pulling at her bun. Her hair came undone, cascading down. As a curtain of black silk fell over Tinasha’s shoulders and back, Oscar closed his eyes for fear of how utterly bewitching it was. “If you can’t manage it, don’t worry.” There was a short pause. Before the silence grew uncomfortable, Tinasha replied, “I’m fine. If things go well, I’ll break it while I’m still in Farsas. I just need a flash of inspiration.” Her voice was as clear as still waters. Hearing it reminded Oscar that Tinasha was indeed the ruler of a country, exactly like he was. Mild loneliness was something she was proud to accept as a natural consequence. Personal feelings or hesitation weren’t reason enough to cease. She understood that doing what duty demanded was her responsibility. Thus, the more placid Tinasha conducted herself outwardly, the more aware Oscar became that the time for the two to part was fast approaching. Even as an uneasy irritation racked Oscar, he maintained his composure, too. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him with concern. A pale hand touched his cheek. “Are you feeling all right? You look tired.” “I’m fine,” Oscar assured. The warmth from Tinasha’s soft hand seeped through to his whole body. The king felt lonelier with her than he did when alone, most likely because the two of them were on separate paths. A serenity came over Tinasha’s face, backlit by the moon. She regretted nothing—accepted everything as it was. Loneliness was only natural. Perhaps that was why Oscar desired to take her into his arms so powerfully at that moment. He wanted to feel her body heat and make sure that her solitude was something she had chosen herself. Tinasha gazed anxiously into Oscar’s eyes, which held some formless emotion in them. Suddenly, a serious glint appeared in her dark orbs. She took his face gently into her hands and then pressed a kiss to his eyelid. Left astonished by the softness of her lips, Oscar felt a jolt of something run through him at her kiss. He desperately wanted to embrace her. He wanted to kiss her deeply and teach her all about carnal desire. He wanted to take control. Yet the king suppressed those terrifyingly primal, fierce instincts and glared up at the woman, his lips pinched. “What are you doing?” “I felt this odd pull that I couldn’t resist. Sorry,” Tinasha said without an ounce of shame, gently releasing Oscar. Her breezy answer gave him a headache. She truly was no better than a child at times. Tinasha simply followed her heart without considering what could come next. As Oscar rubbed at his temples, Nark hopped onto his lap. Tinasha stroked along the creature’s back. “Good night, then,” she bid him, giggling impishly, as if oblivious to her own actions. Oscar eyed her fragile body coldly. “Come during the day next time.” Despite his request, it seemed unlikely that Tinasha would glean the meaning of his deeply exhausted words. After the banquet on her first day, Nephelli did not see Tinasha at all. It was not that she went out of her way to avoid the other royal, rather, Tinasha simply never seemed to be around. When Nephelli asked a mage of Farsas about it, he winced and informed her that Tinasha rarely left her room lately. “If you’re curious, you can go take a look at the training grounds. She might be there,” he said. Nephelli wasn’t curious, exactly. Still, she found herself doing as the mage had suggested and often strolled along the walkway that led to the training grounds. On her tenth day in Farsas, Nephelli found Tinasha there, practicing with a sword. Her opponent was the king of Farsas, and Nephelli took in this unexpected scene with wide eyes. The sounds of weapons clashing were soft, as if he was matching his strength to hers, but they came at a swift pace. With a curt exhale, Oscar knocked Tinasha’s sword into the air. Nephelli gasped as the weapon spun overhead. Astonishingly, Tinasha teleported the armament back into her grip before its blade plunged into the ground. Oscar eyed his adversary with some frustration. “Your physical movements haven’t caught up with your awareness. You need to move more instinctively,” he advised. “I’ll do my best.” “You can read what your opponent will do next from their shoulders. But take in the whole picture, too,” instructed Oscar. Tinasha nodded obediently, then glanced down at her right arm. A reddish-brown bruise was blooming near the shoulder, the result of a blow she had failed to deflect. With a touch from her hand, Tinasha caused it to vanish. Impressed, Oscar remarked, “That’s handy.” “I only concealed the appearance. Magic can’t heal bruises,” Tinasha explained, using a cloth to wipe her sweat-slicked sword hilt. Then she grabbed ahold of it again, looked up, and tilted her head to one side in confusion. Oscar looked thunderstruck. Not knowing why, she tilted her head the other way. “You, you… Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?! Your body must be covered in