The woman had come to talk about the current operation they were preparing. Though she spoke in a roundabout way, her message was clear: they needed more money. She was asking if additional funding could be arranged.

He could understand her hesitation to say it outright. After all, she had already received substantial financial support. Demanding more without any explanation would’ve felt awkward. It made sense that she’d want to explain the need in person—to look her sponsor in the eye and justify the request.

“A simple note would have been enough. I would’ve agreed.”

“Don’t you think this is actually safer than passing notes back and forth?”

“My movements draw attention.”

Reina tapped the floor lightly with her cane.

A young woman walking around with a cane—it wasn’t a common sight. The unusual pairing made her stand out too much. In other words, she wasn’t exactly suited for discreet meetings like this.

“That’s true, but he still wishes to meet you in person, Reina.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I must decline.”

Her firm refusal made the plainly dressed woman shrug.

“Fair enough. Being cautious isn’t a bad thing.”

“It’s not that I want to be cautious—I have to be. I belong to House Berend. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

“I was under the impression you were working for the Count of Helfried.”

At that, Reina blinked slowly.

She had never dreamed of restoring House Helfried. Grand ideals like rebuilding a fallen noble house meant nothing to her. The only thing she desired was revenge. It wasn’t about recovering anything—it was about destroying everything.

“Well, who knows? The future can change in unexpected ways.”

She lowered her gaze. If all went according to her plan, Reina herself would end up on Zephion’s list of enemies. And once that happened, there would be no one left to reclaim the Helfried name.

“If there’s something you want to tell him, I can pass it on.”

“Nothing…”

Reina began, then stopped mid-sentence. A single thought crossed her mind—Zephion.

He was already fifteen now. Six years had passed since he’d entered House Berend.

And in that time, he had grown just as she had intended—refined, disciplined, and strong. He had received the same education as any noble child and learned to wield a sword well enough to defend himself.

Academically, he performed on par with his peers. But when it came to the sword, his talent was undeniable—natural, effortless, exceptional.

‘Ah, that’s right. He excelled in military strategy too.’

Even if war were to break out again, he would do just fine.

Reina stared quietly at the woman sitting across from her. There was no doubt she served the imperial princess—but could she really be trusted? Would this conversation leak beyond these walls? Reina couldn’t help but be suspicious of everything.

Instead of revealing Zephion’s existence outright, she chose a more indirect approach.

“Do you remember the Marquessate of Baltgar?”

“Valtgar…? You mean the Iron-Blooded Baltgar?”

“Yes. The very same. The house that was wiped out by Berend six years ago.”

“Ah, yes. I remember now. But… why are you bringing up Baltgar?”

“Ask him if he has any interest in restoring House Baltgar.”

The woman tilted her head slightly, clearly puzzled by the question.

“Baltgar was already in decline before its fall. If I recall correctly, the marquess and his wife died during the year of the imperial succession war.”

“There’s nothing wrong with reviving the name.”

“Of course, if House Baltgar still existed, its name alone would make for a powerful ally.”

She let her sentence trail off, stealing a sideways glance at Reina. It was as though she were trying to read Reina’s mind, but when nothing was forthcoming, she simply gave a small shrug.

“I’ll pass the message along. It does seem a bit abrupt, though. Baltgar, of all things.”

“Just send the answer the usual way.”

“Should I also tell him you refuse a face-to-face meeting?”

The woman pressed, a faint edge creeping into her voice.

Reina didn’t bother replying. From the envoy’s perspective, the princess had gone to the trouble of offering a direct audience, and yet Reina appeared ungrateful.

But Reina didn’t support the princess out of loyalty; the royal was merely one more piece to topple the Emperor and destroy House Berend. Had any other imperial survivor surfaced that day, Reina would have backed them instead.

“Tell him I’ll prepare whatever he needs.”

She finished, then left the crowded tavern. Several paces away, Yuta rose from his seat and silently fell in beside her.

“Was it serious?”

“Nothing worth fretting over.”

She replied, planting her cane firmly on the cobblestones. They had left their carriage a short distance away to avoid attracting attention, and she was annoyed at having to walk back. Had the message come by letter, she would never have had to leave the estate.

Inside the carriage, Reina sighed quietly.

“Shall we head straight home?”

She nodded, then paused.

“Let’s stop by Raymond’s shop first.”

“As you wish.”

Raymond’s sold the pastries Zephion adored. Reina bought an armful of treats and returned to the mansion. The moment the carriage halted, Zephion barreled out as if he could smell the sweets from afar.

“Reina! Where did you go?”

Instead of answering, she placed a large paper bag in his arms. From the aroma alone, the boy knew what it held. Beaming, he peeked inside.

“You bought these for me?”

“Of course.”

“This is the best!”

Zephion beamed, his face glowing with joy.

Reina let out a faint smile at his bright expression. As naturally as breathing, the boy reached for her hand. While stepping down from the carriage, she glanced sideways—Yuta was silently watching the two of them with a calm gaze.

“You should’ve taken me with you. Why did you go alone?”

“I just wanted a bit of fresh air.”

This time, instead of leaning on her cane, she gently took Zephion’s arm for support.

When he was younger, he used to insist that he’d always be there to help her, no matter where she went. Whether he still remembered that childish promise or had simply made a habit of it, she didn’t know.

Reina looked at him anew, her gaze lingering.

He wasn’t really a child anymore—no, it felt wrong even to call him a boy now.

‘Maybe… too tall for that.’

The scrawny figure she had once found, all bones and shadows, was long gone. Though only fifteen, he now stood just a little taller than she did. His shoulders, firm with lean muscle from constant, disciplined training, were broad—strong enough to rival any grown man’s.

Sturdy enough to support her full weight without faltering.

“I want to go outside too.”

He said with a quiet pout.

“If it’s somewhere nearby, then it’s fine.”

“Will you come too, Reina?”

“No.”

Her firm rejection made Zephion’s shoulders droop slightly in disappointment.

“But you go out with Yuta…”

“Yuta is my bodyguard.”

“Then I’ll be your bodyguard too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pipi.”

“There it is again! You called me Pipi!”

The boy pouted, his lips jutting out in protest. He hadn’t changed much since he was younger—still smiling so brightly, still sulking whenever she called him Pipi. And despite all his protests, he had yet to realize that the more he sulked, the more she’d call him that.

Reina headed into the lounge and settled onto the sofa. She hadn’t walked far, but the tension in her body had left her feeling worn out. Her legs ached just a little.

Zephion, who had set the snack-filled bag down beside her, naturally took the seat right next to hers.

“Did you finish your studies?”

“I’m done.”

Zephion replied without even taking a breath. Reina narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. The way he subtly avoided her gaze made it obvious—he hadn’t finished everything he was supposed to.

“Bring your books.”

“Reinaaa…”

He groaned, his voice turning into a whine.

“I really did work hard today.”

“Oh? And by ‘work hard’ you mean swinging your sword around all day again?”

“Well, that still counts as working hard, doesn’t it?”