Episode 104
Francis sneered as the trembling low-ranking priest continued to speak.
“Where did you see her?”
“B-beneath the prayer hall, in the purification chamber…!”
“Lead the way.”
“Ah…”
The young priest glanced at the Cardinal, their eyes meeting briefly before he averted his gaze. He was terrified that if he didn’t comply, the knights from the Bricesys Empire might actually slaughter every priest in the Holy Nation.
The Bricesys Empire was that kind of place. Its Emperor was utterly mad, and many nations absorbed into the empire had been reduced to submission.
Even though the Holy Nation was a sacred kingdom under the Goddess’ blessing, if the Empire sent its ability users and waged war, the Holy Nation could be at risk.
This fear weighed heavily on the young priest, whose parents had been nobles of a small kingdom destroyed by the Bricesys Empire.
“…Ugh…”
The priest, on the verge of tears, led the way. Francis held the scarf in his left hand, ready to cover his eyes, and gripped his sword in his right. His subordinates, trailing behind, could sense Francis’ determination and believed he might truly capture Princess Yvonne.
“T-this way, ugh… this way…”
The young priest was terrified of the imperial knights’ intimidating armor. His heart pounded as he walked ahead, stealing glances back now and then. Each time he looked back, he met the cold, piercing gaze of Francis, who scanned his surroundings with unrelenting focus.
To the young priest, Sir Francis was a figure of pure terror. His fiery red hair, deep navy eyes like the night sky, and stern expressionless face left an indelible impression.
Francis, unlike the moments he would occasionally laugh bitterly in Yvonne’s presence, seemed entirely drained. His Emperor, to whom he had pledged unwavering loyalty, was unhinged, and the Princess he had believed devoted to the Emperor had fled.
He had never anticipated Yvonne leaving. Her words, actions, and even her demeanor had seemed so genuine.
But that had been his perspective. To Yvonne, she had likely felt like nothing more than a pet, never treated as an equal—not even once.
“This is the purification chamber!”
“Open it.”
Francis tied the scarf around his eyes. Despite being blindfolded, he could still fight exceptionally well as a master swordsman. He also knew Yurian was in Apentina and that no one in the Holy Nation could match his abilities.
Creak.
The door opened, and the sound of clear running water echoed off the walls, filling the space and reaching Francis’ ears.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Francis pulled off the scarf, his gaze turning sharp as he found no trace of anyone inside. He glared at the trembling priest.
“She… she should be here…!”
“Hah.”
Francis let out a short, bitter laugh, the faint hope he had held onto vanishing into thin air. His mood soured further.
* * *
“Shouldn’t we inform the Cardinal before leaving?”
“No.”
Yurian, still in his wet clothes, held Yvonne’s hand and led her toward the gate. Yvonne, uncomfortable in her damp clothes, was puzzled but followed him, surprised by his urgency.
“Why?”
“Pursuers have arrived.”
“Pursuers?”
“…Yes.”
Yurian sharpened his hearing using his ability. From the upper floors, he could make out Francis’ and the Cardinal’s voices.
Yvonne assumed the pursuers were Apentina’s trackers working with the Marquess, but Yurian knew they were knights from the Bricesys Empire.
“What happens if we’re caught?”
“It would be dangerous.”
Yurian chose his words carefully, not wanting to alarm her unnecessarily.
“Don’t worry, Yvonne.”
Despite the circumstances, Yvonne felt reassured by Yurian’s gentle squeeze of her hand, his warmth grounding her amid the chaos.
Reaching the gate, Yurian adjusted the mana stone above it, likely setting it to transport them to his estate. When the gate finally activated, he turned to her.
“Please trust me, Yvonne.”
“I do.”
His crimson eyes met her violet ones, and Yurian’s heart pounded loudly, a feeling he didn’t bother to hide.
“I’ll go through first.”
“Alright.”
He wanted her to feel safe, so he took the first step, vanishing into the shimmering portal.
At that moment.
“I’m sorry.”
Yvonne shut the gate as soon as Yurian crossed. Knowing how to adjust the stone to set the destination, she deliberately scrambled the coordinates before reopening the gate.
—Search the area!
The sound of armored footsteps echoed nearby. With no time to hesitate, Yvonne stepped into the gate, leaving behind the chaos closing in.
* * *
Yvonne arrived in a rural village.
Uncomfortable in her wet priestly robes, she picked up a discarded cloth nearby to wrap around herself. Pulling a gold coin from the spatial bracelet she wore, she headed to the nearest inn.
The inn was moderately shabby, with few customers. As her damp hair dried, Yvonne approached the innkeeper.
“One room. And I need someone to run errands.”
“Yes, ma’am. What kind of errands?”
“Clothes and food.”
“Understood. The cost will be—”
“This should cover it. I might stay a few days.”
“Certainly!”
The innkeeper, surprised at the gold coin, handed Yvonne a key, trying to get a better look at her face. But her head was partially covered by the rough cloth, leaving only her striking violet eyes and elegant nose visible.
“I’ll show you to your room.”
“Alright.”
Yvonne simply wanted to warm up and rest. Guilt weighed on her for betraying Yurian, and her body felt weak from the strain of having so many abilities undone at once.
“This way!”
“Thank you.”
The room, though the inn’s best, didn’t meet Yvonne’s standards. Compared to the luxury of her life as a princess or a duchess, it was far beneath her usual accommodations.
Still, it would do.
“Tell the errand-runner to bring dye as well.”
“What color would you like?”
“Black.”
“And the clothes? What style?”
“Anything. Men’s clothing.”
“Are you traveling disguised as a man?”
“Yes.”
Yvonne answered curtly and entered her room, shutting the door. Only then did she feel truly alone.
The reality of her betrayal hit her again, souring her mood further.
Trust me, Yvonne.
The memory of Yurian’s earnest words surfaced, and she furrowed her brow. His innocent smile flashed in her mind, making her chest tighten.
Had he really trusted her not to betray him?
Yvonne knew Yurian wasn’t a careless person. In the original story, he was thorough and calculating. Yet he had accepted her words without question, even showing her such foolish sincerity.
She couldn’t trust the original story anymore, especially when it came to the Marquess. The man who had once sacrificed himself for her had tried to kill her instead.
And she had been the one who drove him to that point.
Yvonne tried to believe that things had turned out for the best. Perhaps she and the Marquess were never meant to be.
She was aware of the Marquess’ efforts. Her own had been significant too.
But the more they tried, the less they trusted each other. In the end, he had crossed a line, deceiving her completely.
Even though the Marquess had wronged her, Yvonne couldn’t fully blame him. She felt that his downfall was partly her fault, for not loving him in return.
“Even so, things don’t always go the way we want.”
She muttered the words to herself, as if making excuses. But when they reached her heart, they transformed into guilt.
Knock, knock.
“Ma’am! I brought towels! Also, I need your clothing measurements.”
“Something loose-fitting. And bring plenty of bandages.”
“Understood!”
Yvonne opened the door slightly to take the towel, listening to the faint sound of the innkeeper’s footsteps fading down the hall. She locked the door and removed the rough cloth and wet priestly robes, draping them over a chair.
The bathroom was plain but clean. She turned on the faucet to fill the tub, stepping into the water before it was fully filled.
“Ah…”
The water, unheated, was cold.
Then she heard it.
Click.
A faint sound, like someone quietly opening the door.
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