bruises!” he exclaimed. “It is, but they don’t hurt. I can mend the internal part,” Tinasha coolly replied. “That’s not the problem.” “What? It’s the same thing as blending makeup into your skin. And I don’t expect to get better without some pain along the way. So please, let’s keep going,” the young woman insisted. “I feel pretty depressed right about now,” Oscar muttered. “Why?” Tinasha questioned with irritation, even as she readied her sword. She slashed down at Oscar, not waiting for his acknowledgment. He parried it quite easily, however. The pair then exchanged another twenty or so moves. Oscar didn’t miss Tinasha’s movements slowing when he handily fended away her blade, and he took a step in and sent her weapon flying. He drove his sword in toward Tinasha’s neck, now undefended. Immediately, she threw up her left arm and caught the blow, leaping back. “O-ow.” “Use your magic!” Oscar snapped at Tinasha irritably. His intention had never been to actually stab her throat, but she had countered on instinct and wound up injured for it. The response had likely been fostered in past life-or-death conflicts. Prioritizing survival, even if it meant certain sacrifices, was a concept that had been ingrained into Tinasha over the years. Still gripping her sword, she pressed a hand to her left arm. “You still ended up hitting me.” “You won’t progress without some pain along the way, right? If you don’t like it, use magic to defend yourself.” “No. That would be cheating,” she dismissed primly. Oscar thought that an unbelievably stubborn response. He wished to know who raised this obstinate creature. With an annoyed click of his tongue, Oscar stepped back. Then he felt a gaze upon him and looked to see Nephelli standing close by, accompanied by two guards. When he caught sight of her concerned expression, he winced and waved her over. Hesitantly, she sauntered onto the training grounds from the end of the covered walkway. Tinasha noticed her, too, and grinned. “Hello. Out for a walk?” Nephelli was taken aback by this innocent smile so unlike the one Tinasha had worn during the welcome banquet, but she hid her surprise and bobbed her head respectfully. “Yes… I wanted to stretch my legs a little. Princess Tinasha, whatever are you doing?” “Training. I have a lot of free time right now,” she replied, her eyes narrowing with her smile. The expression betrayed no emotion. Curiously, Nephelli felt a sense of uneasiness sweep over her. She was a royal, too, and had learned some swordplay as self-defense. Although she kept up regular practice, she had never undergone such intense drills. Oscar and Tinasha were both rulers and yet seemed to believe it a matter of course that they fight in the thick of combat. It was frightening. Unaware that Nephelli was trembling with fear, Oscar asked Tinasha, “Is it okay that you’re still in Farsas? You’ve got preparations to do for your coronation, don’t you?” “Legis is handling them for me. I tried to handle things myself, but the castle staff wrested responsibility from me when I slashed the guest list. Don’t worry; I’m doing my job properly.” That was probably true. Outside of sword practice, Oscar hadn’t seen Tinasha out and about much recently. At times, he detected exhaustion written all over her face. Secretly, he was worried. Tinasha checked the clock on the outer wall and bowed her head. “Is it about time? Thank you for practicing with me.” “Hurry up and do something to prevent all that bruising,” Oscar instructed. “I’ll handle it,” Tinasha replied. Evidently planning to stay, she had just taken Oscar’s sword from him when she stared in the direction of the walkway. Oscar turned around, following her gaze. There stood Nephelli’s guards, a military officer and a mage. “What is it…?” Oscar inquired. Tinasha looked like a cat sniffing out an unfamiliar human. Unsure of the issue, Oscar made to leave, urging Nephelli along. But immediately after, he whipped around. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Tinasha lifting her hands up as she whispered an incantation. Once he’d made sure of that, he picked up Nephelli. Everything happened so swiftly that there wasn’t time for the Yardan princess to feel discombobulated before a sound like nails scratching on a chalkboard raked the air. “Scatter.” With that one word from Tinasha’s lips, the awful noise stopped. Keeping Nephelli in his arms, Oscar asked, “Where did that come from?” “Wait. Mila!” Tinasha called. “Mm-hmm, here I am! What do you need?” answered a red-haired girl who popped out of thin air. Tinasha gave her spirit orders. “Go after the assassin. I want them alive, but if that’s not possible, kill them.” “Got it, got it!” the girl trilled, letting out a laugh like tinkling bells as she disappeared. With the spirit gone, Oscar finally set Nephelli down. Pressing her hands to her reddened cheeks, she gazed up at Oscar. “Um, so…what just happened?” “Ah well… An assassin broke through