Martiana was preparing to leave the temple.

Four days had passed since Siliar arrived and left.

She had never intended to stay this long.

Then again, that might not have been entirely true.

Before speaking with Lawrence, she might have lingered, but after hearing the news about Ramelata, everything changed.

She wanted to go to the Duke of Vandyk’s estate and find out where Licorice was as soon as possible.

In fact, she had tried to leave on the day she heard the news.

Had her brother not stopped her, she would have left by now.

“No. Not alone. Absolutely not. I’ll find someone to go with you, so wait.”

He had insisted that she could not risk getting hurt again. If she wandered off by herself, the same thing might happen.

Martiana agreed.

“All right.”

She had been targeted before. Although she had no concrete proof, she had her suspicions: Drisena. Her mother-in-law.

She could not fully understand the reason behind it. But she was certain of one thing. It wouldn’t end with just one attempt. Not while the intended victim was still alive.

If she wanted to avoid reliving that nightmare, she had to listen to Lawrence.

She was still thin.

She was still physically weak.

She didn’t have the strength to overpower anyone.

She accepted that much.

The problem was—

“When are they coming?”

She had expected the wait to last no longer than a day or two. Instead, it went on and on.

There was no definitive answer as to when help would arrive. Only those who had experienced such a wait could comprehend how exhausting it was.

Lawrence probably did not.

To anyone else, it had only been four days. But for Martiana, who had already spent years waiting in vain, it felt unbearable.

Especially when—

What if I don’t get to see her?

Her anxiety deepened with each passing hour.

One small doubt gave rise to another.

What if Ramelata left with Licorice before she arrived? What if the fragile hope she had only just grasped slipped through her fingers once more?

These thoughts gnawed at her relentlessly.

“This won’t do.”

She could not wait any longer.

At the very least, she needed a definitive answer by the end of the day.

It was better than wasting time like this.

Martiana sprang to her feet.

The way she rolled up her sleeves made it clear that she had made up her mind.

The moment she opened the door—

“Oh.”

The resolve drained from her almost instantly.

“What? Where are you off to?”

Lawrence stood directly in front of her. He raised his hand, ready to knock. Martiana frowned when she saw her brother blocking the doorway.

Her expression revealed both relief and irritation.

She had waited this long.

“Since you weren’t coming, I was about to come find you. Why are you only here now?”

“Ah, sorry. It took longer than I expected to select the right people. I also had to get permission.”

“Permission?”

“Yes. Since they’re knights affiliated with the temple, I needed Uncle’s approval first.”

Lawrence scratched the back of his neck and gestured behind him.

Not to one person, but two.

A man and a woman were standing there, wearing uniforms as white as the temple walls.

The man had blonde hair and blue eyes. The woman had black hair and dark eyes. They both exuded the unmistakable air of seasoned fighters.

Lawrence nodded towards them.

“Go on. Introduce yourselves. They’ll be your escorts from now on. This is Tapnad Wildive.”

“Greetings.”

“And this is Melissa Wildive.”

“It’s an honor, Duchess.”

At Lawrence’s cue, the two bowed in unison.

Martiana inclined her head in return.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. Um…”

Her voice trailed off. Although they had been introduced, she hesitated over how to address them.

Usually, she would simply have called them by their names. But they shared the same surname.

Were they related by coincidence?

Family?

Or were they married?

Depending on the answer, it would have been improper to assume.

Had Lawrence not stepped in, she might have stood there deliberating for quite some time.

“For reference, they’re siblings. Tapnad is the younger one and Melissa is the elder. They both serve directly under the High Priest. You can trust their skill.”

“What? Directly under the High Priest?”

Martiana’s eyes widened at once.

This revelation startled her far more than the matter of titles.

She had already been surprised when Lawrence said they were temple knights, but knights under the High Priest?

That division housed the temple’s most elite holy knights.

Had he brought them to serve as her personal guards?

“Is that really all right?”

“It is. If you need them, why wouldn’t it be? Uncle gave his approval.”

“So don’t worry about it.”

Lawrence answered lightly.

In truth, securing that permission had taken much longer than expected, but he decided not to mention it to his sister. His sister didn’t need to know how stubborn their uncle could be.

What had he said?

That public authority could not be used for private matters.

Yes, that was a reasonable argument. After all, they were knights sworn to protect the Temple, not personal bodyguards.

But Lawrence had not given up.

His sister had finally stepped back into the world. He was determined to see this through, no matter what.

If there wasn’t a convincing enough reason—

—he would create one.

“The next successor to inherit my position as High Priest has yet to be born.”

That was the point he had emphasized.

In any household, succession mattered.

The High Priest’s line was no exception, particularly given that it had been passed down for two hundred years.

According to tradition, Roald, the second son of House Kisca, was destined to father a child with healing abilities.

If Roald had already had a child, the matter would have been settled.

However, years had passed since his marriage and there was still no heir.

In such circumstances, the possibility of a successor emerging from a collateral branch could not be ignored.

Every drop of Kisca blood had to be considered.

This included Martiana, who herself carried Kisca blood.

“Will you simply ignore that possibility?”

But what if Martiana were to give birth to the next heir?

Would they really expose her to danger?

That was how Lawrence secured his concession.

Admittedly, discussing future children was premature, especially since Martiana and Siliar were in the midst of divorce proceedings.

But what mattered was that he had achieved his goal.

“Uncle asked me to pass along his regards. He said you should visit when you have time.”

Lawrence shrugged and glanced at the distant building where the High Priest lived.

The satisfied curve of his lips betrayed his pride.

This drew an unguarded laugh from Martiana.

“You’re right. I’ve been here all this time and haven’t even paid my respects.”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind. You can greet him next time. For now, focus on what you need to do.”

“Mm.”

“Are you leaving right away? For the ducal estate?”

Lawrence asked carefully, studying her face.

He knew she had been waiting.

He assumed she would rush off immediately to find her daughter.

After all, that was her only wish.

But—

“No. I need to stop somewhere first.”

Martiana shook her head.

She had a different plan in mind.

***

“Greetings, Your Grace!”

This is the capital’s bustling district.

Blue lion banners, the symbol of the Royal Guard, were hung along the streets.

As Siliar stepped into the imposing building at its center, uniformed officers in blue bowed sharply.

“Well done.”

He returned the salute with a brief nod.

Perhaps because he had been away searching for Martiana for several days, the salute he received felt even more rigid and precise than usual.

“Welcome back, sir.”

All except one.

The vice commander, Nobil.

“Did you not go home?”

Siliar frowned as soon as he entered the office and saw the scene before him. The stack of documents on his desk had grown considerably in his absence.

Previously, there had only been a few reports from his provincial assignment. Now, however, it was a mountain.

“I haven’t.”

Nobil looked as though he had not slept properly.

Siliar let out a quiet sigh.

“Since when?”

“The day before yesterday. Several cases came in at once.”

“Delegate what you can.”

“I already have.”

Nobil gestured toward Siliar’s desk.

The pile was not as overwhelming as Nobil’s own, but it was still substantial.

At this rate, he would not be returning home anytime soon.

‘This is troublesome.’

He had meant to visit Martiana.

But now, with this—

“Ah. Before you start on those, you should head downstairs.”

“Why?”

“The Duchess is here.”