“Don’t take it too seriously. It’s just Harty’s nonsense.”
Kyra shook her head, dismissing what Harty had said.
Britia wasn’t sure who to believe. But right now, she was desperate.
“I have a favor to ask. Please, catch Sig with your own hands.”
Maybe, just maybe, like Harty had said, the spirit would burn away and leave Sig’s body.
Britia grabbed Kyra’s hand as she made her plea. Kyra, startled, quickly shook her head.
“You want *me* to do *what*? That’s impossible.”
If there was anyone in the world Kyra feared the most, it was Sig Turas.
And now Britia was asking her to catch him with her own hands?
Whatever Britia meant by “catch,” it was something Kyra couldn’t even fathom doing. She already got nervous just greeting him, let alone doing something like that. She rejected Britia’s request immediately, much to Britia’s disappointment.
“You won’t even help when I’m begging you like this?” Britia asked, her voice faltering.
“Why are you even asking me to catch him?” Kyra questioned, clearly baffled.
“Sig… isn’t acting like himself right now.”
“Well, that makes me want to stay even *further* away from him,” Kyra said, shaking her head.
Sig was terrifying enough when he was calm and reasonable. The thought of going near him when he wasn’t himself? Absolutely not.
Britia glared at Kyra but then noticed the gloves Kyra was holding.
“You finally finished knitting those gloves, huh?” Britia asked.
“These? I’m not too satisfied with them, but someone’s been bugging me to finish them already,” Kyra muttered, looking tired.
“I won’t ask you to catch him anymore. Just lend me the gloves instead,” Britia said.
“Lend them? No, they’re for—hey, Britia! Wait!”
Realizing what Britia was about to do, Kyra tried to stop her, but it was too late. Britia snatched the gloves and took off running.
“Britia!”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness!” Britia called back as she dashed away.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” the vice-captain asked, chasing after Britia. The gloves—perfectly knitted without a single flaw—were clearly intended for the crown prince. If Britia took those, along with the sweater, the crown prince—who was known to be as jealous as Sig—wouldn’t take it lightly.
“I’ll deal with the consequences later!” Britia shouted, her focus entirely on saving Sig. She tossed the gloves to the vice-captain, who caught them and put them on.
Together, they scoured the palace for Sig. It wasn’t hard to find him, considering how noticeable his large, dark figure was. Soon, they spotted him—possessed by the spirit—tearing apart a tapestry depicting the goddess and four saints.
They tried to sneak up on him while he was distracted, but the spirit noticed them first.
“Britia, I’m sorry about earlier. We haven’t seen each other in so long, and I got caught up in the moment because you kept getting angry at me,” the spirit spoke in a soft, affectionate tone.
“And that sweater doesn’t really suit you. Maybe you should take it off,” the spirit added, trying to manipulate Britia into removing the sweater, which seemed to weaken it.
Britia hesitated, briefly considering doing as the spirit suggested and taking off the sweater.
“Lady,” the vice-captain quietly warned, sensing that Britia was about to give in.
Britia leaned toward him and whispered so only he could hear, “We’re changing plans. When I give the signal, attack.”
She then glanced at him before slowly pulling off the sweater and throwing it to the ground.
“Good girl,” the spirit cooed, giving Britia a charming smile as it extended its hand toward her.
“Let’s not fight over little things anymore. We should be spending our time on love, not wasting it on arguments.”
Britia took slow steps toward the spirit, feeling her heart pound in her chest. Even though she knew it was a trap, walking into the spirit’s open arms was far more terrifying than she had imagined.
“Do you really love me?”
“Of course. I love only you more than anyone else.”
The spirit softly embraced Britia, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
“…I love you too.”
Britia subtly reached down, trying to grab the spirit’s tail. In response, the spirit leaned closer, whispering into her ear.
“Did you think I didn’t know your plan?”
It had hidden its tail deep inside Sig’s large tail to prevent Britia from reaching it. While she fumbled around, the spirit intended to pull out a hidden dagger and strike at Britia’s heart.
“Who would say such a thing?”
Britia tightly grasped Sig’s black tail instead of the spirit’s white one. From the very beginning, it had always been Sig’s tail she aimed for.
“Ah…!”
With a clang, the spirit dropped the knife, and Britia shouted.
“Now’s our chance!”
As the vice-captain reached out, the spirit grimaced.
“I’m sorry, but I can endure this much pain.”
The spirit pushed Britia away and dodged the vice-captain’s punch. But despite its bravado, one of its knees buckled suddenly. It wasn’t just the pain—it was Sig’s will fighting back against its control.
The spirit clicked its tongue in frustration and struck at Sig’s leg. The impact gave it a momentary boost of strength. Just as it was about to hit again, it heard a sound behind it and turned in surprise.
“Ugh.”
Britia seized the opportunity, coming from behind to grab Sig’s tail again. A confident smile spread across her face as she spoke.
“How dare you say I’ve lost interest in you?”
“No!”
The spirit realized what she was trying to do and shouted in protest, but Britia was quicker; her teeth sank into the tail before it could react.
Sig’s body froze in place, unable to scream as the vice-captain’s fist approached.
As soon as Kyra’s gloves touched Sig’s cheek, the spirit let out a scream that pierced through the air and fled from Sig’s body.
The dark mass with white fur glared at them with its glowing red eyes, hurling curses in an unintelligible language.
“Did I do that?”
The vice-captain seemed unable to see the spirit’s true form.
“Not yet! It’s right in front of you!”
