Larinne steadied herself and calmly summoned her holy power. A white light flowed from her fingertips. She could feel his persistent gaze from right in front of her, but she pretended not to notice and focused on the curse instead.

“You don’t have to be so tense. I have no intention of devouring you.”

‘Not yet.’

The playful whisper he added made heat rush to her cheeks.

“…Your jokes go too far.”

“Did you know something?”

Instead of answering, Larinne lifted her gaze slightly to look at him.

His crimson eyes curved softly.

“When a Lemen has a Companion Dream.”

At the sudden topic, Larinne’s body stiffened.

‘Why bring up Companion Dreams all of a sudden?’

Something she had momentarily forgotten came rushing back.

The moment she became aware again that Libehi Winterd had appeared in her Companion Dream, her heart began to beat faintly.

The man’s languid whisper continued.

“That one must act exactly as it occurred in the dream.”

Was it her imagination, or did the downward sweep of his gaze feel strangely suggestive—just like the man she had seen in the dream the night before?

Tension tightened around her throat.

With dry lips, Larinne barely managed to speak.

“…I don’t understand why you’re suddenly bringing up such a thing.”

Even as she spoke, the scene from the dream flashed through her mind.

The cool touch of his hand against the nape of her neck. The soft, warm sensation that settled there. And the sharp, tingling pain that followed.

Those memories surfaced one after another, transforming into heat.

Before she realized it, her cheeks were burning.

‘Do I really have to do that… with this man?’

Why had he suddenly brought up Companion Dreams?

She could not read his intentions.

The way he asked the question so casually almost made it feel as though he had dreamed the same dream she had last night.

‘…But can the other person from a Companion Dream have the same dream too?’

She had never heard of such a thing.

No—more precisely, she had never been able to hear about it.

Larinne had never had parents who could explain the various changes that appeared when a Lemen came of age.

Then she suddenly realized that the man’s crimson gaze had settled on her lips.

Her entire body tensed.

The man stared at Larinne, who had frozen in place with tension, before slowly lifting the corner of his lips.

It was an unbearably sensual movement.

“Of course, I will only act that way with your permission.”

Was this also the influence of the Companion Dream?

Because her heart was racing wildly on its own, Larinne could not possibly laugh along with him.

***

By the next day, Larinne had come to a firm conclusion.

Libehi Winterd was a dangerous man.

Leaving aside the fact that he resembled that person, there were too many unsettling things about him.

The way he casually said things whose meaning she could not grasp.

The suspicious look in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

And the fact that he seemed to know about Pellet.

There were far too many things that troubled her mind.

As if by habit, Larinne’s steps carried her toward the path behind the castle.

There was nothing better than a walk to clear her tangled thoughts.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Larinne.’

She decided she would keep watch over him—but avoid becoming deeply entangled with him if possible.

And yet, at the same time, the memory of those crimson eyes lingering on her lips kept resurfacing, unsettling her.

The air around her felt strangely warm.

Her lips burned faintly for no reason.

Even after walking for more than an hour, her mind remained dizzy.

She needed to shift her thoughts elsewhere.

Something that could bring her firmly back to reality would be best.

— Screeeech.

At that moment, a familiar cry sounded from somewhere not far away.

It was the cry of a red-tailed desert hawk.

Larinne could recognize that cry unmistakably—even in the middle of a sandstorm.

“Horus.”

The red-tailed desert hawk, Horus, was a special existence to Larinne.

Horus was not a messenger bird of the imperial family.

She had personally rescued and raised him since he was a chick, so he belonged entirely to her.

Because of that, she could safely entrust him with letters meant for Pellet.

As Larinne turned toward the direction of the cry, a shadow soon crossed her face.

‘Did something happen to Pellet?’

A bad feeling crept over her.

The timing of the messenger bird’s arrival stirred her anxiety.

There was a promise between Pellet and Larinne.

“Messenger birds must always be sent when the moon has risen.”

The merciless desert sun created brutal conditions for flying at full speed.

And it was also meant to avoid the possibility of watchful eyes.

There were only a few reasons to break that rule.

A dire emergency.

An urgent message.

Or a plea for help.

Returning fully to reality, Larinne’s face settled into calm determination.

Without hesitation, she headed straight toward the graves near the abandoned temple.

The hawk always waited for her there.

‘I hope it’s nothing serious.’

To ignore the unease creeping into her chest, she quickened her pace. By the time her hurried steps reached the meeting place, murmured voices drifted through the air.

‘Who is that?’

Larinne stopped and slipped behind a collapsed stone wall.

A place where only the messenger bird should have been now held the long shadow of an outsider.

Holding her breath, she carefully checked the stranger’s face.

At that moment, the man turned slightly.

The line of his profile was unmistakably familiar.

“!”

A hot wind swept past, brushing her cheek before rushing away.

‘Why is that man here?’

Black hair fluttered vividly against the desert sands.

The man stood with quiet arrogance beneath the blazing sky, a red-tailed desert hawk perched on the back of his hand.

‘That bird never perches on another person’s hand…’

She could hardly believe what she was seeing.

Horus never gave his trust easily.

Especially not to men.

During the height of summer, when prey was scarce, if Larinne did not personally bring him food, the hawk would stubbornly choose starvation rather than perch on someone else’s hand.

