“Why did you stop me?”
On the way back, Prince Edmund spoke dryly.
Knight Milenia, knowing it was a reproach, bowed her head and remained silent. However, when the prince stared at her, clearly expecting an answer, she reluctantly replied.
“My abilities were insufficient.”
“Was that wolf really that strong?”
“I could have killed it. But you, Your Highness, would not have been unharmed. I couldn’t take such a risky gamble.”
This woman, who prided herself as the strongest under her master, was confident she could kill not only Kyle but also Roka. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do it—not out of mercy or recognition, but because of the blazing sun-like figure behind Roka, ready to explode at any moment.
“It wasn’t a noble wolf, but a mad dog. It was prepared to die with us at any moment. The moment I killed that priest, she would’ve detonated the sun and killed us all.”
The figure, resembling a miniature sun, would’ve obliterated the entire area if it exploded. Milenia, though capable of killing, couldn’t guarantee she could protect the prince from such widespread destruction.
Of course, Roka would’ve been incinerated too, standing right next to the epicenter. It was a mutual destruction. Roka was so extreme that she’d burn her own life without hesitation. It wasn’t a threat but a firm declaration, without a hint of hesitation.
This was the combat experience Roka had gained from her fight with the young girl Kamira. That battle had defined her fighting style.
Even if there was a pit of fire in front of her, she wouldn’t back down. She’d charge in and bite her opponent no matter what.
The prince frowned.
“Is that so?”
“If she had threatened us to back off, it wouldn’t have been scary. Trying to persuade us would’ve meant she was hiding fear. But that wolf…”
She didn’t try to threaten or intimidate. She quietly declared that if her master was touched, they’d all die together.
It wasn’t a desperate struggle but a calm declaration. The non-threatening threat worked, and Milenia couldn’t take such a dangerous risk.
Even if she could survive the explosion, the Third Prince, who had barely managed to manifest a hint of magical power, couldn’t. Should the prince be expected to perish alongside that priest Kyle?
Prince Edmund wasn’t that desperate. He still had much to lose, and the temple’s support remained strong. If he killed Kyle and died in the process, what would be the point?
“Even though she was only at the beginner level of an Expert, the form and quality of her magical power were extraordinary. Born with the power of the sun, she had condensed her own form through some realization, surpassing ordinary Experts by far.”
“I thought she was just a priest or a maid, but she’s a hidden talent.”
The prince sighed and asked.
“Then why not take the priest hostage and force the wolf to submit? Even if it’s out of fear of the Ancient God’s retribution, I never intended to kill the priest from the start.”
“With all due respect, I am not the master.”
It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered that plan.
It was just impossible.
“That wolf, as I am now, I can kill but not overwhelm. Once a fight breaks out, chaos would ensue, and it wouldn’t end quickly.”
“Is it that serious?”
“If such a commotion were to occur within the palace, neither you nor I could handle it. It’s not something that can be dealt with quietly, and it would surely attract the attention of the Celestial Dawn Knight Order.”
The prince was surprised. He knew better than anyone how formidable this woman was.
She was his hidden blade, confident enough to call herself that. For her to admit she couldn’t subdue Roka quickly, the prince could only sigh.
“She’s exceptionally talented.”
“It’s more than that. If we don’t cut her down now, she’ll grow smoothly and become a towering figure leading the Ardein faction. In my eyes, she’s even more of a threat than that priest.”
Currently, the Ardein faction in the empire is practically non-existent, but with the princess breaking through to the master level and returning, it’s only natural for her to gather followers.
Even before that, those who stayed by her side when she fell from grace are considered loyal retainers. Their treatment and rewards will naturally be more generous than those who come later.
To the knight and the prince, Roka was already Ardein’s close confidant and would become the future leader of the Ardein faction, wielding a sword to strike at them. They couldn’t help but be wary.
“I’ll need to consult with the archbishop and come up with a plan.”
The prince muttered.
“I’ll subtly convey my intentions to Archbishop Armata.”
The Goddess of Earth, Nemi.
The Goddess of Light, Elysia.
And the Goddess of Healing, Hilrae.
These three goddesses are outwardly equal, but there’s a clear hierarchy among them, determined by the size of their faith and sects.
Nemi is at the top, Elysia second, and Hilrae has always been stuck in third place. The priests of the Hilrae Church have longed for change in secret.