the castle wards. Looks like they’ve already escaped, but it’d be best to return inside,” he said. The blood drained from Nephelli’s face. She glanced over at her guard soldier and mage to check their reactions. Oscar smiled awkwardly down at the woman, whose lower lip was trembling. “Well, we don’t know who or what their target was. Could’ve been the explosives behind us.” “If they think that’s enough to kill me, they’re stupider than I thought. That’s what they get for being so unaware,” Tinasha stated with a shrug, walking over to return the sword Oscar was using to him. Nothing could reassure Nephelli in the slightest—not the sight of Tinasha looking as composed as if nothing had transpired, nor the equally unperturbed Oscar putting a hand around Nephelli’s shoulders. After leaving the training grounds, Tinasha retired to the castle’s grand bath, diving into the water and splashing about while washing off her sweat. This had become her custom ever since her plunge in the underground Lake of Silence. Oscar had told Tinasha to learn how to swim, and while she was trying, she had yet to succeed. As Tinasha sat submerged in the water, she heard her spirit’s voice right above her head and stood, brushing water off her face with her hands. Mila was floating overhead. “Lady Tinasha, you can’t breathe while swimming?” “I don’t know how. Do you?” “Demons don’t swim, so no. More importantly, I caught the assassin. Should I send them here?” “That’s fine, but I am still naked,” Tinasha reminded, squeezing water out of her ponytail and walking over to the shower area. She summoned clothes into her hands. As she was pulling on a pale-blue sundress, a man she didn’t recognize appeared on the floor before her. He seemed to be a mage, and there were cuts covering his body. After arriving, he wriggled around on the floor, looking every which way. Tinasha arched an eyebrow as she beheld the sight. “Welcome. Sorry we’re meeting here of all places, but I need to ask you some questions.” When the man looked up, he saw an extremely beautiful and cruel smile on the woman’s lips. Oscar, who had returned to his study after escorting Nephelli back to her rooms, gave a strained smile to Tinasha and Als when they entered. Eyeing the bound, battered man, the king asked Tinasha, “What did you find out?” “His target was, in fact, Princess Nephelli. He’s an assassin from Yarda. However, he worked through an intermediary, so he’s oblivious to the one who gave the order. He’s just a hired man,” Tinasha reported, eyes flitting over to the hired killer as she crossed her arms and leaned against the table. Sweat was pouring down the nervous man’s temples; his magic had been sealed off. Oscar gazed at him with his head in one hand, as if he could hardly be bothered with this. “An assailant breaking through our wards is concerning.” “Mmm, I think he just knew what was going on inside. An external entity can’t plow through a magical barrier without permission, but you can be let in on foot.” “Got it. Als, make him talk.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” Als responded with a bow, then dragged the assassin out of the room. What Tinasha was implying was that there was a traitor in the castle. Oscar doubted whether this hired assassin would expose the turncoat’s identity, but it was worth trying. Oscar lifted his chin off his hand and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. “Damn nuisance. Even if he tells us he was hired by Yarda’s prime minister or something, I can’t do a thing about it.” “You can’t?” “It’s another country’s affairs. All I can do is inform Yarda,” he answered with a sigh, twirling a pen in his hands as he stared at the ceiling. Tinasha asked Oscar if he wanted tea, and he said yes. The king smiled, feeling as if it had been a very long time since he’d watched her brew tea. Tinasha opened the door and asked the lady-in-waiting beyond for some water, then turned back to face him. “Oh, but couldn’t you get involved if you got engaged to her?” Tinasha proposed airily. Oscar’s eyes widened. More surprising than the suggestion itself was the fact that it came from Tinasha. Careful not to let his inner feelings show, Oscar replied, “Get engaged to someone just for that? That’s a big ask.” “So cold… Do you not think her a suitable candidate?” Tinasha pressed. The inquiry was not without merit. Yarda, Farsas’s neighbor to the east, had enjoyed a friendly relationship with Farsas in the ten years since the countries warred. If the two nations joined in marriage, relations would be stabilized for quite a while. However, Yarda wasn’t the only country looking to make a match with Farsas. After all, it was one of the most powerful nations in all the land, rivaled only by Tuldarr and Cezar. Neither was inclined to seek a marriage alliance with Farsas, though. Cezar, because of its many years of strained relations with Farsas, and Tuldarr, because the peculiar Magic Empire