“Want to run away with me?”
The whispered invitation drifted through the haze of Veronica’s dreams.
That deep, velvet voice seemed to promise escape—as if she only needed to say a simple “yes” to flee to the sapphire depths of the ocean or beyond the crescent moon hanging in the night sky. That was how she knew it couldn’t be real.
The two of them weren’t the kind of people who could flee and find happiness elsewhere. Even if they did end up running away to the end of the world, they’d probably just clasp hands and jump off a cliff together, unable to bear the guilt about all they’d left behind.
Sometimes, free will meant nothing when pitted against deep-seated principles.
✦ ✦ ✦
After a short reprieve of two days, the church summoned them again.
As Veronica emerged from the tent on the second morning, her gaze traveled upward from the pair of polished boots waiting outside, and her eyes widened in recognition.
“Oscar? It’s been ages! Have you been well? No injuries? And what about Hannah?”
Veronica fired questions in rapid succession. Oscar offered an awkward smile before answering each query with measured precision.
“I’ve been perfectly well. No injuries to report. As for Hannah, I’ve arranged special accommodations with a noble family of my acquaintance, so she should be quite comfortable. I’m relieved to see you looking so well, Veronica.”
“I’ve had no reason not to be.”
“When I went to visit you, I was informed you had sustained injuries so severe that your life hung in the balance. I was rather concerned.”
“Injured? Who, me?”
Baffled, Veronica pointed at her own face. Oscar nodded solemnly. After a moment of confusion, comprehension dawned as she recalled her arrangement with Philip, and she let out a soft sound of understanding. This was clearly the excuse he had fabricated to shield her from meeting the Pope. The thought that avoiding His Holiness required a near-death injury was darkly amusing.
“Ah… well, yes, I’ve made a miraculous recovery. Must be the divine blessing from the sacred relic bestowed by the church.”
She played along with Philip’s lie while fingering the necklace at her throat. Her spirits were especially high today after finally enjoying a restful night’s sleep.
Oscar visibly stiffened at the sight of the cross necklace. Finding his reaction curious, Veronica absently rubbed her neck before suddenly recalling the passionate marks that might still linger there from the previous night. Heat flooded her cheeks.
It was at that precise moment that Leon emerged from the tent. Veronica turned to see him clad in light battle armor and felt her heart skip.
“Surely you’re not heading out already? Your fever flared again at dawn. You need to rest.”
“A slight fever is nothing. I’m not rushing into battle, merely taking watch.”
“Even so…”
“Now that the Bahamuts have started opening their eyes, the civilian militia is useless. More importantly, what brings you to our doorstep?”
Leon tucked a strand of her lengthened hair behind her ear, his gaze flicking dismissively toward Oscar. His fingers casually swept across her neck, chasing the evidence of their night together, and Veronica’s shoulders tensed at his possessive touch.
“…It has been some time, Sir Berg. I heard you were gravely ill, but witnessing your recovery brings me indescribable joy.”
“Indeed. Truly a miracle from the divine. Now, state your purpose.”
“My business is with Ms. Schwarzwald.”
The exchange was superficially civil, yet the atmosphere crackling between the two men was charged with unmistakable hostility. Veronica glanced up at Leon in bewilderment. Was he still troubled by her previous claim of affection for Oscar? Surely by now, he recognized that as nothing but words spoken in anger.
“His Holiness commands the presence of Ms. Schwarzwald.”
“And are you privy to the purpose of this summons?”
“Forgive me, but my heart is not so hardened as to question His Holiness’s intentions. After all, I have not been cast aside by the church yet.”
Unexpectedly, it was Oscar who first took a shot. Leon’s expressionless lips curved into a predatory smile.
“Rest assured, I doubt you need to fear abandonment in the future. Why would His Holiness discard the son he’s been keeping safe at his side since the landslide?”
Veronica was genuinely shocked by Leon’s barbed words.
Does that mean that Oscar didn’t participate in the battles at the barriers and the city walls?
Oscar clearly viewed his sanctuary beside the Pope as shameful. When he caught her gaze, his pale complexion flushed crimson. Veronica instinctively sensed a devastating verbal counterattack brewing and hurriedly intervened for Oscar’s sake.
“Leon, enough. I knew His Holiness would summon me sooner or later, and I intended to answer it when he did,” she whispered while tugging gently at his cloak.
Leon’s piercing gaze softened as it settled upon her. The concern lurking in those eyes melted something within her chest, spreading warmth like honey through her veins.
“Don’t worry about me. Remember what I told you yesterday? I sent that letter and used the sacred relic’s power without permission. It’s only right that I answer for my choices,” Veronica continued, her voice a soothing melody. “It’s no different than you attempting to man the walls when you’ve barely recovered. I’ll be back before you know it.”
When she playfully extended her pinky finger, Leon’s frosty demeanor thawed visibly. She grabbed his hand and intertwined their smallest fingers. Despite the childish gesture, Leon yielded without resistance.
In the Rom Archipelago, they believed that the pinky finger formed a bridge between souls. So this simple act was, in essence, a binding of spirits.
“Just promise me you’ll return safely,” Leon said, voice dropping. “Nothing else matters.”
His tone suggested that if she refused to promise, he might spirit her away himself, consequences be damned.
“Of course,” Veronica answered easily. “I promise.”