The esteemed figure, as always, stood with quiet dignity—unshaken.

“What happened?”

The question was casual, almost light.

“As you ordered, we identified the traitors—including that b*stard Grey Rejoy—and killed them all.”

Vermil ground his teeth as he spoke of the betrayal.

Just yesterday, without a single warning, the twenty-sixth assassination attempt on the Crown Prince had unfolded. The fortress burned, Solishar collapsed, and countless lives were lost.

Because one of their own—who had endured hardship alongside them—had betrayed them.

Though the trap had been set to expose the traitors, the damage had been far greater than expected.

“And Princess Lillian?”

“She left immediately, but something felt off, so I had someone follow her.”

“Good work.”

In the northern lands, where blizzards fell like blades, the foundation the Crown Prince had built—fighting against foreign tribes, pirates, and monsters—had been completely shattered.

And because Grey Rejoy had been in charge of intelligence, the blow had been even more devastating.

“How is your condition?”

There was no one stronger than Solishar, yet he was often plagued by violent fits that caused him to lose control.

“I’m fine. Is the fortress cleaned up?”

Despite having suffered a severe episode the previous night, Solishar smiled as if nothing had happened.

His loyal retainer, who was as big as a mountain yet always moved silently, felt something hot rise in his chest at the sight, but he forced it down.

“Yes. All documents have been burned, and the gates are sealed. Our people have been evacuated to safety. Officially… Your Highness is now listed as missing. Green is holding the fortress.”

“Do what you can. If things turn, abandon everything and run.”

It was infuriating! Infuriating!

But they had to remember that security had been completely breached in this situation.

Security had been completely compromised. No one could be trusted, either inside or outside the fortress.

Even those whom the Crown Prince had identified after regaining his senses had just slipped away, vanishing like smoke.

“Your life matters more than some fortress.”

The Crown Prince—who had shed more blood than anyone defending Sarotum Fortress—spoke lightly, as if it meant nothing.

“If we’ve lost it, we can build it again. It’s better than when I was first cast out.”

When he had been driven from the capital to the north, he had been thirteen.

Now, he was twenty-six.

His once-delicate skin had split and healed countless times in the brutal cold, until it hardened into calloused strength.

Solishar held only a longsword in his hand and let out a quiet, effortless laugh.

At first glance, he might have seemed like someone who had given up on everything, but Vermil knew better than anyone what kind of man his lord truly was.

He was a man who could build a safe city from the ashes of total destruction; a man who could stand against the raging winter sea and emerge victorious.

“I left an opening on purpose to find out who the traitor was. This was to be expected. Besides… we have somewhere to go.”

His shadowed gaze turned toward the second floor of the inn they had come from.

“Does that woman truly remember nothing? Could that itself be a trap?”

In a situation like this, everything had to be questioned.

Vermil, determined to protect his lord at all costs, remained wary of everyone around them.

“I thought there wasn’t a single proper mage in the north, but it seems someone handled her memories quite thoroughly.”

Or—she was an actress skilled enough to deceive even Solishar’s eyes.

“And the other two?”

Solishar had precisely identified the three mages who had attempted to assassinate him.

One of them was the woman at the inn who had lost all her memories.

“I’m sorry. We pursued them, but all we were told was that they’re under investigation…”

But the other two had vanished without a trace.

Vermil lowered his head as if he might slam it into the ground. He was unable to continue.

This was the kind of country they lived in — one that sheltered the attempted assassin of the Crown Prince.

Solishar, who was born into privilege but was used to being scorned, simply smiled again.

“I figured as much.”

The only thing left to the Crown Prince was a woman so dull and vacant that it was questionable whether she knew how to wash herself.

Of course, sealing one’s memories and erasing all records was the harshest punishment a mage could receive.

However, someone who had attempted to assassinate the Crown Prince deserved to die.

He handed her over to the magistrate, expecting a proper investigation through due process. Instead, an absurd ruling was issued, as if mocking him outright.

“The magistrate of Sarotum was suddenly replaced yesterday.”

“Busy day, wasn’t it?”

Even with the fortress in flames, the Crown Prince had long ruled over all of Sarotum.