kept to itself. Glancing over at the woman who would become queen of Tuldarr in twenty short days, Oscar watched her reach out to take a pitcher of water from the lady-in-waiting. While the air Tinasha had about her typically was anything but regal, she actually kept a rational, levelheaded disposition as a queen. Her suggestion to wed Nephelli was evidence of that. As she began to pour the water she had heated with magic into the teapot, she said in a crisp voice, “If you become engaged to her, you will have ample justification for interfering in Yardan affairs. It would put her at ease, too… I suspect her intention in coming here had something to do with that anyway.” Oscar almost nodded but then frowned. “Perhaps that was Yarda’s plan in sending her here. If she dies at home, then any hope of aid from Farsas vanishes.” “Oh, I see… But if she perishes here, you become obligated to assist,” Tinasha surmised. “Dammit. How much longer is this going to drag on?” “Until things in Yarda reach a conclusion, I imagine. And we don’t know how long that will take,” Tinasha stated, keeping an intent gaze fixed on the teapot as she shook it to steam the tea leaves. Her focus likely had nothing to do with Yarda’s problems; she was determined to make tea. To Tinasha, Yarda’s predicament was a neighbor’s neighbor’s problem. She was even further from it than Oscar. Whether she had an opinion on the matter or not, she possessed no desire or ability to intervene. Such was perfectly normal for a queen of Tuldarr. Glancing over at her lovely face in profile, Oscar remembered something. “Oh yeah, you were staring hard at Nephelli’s guards earlier. Did you find them suspicious or something?” “What? You saw that? No, that wasn’t why. I was just startled by how much magic her mage has.” “Mage?” Oscar repeated, trying to recall his face but failing. The fellow hadn’t made a strong impression. Tinasha looked guilty. “He’s suppressing his power, but there’s nothing wrong with a royal guard doing that. He’s probably stronger than the mages Princess Nephelli keeps as her closest associates. So I was just wondering if he’d want to come to Tuldarr; that’s all.” “Don’t try to poach other countries’ mages so casually.” “I didn’t say anything to him!” Tinasha shouted indignantly, then put a soft smile back on her face. “Setting any poaching aside, I’ll take on anything I can help with. You need only to ask.” “Thanks. I do want to get this sorted out while you’re still around.” “By the way, my analysis should take another two weeks. I’m currently waiting on a magic implement,” Tinasha calmly revealed. Oscar’s eyes widened, reality hitting him all of a sudden that the curse shackling him for fifteen years would soon be lifted. It felt like a fantasy. He should be glad to get rid of it. But at the same time, it meant losing his connection to her. A little while later, Tinasha placed a steaming teacup on the desk before Oscar. He glanced up at her. Impulsively, he blurted out, “It’s not going to fall through?” “Don’t say that!” she cried, making a terrible face at him. “It fell through, hmm? That tramp failed.” Zisis sighed in disappointment upon receiving the report. Nephelli staying in Farsas had troubled him at first, but now he focused his efforts on using that against the royal faction. If she died in Farsas, no one would blame him for it as long as his link to the assassin remained unknown. This would allow him to take advantage of the opening left by her death. The king and Savas were aware of Zisis’s shady maneuvers, but without proof, they could only stand and watch. Zisis found it irritating that their power was that limited. Perhaps he should have delighted in his enemy’s ineptitude, but that adversary was the royal family of his homeland. Had they enough power of their own, he never would have had to do all this. Zisis’s face twisted bitterly with a mix of frustration and patriotism. Regardless, he had to do something about Nephelli. She had known the king of Farsas since they were children. It would spell trouble for him if they were to get engaged. Unlike the former king of Farsas, who had provided aid to Yarda, the young man on the throne now was shrewd. It was Zisis’s secret fear that he would annex Yarda through marriage with Nephelli. “…It is imperative that I deal with the princess.” Zisis faltered at the idea of murdering her, but she was the one who abandoned her duty and fled to another country. As he told himself that, he gave new instructions to make his next move. Three days after the assassin incident, Als delivered a report to Oscar. Evidently, the hired killer had received instructions via the intermediary about how to infiltrate the castle. He had gone through the eastern gate, which was regularly guarded but had been left momentarily vulnerable upon the outbreak of a small fire. “So someone let him in. Who do you think it was?” asked Oscar. “For now, I suspect one of the people