And yet—

Why was he sitting so comfortably on a stranger’s hand?

As though they had known each other for a very long time.

Skreeee.

The red-tailed desert hawk spotted Larinne, frozen in confusion, and flew toward her.

Following the path of the bird’s flight, the man’s gaze naturally landed on her.

Their differently colored eyes met and intertwined.

When he saw Horus settle onto Larinne’s shoulder, the man let out a quiet sound of realization.

“Ah… so it was your bird after all.”

“……”

“I had a feeling it might be, since its eyes resemble yours so closely.”

Why did such a simple remark feel so embarrassingly intimate?

The strange curve of his crimson eyes was almost hypnotic.

Without trying to recall it, the conversation they had shared in her room the previous day surfaced in her mind.

The hot desert wind kept brushing against her skin, heating it further.

This was dangerous.

The thought came instinctively.

Trying not to reveal her tension, her fingertips stiffened and her tone grew colder.

“This bird does not perch on a stranger’s hand. What did you do?”

The man fell silent for a moment.

He slowly blinked once, then a faint smile appeared on his lips.

For a brief instant, Larinne thought the smile looked strangely lonely.

‘A useless thought.’

“I hope you won’t be angry. I only… helped because it had been caught in a trap.”

A trap?

Only then did she notice that the hawk standing on her shoulder was balancing on just one leg.

Larinne’s face went pale.

“Horus!”

The desert hawk flapped its wings lightly, as if to say it was fine.

But the way it struggled to balance on its broken leg only made Larinne more anxious.

“How did this happen?”

“You need not worry. I gave it first aid. If it rests for a month or two, the bone should mend quickly.”

Just as he said, a thin wooden splint and cloth had been carefully wrapped around the hawk’s leg.

When their eyes met, Horus widened his blue eyes and rubbed its cheek against the back of Larinne’s hand.

The gesture felt as though the bird was comforting her.

“Thank goodness… I’m so glad you’re not badly hurt.”

She whispered softly, gently pulling the hawk into her arms.

Ever since that person had left, Horus had been the only memory connecting her to him.

The bird was far more than a mere messenger.

As Larinne slowly began to recover the peace she had lost, a ripple passed through the crimson pupils watching her.

They resembled the gaze of a starving predator that had just discovered its prey.

“It’s a clever bird. Even while tangled in the trap, it tried to protect the letter until the very end.”

Larinne only then noticed the letter in Libehi Winterd’s hand.

Her heart dropped.

‘It’s a letter from Pellet.’

Judging by the texture of the paper, there was no doubt.

For security reasons, the letters exchanged with her companions were written on water-soluble paper that dissolved easily in water.

‘Did he read what was inside?’

Her eyes moved quickly as her thoughts raced just as fast.

The image of Libehi Winterd standing among Lady Dius and her entourage, conversing casually with them, flashed through her mind.

She still could not determine whether he was an enemy or an ally.

‘What should I do? Should I threaten him under the pretense of treating his curse?’

Threatening someone by holding their life in her hands was not a method that suited her.

Larinne assessed the situation with a careful glance.

‘Judging by the way it’s folded, it doesn’t look like it’s been opened yet.’

As she remained wary, he calmly extended the letter toward her.

“I have not opened it.”

His words were true.

There was no sign that the letter had been opened, nor any sign that it had been tampered with.

Even so, Larinne could not easily let down her guard.

“How did you come here? Even if you were invited as an honored guest, you cannot simply wander about wherever you please.”

“Are you… worried?”

“What?”

“…Just talking to myself. You need not concern yourself with it.”

The way his lips moved as he spoke strangely caught her attention, and she found herself speaking almost impulsively.

“Is there something you want?”

His gaze settled upon her face.

“What could I possibly want from you?”

For a moment, an unfamiliar heat flickered in his crimson eyes.

The way he looked at Larinne grew increasingly intense, almost indulgent.

“I cannot offer a grand reward, but I would still like to show my gratitude.”

“You must cherish that bird very much.”

“……”

“I thought as much when I saw how readily you offered thanks to a stranger you cannot even trust.”

It felt as though he had uncovered her secret.

Even Seidon—her fiancé—did not know the bird existed.

“Or perhaps the letter is from someone you have been waiting for.”

Was it her imagination, or did his lips twist slightly as he spoke?

In many ways, he was a man who seemed to toy with her.

Larinne quietly clenched her fist.

“As you said, Horus is very precious to me. I wish to repay you for treating his injury. If there is nothing in particular you desire, then I will send something at my own discretion.”

“You may do as you wish.”

“And regarding the letter…”

Larinne paused and studied his eyes.

“I would appreciate it if you kept it a secret.”

She spoke carefully, trying to judge whether such a request would arouse suspicion.

But Libehi Winterd spoke first.

“It seems a sandstorm will arrive soon.”

Larinne narrowed her eyes.

It was an expression used among the Lemen.

The idiomatic meaning was: “I will scatter your secret into the sandstorm.”

“For the time being, it would be wise not to let the bird fly around here. If a particularly jealous hunter were to discover it… who knows what might happen.”

Before she could ask what he meant, the stranger had already turned and begun walking away.

In the distance, a sandstorm could be seen approaching.