Archbishop Armata, therefore, is the most radical among the three archbishops of the Grantea diocese. With little in hand but much to gain, he’s the perfect negotiation target.
“Should I convey your intentions to Archbishop Arice and Archbishop Halonen as well?”
At the knight’s question, the prince nodded.
“Proceed with that.”
After all, the leaders of the imperial temple faction are the three archbishops dispatched from the Church Country, and he is merely the face of the faction. Without the authority to make important decisions, he has no choice but to present his opinions to the three.
Everything will be decided by the three archbishops.
*
The first place Princess Ardein headed after leaving the audience hall was her own room.
Delaying her return to Kyle, she went to a secluded corner room, a place hard to find unless you knew the way, but familiar to the princess.
“Edmund. Father said to forgive you.”
The quiet, lonely, and desolate room, so out of place in the imperial palace, filled Ardein’s eyes with anger.
How could she forget her adorable younger brother, who had collaborated with Archbishop Armata to push her to the brink?
“But I cannot do so.”
Every time she looked at the neatly arranged room, the princess’s heart warmed.
Half from anger, half from emotion. Of course, the objects of their feelings were different.
“Even though I’ve been away for so long, you haven’t abandoned me.”
Despite being gone for months, the room was still tidy. Everything was in its place, and there was no dust on the floor or tables. She sat quietly in the center of the small room, clasped her hands, and prayed.
Her eyes moistened as she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was about time.
For the princess, who had struggled to even leave her room, the daily routines of her maids, who were like caretakers, had become familiar over time.
Unable to face them, she turned her back to the door.
They say you know true loyalty in hard times. The two maids who had cared for her until the end were no longer just servants to the princess. They were like family. At least, to her, they were.
“Sigh.”
Unable to bear the wait, the princess reached out and grabbed a doll from the cabinet.
She let out a sigh. After contracting leprosy at a young age, she had spent almost every day in this small room, regretting her past life. Yes, her life had been a series of regrets.
Sometimes, in this very room, she burned with a desire for revenge. Those who had followed her but then betrayed her. The countless royals who had turned on her, despite being family. The temple factions, including Archbishop Armata.
But now, she wasn’t sure. It would be a lie to say she felt no anger towards Edmund, the patricidal traitor, and his associates, but hearing the emperor’s words reminded her of something.
She knew why Edmund hated her so much. Did she have the right to vent her anger at him?
“Meavil. What are you doing there? Come in. Your burden must be heavy.”
Hearing hesitant footsteps outside, the princess spoke kindly, though her voice trembled.
The maid, Meavil, who had been hesitating to open the door, peeked through the crack.
“Who… may I ask who you are?”
In a trembling but firm voice, Meavil spoke.
“This is Princess Ardein’s residence. You shouldn’t enter so rudely.”
Tears nearly welled up in the princess’s eyes, but she suppressed them and slowly stood, turning her head. At first, she didn’t recognize her. The maids were used to seeing her with a mask.
Her radiant blonde hair, which hadn’t been there before, made her seem like a different person from the one who had been ill.
But she was the same person.
Meavil dropped the bundle she was holding without realizing it. Though the atmosphere and appearance had changed drastically, she eventually recognized her. The princess before the illness, whom she had only glimpsed from the corner of her eye.
“It’s me. I’ve truly… returned.”
The princess couldn’t continue. She had to hold back the rising tears.
Meavil screamed. The surroundings became noisy with her cry, and she quickly covered her mouth with both hands.
Then, she couldn’t speak. Her voice wouldn’t come out. Shock blocked her throat, and a shiver twisted her vocal cords.
It took time for her to find her voice, but her eyes were as wide as coins.
Meavil couldn’t tell if this was a dream or reality.
“Truly… truly, Your Highness… Your Highness has…”
“If a miracle were to come and free me from this curse-like illness, I promised I wouldn’t forget your kindness.”
The princess approached her first, embracing the maid. Meavil, overwhelmed by this unprecedented act, didn’t know what to do, but the princess didn’t let go.
A maid. Not even a lady-in-waiting, just a commoner doing menial tasks.
But what did that matter? This person deserved such treatment.
“I’ve returned to keep that promise.”
Those who had reached out when she fell deserved to share in her glory.
If only one more chance were given.
To repay those who had helped her.
To repay the kindness of those who had stood by her.
How many times had she repeated this?
Now, that day had truly come. She would never again turn her back on those who stood by her.
She would never again reject those who were on her side. The princess vowed this.