who came with the princess, because after what happened before, we thoroughly investigated everyone working in the castle,” answered Als, referring to how the religious cult had plotted Tinasha’s poisoning and sent a woman to break into the treasure vault. After arresting those involved, Oscar had ordered the leaders of the cult all executed, and the lower-ranking members of the organization were sent home under close supervision. At that time, every person working for the castle became a subject of investigation into whether they had ties to any suspicious people. Oscar pressed the back of his pen against his forehead. “How much should I get involved in this…? For the time being, be wary of anyone from Yarda. Once I’ve decided on a method of approach, I’ll send further instructions.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” Als replied, retreating from the room. An unhappy mood settled over Oscar, and his gaze fell onto the papers on his desk. He recalled how Tinasha had acted earlier. He’d imagined her the jealous type, but she was oddly composed, which was troubling. The night they came back from the Lake of Silence, she had told him that their current relationship was enough. Had she truly given up on her attachment to him already? Putting aside the time when she was drunk, Tinasha’s reaction had been entirely different when speaking to Delilah. Maybe the situation had been different then, Delilah being who she was. Oscar had led Tinasha to believe he held no interest in her, and the man understood he had no right to be upset. Even so, vague irritation flickered through his mind as he gathered together all the documents he didn’t need and dumped them on Lazar, who had just entered. At the same time, the seemingly unenvious Tinasha was in her room floating upside down. In a reversal of their usual positions, her spirit was sitting in a chair gazing up at her master. There was an appalled look on her face. “If it bothers you that much, why don’t you just kill her?” “I’m not going to kill her!” The topic of discussion was the recently targeted princess of Yarda. Annoyed, Tinasha gazed at her hands. She had a sealing ring on every finger. It wasn’t her place to step in. Therefore, she had given the most logical-sounding opinion. Yet Tinasha was hopelessly distressed over the idea of Oscar deepening his connection with Nephelli beyond mere diplomatic friendship. She could have admitted to not liking it, but doing so risked forfeiting all ability to keep herself in check. Thus, she was trying very hard not to think about it. Her magic was still fluctuating in reaction to her emotions, however. After putting up a barrier around the windowpanes that strained under the pressure, Tinasha set herself rotating in midair. That was when a man’s voice entreated, “Oh, kill her, kill her. It’s so much easier to be wicked.” “Travis?!” Tinasha yelped, hastily righting herself. At the table, Mila recoiled in shock. There he was in the seat across from her, having appeared at some point. “What are you doing here…?” asked Tinasha somewhat nervously. Mila bowed formally to Travis; he responded with a casual wave. “I had some free time, so I came to tease you. It’s so fun how you keep making one rival after another.” “She’s not my rival… It has nothing to do with me,” Tinasha declared sulkily. Travis’s eyes danced as he watched her like one would an amusing toy. He spread his arms wide, acting grand. “The prince of Yarda is so weakhearted. I think you’d see eye to eye much more with the prime minster.” “Really?” “Yes, that prime minister is a sly one. Once he realized the prince had no aptitude for royal duties or judging character, he turned on him. He’ll sacrifice one for the good of many and do whatever it takes to settle things quickly. Quite gallant, don’t you think?” said Travis. It was an open compliment, but coming from the mouth of the demon king, it was impossible to interpret as an honest one. Tinasha landed on the floor and leaned against an empty chair, a sour look on her face. “How do you know all that?” “Because I’ve been in Gandona. I keep tabs on the neighboring countries,” he replied. Gandona was a Great Nation to the east that shared a border with Farsas and Yarda. It was not that surprising to learn that Travis was there, though it was unsettling to hear him use such a human turn of phrase. Suspicious, Tinasha asked, “You’re keeping tabs on them? For what purpose? Other countries shouldn’t have anything to do with you.” “Oh, but they do. I’m the guardian of an heir to the throne,” Travis idly admitted. “What?!” “Eh, you’ll find out soon enough. Eventually, I’m going to take the country and give it to my girl.” Tinasha didn’t understand what he meant by that at all. It was clear that Travis was meddling in Gandona’s affairs on behalf of someone he’d taken a fancy to. This was unprecedented, not to mention terrifying. “What are you going to do once you’ve taken