At Britia’s warning, the vice-captain dodged to the side. Though nothing was visible, he sensed he had narrowly escaped death.
“It’s on your leg! It’s stuck to your leg!”
But he couldn’t avoid the second attack. The spirit crushed his right leg with a sickening crack. Even trying to kick with his uninjured leg only allowed the spirit to slip through without a hit.
“Ahh!”
As the spirit broke the remaining leg, the vice-captain writhed in agony. Still unsatisfied, the spirit aimed for his ribs next. Britia reached out, trying to grab its tail, but the spirit leaped back, creating distance from the vice-captain.
Britia clenched her teeth, determined to stop the spirit from charging at her. But the body was just too slippery to catch.
“Sig!”
She shouted his name, her voice full of urgency.
She thought it would all be over once she separated him from the spirit!
“Get up now, Sig Turas!”
At the sound of her furious voice, Sig’s fingers twitched, even as he lay unconscious.
“If this keeps up, I’m really going to die!”
Britia yelled, squeezing her eyes shut. Suddenly, Sig’s eyes flew open, and he struggled to stand, his gaze darting around rapidly.
“My lord!”
With both legs broken, the vice-captain threw a glove to Sig. Sig didn’t have time to put it on properly; he twisted his body and swung down at a spot he suspected Britia would be hiding.
He struck with a heavy thud from the fur glove. Britia stumbled back on her butt, finally distancing herself from the spirit.
The spirit huffed angrily as it revealed itself. Sig, now wearing the glove on his right hand, focused his strength into a punch aimed directly at the spirit’s left eye. With a pop, the spirit burst like a balloon, scattering into the air and vanishing.
“Britia. Britia!”
Concerned for her, Sig rushed to Britia and knelt beside her. Britia glanced at his tail, noticing it still hung limply, swaying not at all.
“I love you.”
At those words, his tail began to sway gently.
“I’m so glad you’re back.”
“I’m sorry, Britia. I let myself be so pathetic.”
As Britia spoke with a quiver in her voice, Sig pressed kisses to her cheeks and forehead repeatedly.
“I apologize for ruining the moment, but… could you please call for a priest?”
The vice-captain interjected, indicating he wouldn’t care about their affectionate displays if it meant they could wrap things up.
—
Days later, having endured a perilous reunion, Sig and Britia’s love faced yet another crisis.
“Brother.”
Sig called out to the crown prince in a sorrowful tone from the corner of the large reception room. The crown prince ignored him, engrossed in his book.
Opposite Sig stood Britia. Both were being punished for leaving burn marks on the gloves the crown prince had been eagerly awaiting.
“Brother.”
“Be quiet.”
At the crown prince’s firm, icy words, Sig pressed his lips together tightly.
“The crown princess has arrived, Your Highness.”
One of the attendants informed the prince. Only then did he finally tear his eyes from the book.
“You can go now.”
With a hint that there would be no more leniency next time, he released them from their punishment.
“Britia!”
Sig dashed over to her, his tail fluttering excitedly. Britia shot a quick glance at his tail, then turned her head away sharply.
This was the real crisis.
“Why did you come to me? Go to that pretty Count Slanford instead.”
“You know that wasn’t my intention.”
“I don’t think so.”
Britia scoffed and walked ahead down the corridor, with Sig trailing behind her.
“Britia, today…!”
Sig stepped in front of her, blocking her way to prevent her from leaving.
“Please move aside, Your Grace.”
“No, I don’t want to.”
“Why don’t you want to, Duke Turas?”
“Britia!”
Even as Sig glared at her with eyes full of resentment, Britia merely scoffed again. Of course, she understood that calling her “pretty” wasn’t entirely sincere.
But a nagging thought kept surfacing in her mind. What if, during their time apart, his feelings had truly cooled? Was that what the spirit meant by its taunts?
“I can’t believe Duke Turas would be so fickle, ha!”
Suddenly, Sig scooped Britia up in his arms.
“Your Grace!”
She smacked his shoulder, but Sig remained stoic, keeping his lips tightly sealed.
“Sig!”
Finally, he glanced at her.
“There’s something I must give you today.”
“…What if I refuse to accept it?”
Sig stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Britia’s face.
“If you say you don’t want it, I can’t force you, but I’ll be hurt.”
And with that, he looked at her with a face that suggested the pain would be a lasting one. Without another word, he led her to the room he had prepared two days earlier to ensure she couldn’t escape today. He opened the door, setting Britia inside, then stepped back out and closed the door behind him.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
Britia pounded on the door.
“I’ll open it once you confirm what’s inside.”
Sig’s voice came from the other side. Britia grabbed the handle and twisted, but it wouldn’t budge; Sig must be holding it from the other side.
What was he trying to give her that warranted all this trouble?
With a frustrated frown, Britia scanned the room for any clues. Then her eyes landed on a dazzlingly white dress.
She realized it instantly. It was the wedding dress Sig had said he wanted to make himself. The lace and pearl embellishments looked as if he had painstakingly crafted each detail by hand.
Before departing, all she had seen were a few pieces of lace. How had he managed to finish it so quickly?
He must have had no time. Had he been working on it little by little during the war? Thinking of her, envisioning their future together?
“Will you wear that and marry me?”
Sig asked from the door, watching her reaction through the crack. Britia rushed to him, flinging the door open wide.
“Give me a kiss. You know you’re supposed to kiss at times like this.”
Britia took hold of Sig’s face and stood on her tiptoes.