And yet, even the magistrate who should have sworn loyalty to him had been easily replaced, and the legal system he had painstakingly built over years had crumbled into disorder.

“Your Highness, even if she’s lost her memory, a mage is far too dangerous to keep close.”

The reason the Crown Prince suffered such violent fits was, in the end, a curse wrought by magic.

It was impossible not to worry.

“Dangerous from afar, too. But someone who doesn’t even know what soap is probably can’t cast a curse.”

“…Pardon? To that extent?”

Even Vermil—rarely one to show shock—was stunned.

Cold sweat beaded along his back.

‘In a situation like this… His Highness has to take responsibility for someone half-witted?’

“…Your Highness, if even they’ve discarded her, then perhaps it would be best to simply abandon her—”

“If I were going to discard her, I would’ve killed her. That’s easier. But instead, they went out of their way to seal her memories—rushed it through in a single day.”

A slow smile spread across Solishar’s lips.

“Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

Instead of sending the only captured culprit to the Supreme Court in the capital via the correct procedure, her memories were suddenly sealed.

This was not an execution, but a mage’s punishment.

The whole thing was so absurd that it reeked of something suspicious.

This was why he had no choice but to step in and take her back himself.

“Isn’t it an obvious trap?”

In a situation like this, nothing could be trusted.

Vermil knew well that his lord didn’t even fully trust him.

That was only natural—nothing to take personally.

“Everything’s a trap. So we might as well take the biggest bait.”

And drag down the one who cast it—pull them into this h*ll along with it.

The man who had survived like a demon all this time let out a savage smile.

“Take care of the others. If things look bad, don’t be stubborn—cross the border immediately.”

Leaving behind words that meant abandon me if necessary, Solishar turned to go.

From behind him came a quiet reply—

“I’ll begin business operations.”

It meant he would return to the rough, lowly work of the past—rolling through markets and alleys, gathering information and money by any means.

Even as he heard the determination in that voice, the man who walked away never once looked back.

***

The woman dipped her fingertips into the water.

The temperature didn’t please her at all.

Couldn’t it be just a little hotter… and a bit more plentiful?

She furrowed her brows deeply and dipped her fingers into the water again.

She wanted to sink her whole body into warm water and rest.

“…Mm?”

At that moment, a single droplet of water suddenly rose from the basin with a soft plop.

Instead of falling back down, it hovered in midair—swelling, forcing itself larger and larger.

Before she knew it, the mass of water had grown far bigger than the basin itself, slowly drifting toward her open mouth—right above her head.

‘What is that? No—why is the water getting bigger? What am I supposed to do?’

After a moment of frantic hesitation, she squeezed her eyes shut.

With a loud splash, the sound of water crashing down filled the entire bathroom.

Only after a while did she drag her hand across her face.

Water streamed down from the crown of her head, and she wiped it away as best she could before finally opening her eyes.

The floor was soaked, and pale steam hung thick in the air.

She scrambled to her feet and checked the basin.

The water inside was exactly as she remembered—no more, no less.

‘What…?’

Staring blankly at her drenched hands, she slowly raised her palm toward the basin.

“Hi-yah.”

She flicked her hand.

The water didn’t move at all.

“Ta-da.”

Still nothing.

‘Was that not it?’

“Move!”

She leaned in close and shouted at the water, but only ripples spread across the surface from her voice.

The strange floating droplet did not reappear.

“Ri-rise…?”

That wasn’t it either?

She waved her hand repeatedly, trying again and again—when suddenly, she heard movement outside, followed by a knock on the door.

“What are you doing?”

It was the guard.

At the low voice, she flinched and instinctively curled in on herself, staring at the door.

“What were you doing?”

There was no easy way to explain it.

And especially not now—when Momona had clearly warned her that using magic would mean death.

She wasn’t even sure if what had just happened counted as magic.

As the accused stared down at her hands once more, the voice outside, now resolute, spoke again.

“I’m coming in. Cover yourself if you need to.”

The door opened.

But there was nothing for her to cover up with.

She hadn’t had time to undress, so she was still fully clothed and completely soaked through.

Crouching low and clutching the basin as though it were her only lifeline, she looked up at the guard with wide eyes.

Through the thick steam, he spotted her small figure, and for a long moment, he said nothing.