the country…?” “Who knows? I haven’t decided yet. Although I won’t do anything to your country, as a favor to Leonora.” “Was that not balanced out by the debt I incurred when I lost to you?” Tinasha inquired. “I’ve lent you your life, which I will take back someday. This is a separate matter,” replied Travis with a cocky grin. Tinasha was gratified and yet also not. The demon king said he wouldn’t do anything to her country, but Farsas lay between Gandona and Tuldarr. Farsas was the one more in danger, so that was the one she didn’t want him touching. Saying as much would only invite unwanted interest from Travis, considering how much enjoyment he got out of doing things people hated. A smile spread across his lips, as if he saw right through her concerns. “So? Do you want to kill her now?” “No!” If Tinasha did give in to that temptation, she would undoubtedly become the strongest assassin ever. Unsurprisingly, she grimaced and refused to. Travis snorted, as if he thought that was no fun. “You have so much power. Haven’t you ever wanted to make better use of it? It’s so boring how you only play the defensive.” “Power is just one part of a person. I don’t want to be controlled by that single portion,” she countered. “What’s so bad about exploring what you have? Don’t you want him?” “You don’t win a person’s heart by killing another,” Tinasha returned, a blank look on her face. That was a simple fact. Even if she slew a woman Oscar loved, that didn’t mean he would love her. It would only lead to the opposite. Travis frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but kept silent. Tinasha glanced over at him, wondering about his sudden silence, and found him giving a sardonic smile. “Well, whatever. More importantly, a pesky insect has gotten into your castle. Have you noticed?” “Do you mean the assassin? I feel awful for the princess of Yarda.” “Not him. Another insect.” “What?” asked Tinasha, brow furrowed. If someone else besides the assassin had stolen in, she couldn’t overlook it. Travis smirked, clearly satisfied with himself. “Do your very best. Trust too much in your own power, and you’ll get tripped up all too easily. That’s the sort of opponent you’re up against.” “The sort of—What do you mean by that?” Tinasha demanded, wanting more details, but Travis vanished. He had said his piece and then disappeared, leaving her flabbergasted. “Wh-what just happened…?” “Who knows…?” said Mila, exchanging glances with her mistress over Travis’s inscrutable conduct. Curiously, when Tinasha had stated that love was not won through murder, Travis had appeared almost hurt. Tinasha was left with an indescribably bad taste in her mouth. “I feel so…disconcerted.” “That’s usually what happens when you get involved with him. Are you going to search for this ‘insect’?” “If I can, but I don’t have the slightest idea who it could be,” Tinasha admitted, tapping a finger against her temple. Then she shook her head and reached for her mage’s robe. “For now, I’m going to get some exercise at the training grounds. Maybe I’ll think of something—or at least clear my head. If I can best Oscar, the rules say I can knock him down. I want to.” “I’ve never seen you get a hit in on the Akashia swordsman, though.” “That’s because I’m not using magic!” Tinasha shouted back, flying out of the room once she was done changing. Mila smirked as she watched her go. “I didn’t get to clear my head…” “Did you say something?” “No, nothing,” Tinasha replied as she summoned invisible orbs. She sent them speeding toward Oscar, who sliced all of them down silently. This was only the ninth time they had done these drills, and Oscar had nearly mastered his magical sight. At first, he had proposed that Tinasha practice this with him during their sword training, but that left her unable to concentrate on meeting his swings. So they did first one and then the other. Oscar had started his magical-sight lessons later than Tinasha’s sword combat, but he was making far more noticeable progress. As she increased the speed of the orbs, Tinasha asked him about something else. “Ultimately, what do you think you’re going to do?” “What indeed,” the young king replied, making it sound like somebody else’s problem. Curling her lip, Tinasha fired three orbs to land at once. But Oscar took half a step back and dispatched them neatly. Tinasha felt irritated at how unaffected the man appeared. “Well, is the matter already settled or not?” she pressed. “I haven’t decided. Hmm. Considering what’s best for another country is a different story, however. I’ll go with the flow.” “…Shouldn’t you just get married and annex her country?” “Sounds annoying,” he stated flatly, making Tinasha’s eyebrows knit. Oscar went on as he fielded an even more vicious hail of invisible attacks. “Even if I invade and expand Farsas, it’s hard to say what could happen after my death. And in that case, the status quo is perfectly fine.” Underneath his words