‘At last,’ Lesta thought.
‘I’ve reached them.’

It had been two weeks since she’d replied to the letter from Eldrian Sunray, heir to the House of Sunray. Now, his answer had arrived.

[I’ll depart at once.]

Unlike the elaborate letter he had originally sent, this one was brief, which Lesta preferred. It revealed Sunray’s impatience.

Her gaze shifted to the doll on her office desk, modelled on Dominic Blackwood and wearing a silver mask.

Although Dominic no longer wore that mask, the best-selling version of the doll was still the one wearing it.

The newer models had masks that could be removed to reveal his face underneath. However, the mask on Lesta’s doll could not be removed.

When the doll was first made, no one knew what face lay hidden behind the mask.

‘It was mine.’

Until Dominic revealed his face to the world two years ago, Lesta had led countless labyrinth and monster subjugation missions under that silver mask.

Now, only two parties knew the truth: the House of Blackwood and the sorcerer who had created her.

After losing the village of Ernel, Lesta quickly realized that she could never take on Blackwood alone.

The elite knights who wielded sword auras were her equals in combat, and Blackwood had no fewer than thirty of them, along with five court magicians.

‘I have a feeling there’s someone else out there who was made the same way I was.’

She knew that she couldn’t rush in recklessly; she wanted to destroy every Blackwood. She needed allies.

Sunray was the first person she thought of.

“If not for Sunray, I wouldn’t have to live like this.”

While Lesta raised Dominic’s profile, he remained hidden away, enjoying everything she could never have and resenting the restrictions that came with it.

Lesta had pledged her soul to a dark god in Dominic’s stead, crossing battlefield after battlefield under the weight of that curse. Yet Dominic resented her simply because she could not attend social gatherings.

“What can we do? Sunray’s power still outweighs ours for now. We’ll have to wait.”

“It’s that b*stard, Eldrian Sunray. Even after all I’ve achieved, why is he still more admired than I am? Hey—you’re doing your job properly, aren’t you?”

Isabella and Dominic were sitting opposite each other on a soft sofa, nibbling sweet biscuits and chatting idly. Lesta knelt on the cold marble floor in front of them.

They amused themselves by watching her remain motionless and starve, showing no signs of complaint or resentment.

“Eldrian Sunray’s gift really is remarkable.”

Isabella had said lightly.

“They say he can communicate with beasts. I saw the white wolf he rides once—he’s quite magnificent.”

Upon hearing her words, Dominic’s face contorted with fury. He jumped to his feet, strode over to Lesta, and hit her hard on the back of the head.

“I’m stuck in this house because you’re more useless than a wolf! Do your job properly, will you? You useless creature!”

He took out his anger on her with merciless kicks and blows to her body, which was still bearing the scars of a recent brutal campaign.

Lesta’s lip split and her temple was torn, yet she did not utter a sound.

Seeing her remain silent, Dominic muttered,

“Creepy b*tch.”

At the time, she hadn’t realized how wrong it all was; the brainwashing had run too deep.

Even now, freed from that control, the memories burned vividly in her mind.

‘Eldrian Sunray.’

She had once seen him, astride a massive white wolf, riding through the chaos of the battlefield where beasts and men clashed.

Hidden beneath a silver mask, she watched him from afar. Even then, his silver hair gleamed brighter than her own.

To be considered a thorn in Blackwood’s side, he must have been extremely powerful.

That was why Lesta had chosen Sunray as her future ally. But she had no intention of crawling to them first.

She would not bow. Not until she had built up enough strength that, even if she were not their equal, they could no longer afford to ignore her.

And at last, Sunray came to her.

With her chin resting on her desk, Lesta idly brushed her fingers along the doll’s silver mask, murmuring in a half-sung voice.

“From Kaelbur to here, it’ll take at least ten days on horseback. Longer if he’s bringing guards.”

“That sounds about right,” came the calm reply.

The speaker was Nestor, who was lounging on the sofa with his long legs crossed and an open book in his hands.

Despite his imposing appearance, Nestor loved to read.

He had once competed against Lesta for leadership of the Ides Mercenary Corps, but had since become her closest confidant — someone she could no longer imagine living without.

“Since the reply arrived today, he’ll probably reach here in three or four days.”

“No.”

Nestor closed his book and rose to his feet.

“He’s already entered the city gates.”

“What?”

Lesta jumped up and hurried over to the window. Gripping the frame, she looked towards the gate and saw a large, white shape hurtling towards them, moving swiftly and silently.

‘Eldrian Sunray.’

The man astride the enormous white wolf shone in the harsh seaside sunlight, his silver hair scattering light in dazzling flashes.

For a moment, she remembered the battlefield and the same man wielding a sword wreathed in blue fire.

In the blink of an eye, the white wolf had crossed the distance and stopped before the Ides’ stronghold. Despite running at terrifying speed, it came to a graceful halt and the man atop it leapt into the air.

Lesta took a step back instinctively as Eldrian landed on the window ledge before her.

Tap—

He crouched, one knee bent, and their eyes met.

Then, with a smile as bright and fresh as sunlight itself, he asked.

“May I come in?”

Lesta let out a dry laugh, half in disbelief.

“You could have come through the door.”

“I’m impatient by nature.”

She took another step back.

“Then come in.”

“Thank you for the invitation.”

Eldrian jumped down from the window, brushed the dust off his coat, and ran his hands through his windswept hair.

When that didn’t work, he shook his head briskly, scattering sand and grit everywhere.

Watching him, Lesta couldn’t help but think that he was just like a dog.

A big white dog.

Once he had finished tidying himself up, Eldrian spoke in a relaxed tone.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mercenary King.”

“How did you know who I am?”

“I may not look it, but I am the lord of this domain. I make a point of remembering important things. Mercenary King Lesta is easily the most impressive figure in our territory right now. I made sure to study your portrait.”

“I’ve based my operations in the Sunray Duchy, yes, but I’m not affiliated with it. If you’re thinking of charging us just for being stationed here, we can move our base at any time.”

Eldrian studied her face in silence. His violet eyes gleamed as though they were piercing her very soul.

Lesta frowned.

“What?”

“I bet you’re often told that you’re impatient, aren’t you?”

Lesta didn’t answer, but Nestor nodded quietly behind her.

Sensing this, Lesta turned and glared at him. He only shrugged, his eyes saying, “You know it’s true.”

“We’ve only just met, and you haven’t even welcomed me yet. Won’t you?”

“If you’d come in through the door, I’d have welcomed you with open arms.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you were such a stickler for propriety.”

“And you, my lord, seem to have thrown propriety out the window. Sit down. You must be thirsty after that long ride. Let me get you something cold to drink.”

“Thank you for the hospitality.”

Eldrian took a seat on the sofa, giving a small, polite nod as he did so. At that moment, he looked every inch the refined nobleman, so much so that it was hard to believe he was the same person who had just jumped through her window on a wolf’s back.

Lesta opened the office door and called out.

“Toma! Bring me a cup of cold tea!”

“What?”

“Tea! Something cold! And make it a good one, it’s for the young lord!”

“For who?”

“The young lord! It’s for him!”

Eldrian couldn’t help but smile when he heard Lesta’s voice echoing down the hall.

To be honest, he had been feeling nervous on the way here. After all, a woman who had appeared out of nowhere, seized command of a mercenary corps, and earned the respect of rough, lawless men in such a short time was no ordinary woman. She had even earned the title ‘Mercenary King’.

The portrait he had obtained with great effort showed a cold, expressionless woman with sharp eyes. Someone who ruled over mercenaries would surely be stern, distant and difficult to approach.

But the real Lesta was…

‘Adorable.’