“Search from this side!”

The ballroom, once filled with sweet melodies, now echoed only with shouts and the clatter of swords and armor. The grand banquet that had opened in such splendor hadn’t even lasted a full day before collapsing into chaos.

Princess Bianca had been attacked within the imperial palace itself—at the Emperor’s own birthday celebration. The assailant was caught on the spot, yet the guests remained confined. Every single one of them was to be searched in case of accomplices.

Regardless of status, all were subject to the Imperial Knights’ inspection. Given the circumstances, even nobles who normally would have protested at such ‘discourtesy’ obediently complied. Complaining in such a moment was nothing short of inviting suspicion, and being branded with the stigma of treason against the royal family was the last thing anyone wanted.

“It’s rather noisy outside.”

Apparently even the guest palace, reserved for the noblest of nobles, was not exempt from the commotion. The restless footsteps of men echoed beyond the door. Yet Irynsis, speaking in a leisurely and unbothered tone, seemed entirely detached from the tense atmosphere.

“So it is.”

Cassion, calmly fastening the buttons along the back of Irynsis’s dress, was just as unruffled. The two had nearly finished preparing to return to the Pathsbender ducal residence in the capital.

“It won’t be easy to leave just like this, will it?”

“Doesn’t seem so.”

After all, a member of the imperial family had been attacked. They could hardly slip away as if nothing had happened. As expected, the ruckus outside drew nearer and nearer—until, without so much as a knock, the door swung open.

“What is the meaning of this insolence?”

Cassion’s expression soured as he glared at the knights who marched inside.

“Our apologies, Your Grace. The situation is urgent, and we beg your pardon for the intrusion.”

The knight-commander, unable to conceal his unease, offered apologies at once to both Cassion and Irynsis. No matter how dire the situation, barging into the chamber of the Duke and Duchess of Pathsbender was unacceptable—and he knew it well. But the man who had ordered him to do so clearly did not care for such considerations.

“Leaving already?”

Parting the knights, Crown Prince Declan appeared at the rear. His brow furrowed at the sight of the couple dressing as if to depart.

“I heard you were unwell. Why are you leaving so soon?”

Even at his sudden question, Irynsis replied without the faintest sign of fluster.

“I am unwell, which is precisely why I would rather rest in a familiar place.”

“My wife has regained some measure of stability, so we’ll return home now.” 

Declan let out a short, mirthless laugh, running a hand through his hair. Anger burned in his chest.

Since her memories had returned, Irynsis’s every move had been a source of delight to him. But this—this was the first time she had brandished a blade so close to his throat.

He had come expecting to see her cornered, her face pale before iron bars. Instead, he had found an empty room and the holy relic gone. The shock of it was enough to strip the thrill from the hunt itself.

Declan had always believed he could seize Irynsis whenever he wished. Yet standing before those vacant bars, his conviction had faltered for the first time.

This couldn’t be allowed. Not now. Not ever.

“You cannot leave.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Duke, have you not heard? Princess Bianca was attacked. You were with her not long ago.”

“I assumed it was nonsense. It sounded too absurd to be true.”

“And yet the absurd has happened. No one who attended the banquet is permitted to leave without inspection.”

In truth, the order to search the guests had not been issued immediately after Bianca’s attack, but only once the disappearance of the holy relic had been discovered. Still, Declan was quick to twist the story.

“Of course, I could hardly allow common soldiers to rummage through the chambers of a duke and duchess. That is why I came personally—so do not take offense.”

The truth was simpler: he feared the knights would shrink back under the ducal couple’s presence and fail to do their duty properly.

Irynsis and Cassion exchanged a brief glance. In that moment, Declan caught the faint curve of a smile at Irynsis’s lips, and bit his own hard.

‘A smile?’

Do you really think this is a moment you can smile in? If you didn’t take the relic, then who else could it be?

Impossible. No matter how he thought on it, Irynsis was the only one who could have stolen it. Had she hidden it somewhere beyond reach?

If that was the case, then Declan would not back down. He would tear her apart piece by piece if that was what it took to drag the truth into the light.

“If that is the case, we must cooperate, mustn’t we, Cassion?”

“Indeed. Search to your heart’s content.”

With unshaken composure, Irynsis and Cassion each took a step back and seated themselves on the sofa at the side of the room, making clear they had no intention of interfering.

The knight-commander exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

“Then, with your leave…”

As he offered a polite greeting and gestured to his subordinates, the people inside the room began to move busily. Declan’s gaze clung to Irynsis, who was leaning comfortably against Cassion’s shoulder, and would not leave her.

***

Just a moment ago, in the Crown Prince’s chamber.

Irynsis had been hesitating—should they break down the iron bars, or try to carry them out whole? At last, she reached a hand inside.

“What are you trying to do?”

“It’s too much to carry it out like this.”

Cassion was right. If Aeva had truly stabbed the princess, the security of the imperial palace would have been tightened to the extreme. Smuggling something this large outside would be nearly impossible.

“I’ll have to wake the god here.”

At Cassion’s question, Irynsis blinked in puzzlement before withdrawing her hand from the bars. Then, she opened the small fist she had been lightly clenching and showed him.

Nestled in her palm was a round tuft of feathers, so small it was completely hidden by her hand.

“What is that?”

“Probably Ventus’s relic?”

This? Cassion cast her a suspicious look, then glanced down again.

“Pyorruruk?”

The tiny creature, meeting his gaze, tilted its round head from side to side and let out a strange sound. It was a bird unlike any he had ever seen. Its eyes shone as if cut from obsidian, and its feathers were as white as snow. Whenever the bird shivered, its glossy plumage scattered fragments of light.

“Hello?”

“Pyorruruk!”

When Irynsis greeted it softly, the bird gave a pleased cry and rubbed its whole body against her palm, as though it had already taken a liking to her.

“Would you mind if I borrow you for a moment?”

“Pyorrururuk!”

The clear sound, like marbles rolling across a smooth sheet of ice, filled the room. Irynsis once more channeled her divine power into the bird’s body.

The bird began to glow brighter and brighter until, before long, an unfamiliar voice rang inside Irynsis’s mind. Without hesitation, she spoke the name that had echoed there.

“Anima.”

At once, the stagnant air in the room stirred, and a sudden gust began to blow. What might have been only a soft breeze grew stronger, whipping Irynsis’s hair in all directions.

“Come here.”

Cassion moved quickly to her side, pulling her firmly into his arms.

“Pyorruruk! Pyorruruk!”

The bird’s cry rose higher, carried by the rushing wind. Just as it seemed their bodies might be swept away, the gale abruptly ceased. Both Cassion and Irynsis opened their tightly shut eyes.

Where there had been nothing before, a woman now stood.

“Hello, child of light. At last, we meet.”

She had long silver hair the same color as the bird’s feathers, and eyes as dark as the night sky. Every movement of her arms and body stirred a faint current of air, as if she herself were a scattering of petals fluttering on the breeze.

The little bird settled onto her raised arm. It was the relic of Ventus—the Bird of Wind—and within it, the god Anima had awakened.