lay a confident assertion—that as long as he was alive, he was confident he could handle things, no matter how large the country got. Looking at him acting like this was no big deal shifted Tinasha’s unease into ire. She vented her anger into drawing up a spell. “Strands of spider silk, go forth and capture.” Immediately, a gigantic net came down on Oscar. His eyes wide, he slid his blade over the core of the spell. But the spell, which should have been torn to pieces, repaired itself. Ballooning, it rushed for him. Oscar took a huge leap back, but the spell closed the distance immediately. The magic net reached him, invisible webbing entangling itself around his entire body until he couldn’t move. Oscar narrowed his eyes at Tinasha. “What the hell is this…?” “It’s what Travis did to me before. Unless you strike its multiple vital points at the same time, it will reconstitute. The real thing sank through to the bone. It seemed like I could use it, so I crafted an imitation.” “…I see,” Oscar remarked, perhaps saying nothing more beyond that because he sensed she was taking her vexation out on him. Once she undid the spell, he sighed and walked back over to her. Checking his grip on his sword, he beckoned to her. “Your turn now, then.” “Go ahead.” Oscar hated the idea of bruising Tinasha, but once he got into the practice mentality, he struck at her mercilessly. And though he was going easy on her, he didn’t balk at injuring her. Someone else may have objected, but Tinasha was grateful for it. No pain, no gain—she didn’t expect it to be otherwise. And besides, once she sunk into the thrill of battle, it hardly bothered her. Catching her breath, Tinasha lifted her sword and leaped off the ground toward Oscar. The air around her was imbued with an illusion of crystal-clear awareness. Nephelli’s personal mage, Gait, pondered what to do next as he guarded her door that evening. Oscar and Als had alluded to a traitor among the party from Yarda. Other than himself, only three officers, one mage, and two ladies-in-waiting had come to Farsas, but he found all of them to be trustworthy. He wouldn’t know which one to suspect. Nephelli didn’t know about the turncoat, but she tended to stay shut up in her room, perhaps suspecting that something was amiss. Recently, she took all her meals alone there. “Can Princess Nephelli hold out like this…?” “What’s wrong?” came a voice to his side, and Gait looked over to see the other mage who had come from Yarda. He had brown hair and a friendly face, and he was eminently capable despite his youth. Gait, who was on his fifth year working as a court mage, winced at the other man. “Oh, Valt. I was just thinking that if we came all the way to Farsas only to be targeted by an assassin, maybe we should have remained in Yarda…” If the enemy only had the courage to act because they were somewhere the king of Yarda couldn’t reach, then fleeing abroad had been a mistake. Strange as it was, Princess Nephelli might have been safer in her homeland. As Gait thought on that, Valt shook his head. “We can handle it better in Farsas. They have the royal sword.” “Akashia, huh…? But we don’t know if we’re up against a mage,” Gait replied. The one sword in the entire land that could neutralize any magic was indeed mighty, but it was only a sword—one that belonged to the king. He couldn’t stay by Nephelli’s side around the clock. Valt laughed when he heard Gait’s concern. “If anything, it’s the bearer of Akashia who’s more crucial than the sword itself. I’m positive he’ll be a strong ally to Her Highness. And as for Farsas, they don’t want anything to happen to a foreign royal within their borders. I’m sure they’ll offer whatever assistance they can. Who knows? Perhaps this might forge a bond between our two nations in the days to come.” The man was referring to a marriage between Farsas and Yarda. Gait frowned on reflex. “Yes, that would certainly be what she also—” Suddenly, a lady-in-waiting and an officer of Yarda arrived with Nephelli’s meal. Gait accompanied them into the room, where another other lady-in-waiting was arranging the princess’s hair. “How are you doing, Princess Nephelli?” Gait inquired. In reply, she gave him a weak smile. Mere day-to-day life seemed to exhaust her. He gazed at this lovely princess, feeling his heart go out to her. “Would you care to venture outside your room? You’ll have your guards, and it would be a shame not to see Farsas while you’re here.” “I suppose…,” Nephelli said with a nod. As Gait’s face fell, the ladies-in-waiting tasted the food for poison and served the princess her meal. She didn’t appear hungry as she turned her attention to it. Gait urged her, “Try to eat just a little. You’re going to get yourself sick.” “I know,” Nephelli replied, picking up a cup of tea and pressing it softly to her red lips. Right after that came a thud as something heavy hit the floor. Gait looked in that direction and saw one of the ladies-in-waiting lying on the ground. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. Bloody foam dribbled from her mouth. Time stood still. The scent of death sucked all sound from the room and wafted into the air. For several horrible, blank seconds, Nephelli’s scream echoed throughout the entire castle, piercing enough to almost cut through that binding spell. By the time people came running in, the lady-in-waiting was already dead. Tinasha did a quick inspection, then shook her head at Kumu and Oscar as they arrived. “It’s a magic potion, though not a rare one. The maker is unknown. Sorry I can’t be more helpful.” “That’s plenty. What was it put into?” asked Oscar. “The soup. Apparently, she died after tasting it for poison.” “We’ll find out who made it,” Oscar declared, already waving over a soldier to issue orders. However, Tinasha moved to stop him. “I don’t think the potion was added during preparation. I ate the same thing myself.” Oscar frowned, and Als added, “Many people had that soup besides Princess Tinasha, and they had no problems. Also, no trace of the concoction was found in the pot. The meal was brought in by a lady-in-waiting and officer of Yarda, but the officer has gone missing. According to her, he’s the one who picked up the meal.” “That’s so suspicious it doesn’t seem real,” Oscar remarked with a snort. Evidently, the dead lady-in-waiting and missing officer had served the princess for many years. The soldier, Eneas, was close with the two ladies-in-waiting, giving him plenty of opportunities to contaminate the food. Such was Gait’s theory. For now, Oscar ordered a search of the castle to discover if Eneas was hiding within. After Oscar and his close associates moved to a nearby council room, Gait bowed his head deeply before the king. “I’m aware this is an imposition, but would you be willing to lend your assistance to Princess Nephelli?” “Of course. We’ll tighten her guard and capture whoever did this.” “Thank you. But I was referring to something more…” Gait trailed off, hesitating. The meaning was obvious. Gait wanted a more fundamental type of aid. Namely, Oscar intervening directly in Yarda’s internal conflict. Was the crown prince in Yarda so unreliable that his subjects had to beg a foreign king for help? Many in the room held scathing opinions of Gait’s request, but it seemed like there was more to the story. Gait continued, though there was a keen uncertainty to his tone. “Princess Nephelli has held you in high regard for ten years now. Won’t you…?” Oscar held up a hand, silencing the other man. Next to him, Tinasha had her eyes closed and a blank look on her face. Oscar scowled internally at the meaning implicit in Gait’s words. It absolutely would not be worth it. He didn’t hate Nephelli or anything like that, but it would be more trouble than anything to take her as a queen or mistress and intervene in Yarda’s affairs. It certainly wouldn’t be fun. However, that didn’t mean he wanted to make a clear rejection of the offer. More than likely, the Yardan royal family had been hoping for his involvement all along. Carefully masking his reluctance behind a calm front, Oscar said, “Understood. I’ll do what I can.” Visible relief washed over Gait’s face. He bowed deeply. Oscar asked him a few more follow-up questions before dismissing him. In an even voice, Tinasha inquired, “Have you decided to get involved?” “Looks like I have no choice.” “I’ll help you, then.” “…Sorry about this,” Oscar apologized as Tinasha faced forward, not looking at him. The king felt somewhat heavyhearted, though he did not know rightly why. “Prime Minister Zisis and Crown Prince Savas were more or less just as you said, Princess Tinasha.” Three days had passed since the attempted poisoning, and Eneas was yet to be found. Renart had gone to Yarda on Tinasha’s orders and was now delivering a summarized account. Originally, Renart worked for Legis, but as of late, he carried out Tinasha’s orders more often than not. The two were in Tinasha’s quarters in Farsas, sipping tea as they went over the report. “When Savas began to dip his toes into assisting with public affairs, he rejected the prime minister’s reform proposal and other suggestions on the grounds that they were ‘too unconventional.’ At the same time, he appointed his relatives to various posts and stripped Zisis of his power. The king grew ill shortly thereafter.” “What are these relatives he’s appointed like?” questioned Tinasha. “Royal blood is all they have, it seems. All they do is waste money on frivolities.” “Hmm… Saving the royal family doesn’t sound much like saving Yarda.” “That might be so. But it’s possible that the royal family considers themselves the country itself,” Renart pointed out. Tinasha had wavered over it considerably, but she only wished to help Oscar, not Yarda. There was no need for her to concern herself with the ethics or future ramifications of the situation.
Chapter 62
57 min read