“I should bring Rose too. She’s my guard, after all.”

“Go ahead.”

Mail pulled the rope on Riela’s behalf, summoning the attendants. In no time, the maids and the ever-loyal Rose entered the room.

Mail asked the maids to help Riela get dressed and clean up, and briefly explained to Rose that they would be going out.

Once again, Mail had a say in Riela’s outfit. It wasn’t anything grand—she simply ensured that Riela wore only one necklace since she had only one neck and only one hair accessory since she had only one head. Even these simple decisions were better than letting Riela dress however she pleased.

When Riela’s preparations were finished, the three of them set out immediately. Rose walked on Riela’s left, while Mail walked on her right. This arrangement had become so natural that it felt as if it had always been that way. As they left the annex, Mail asked,

“So, do you have a specific destination in mind? Somewhere in particular in the main palace?”

“Hmm? What’s in the main palace?”

“…I wonder?”

“I don’t know. Walls?”

Riela responded innocently. Ah, so she really didn’t know much about the main palace when she had that dream. Mail thought that if they ended up wandering around aimlessly and someone questioned them, she’d just say they were heading to the garden or the library.

After walking for a few minutes, they were just entering the main palace when someone addressed Riela from down the wide hallway, even before they had fully rounded the corner.

“…Oh my! And who do we have here?”

The voice was sharp and not unfamiliar. Mail shifted her gaze from the window to the person speaking. …Oh.

“Who am I? The most beautiful princess in the world, Riela.”

“Ha! How shameless.”

“And what’s your name again? Oh, Oatmeal.”

“Who’s Oatmeal?!”

How on earth did they run into her here? Mail stared at the other woman in disbelief. The familiar blue hair rippled like waves, and her jewel-like sky-blue eyes were filled with malice.

This was none other than Ormil Petten, the harbinger who had introduced Mail to a new world. After their last clash, this was their first encounter in several days.

“Not Oatmeal? Then what was it?”

“Ormil! Ormil Petten! How dare you butcher my name like that…!”

Ormil, biting her lip, glared fiercely at Riela. She seemed convinced that Riela was mocking her on purpose with the ridiculous nickname, though in truth, only Riela and Mail knew that Riela had simply forgotten Ormil’s name.

Mail regarded Ormil’s venomous expression with a hint of curiosity.

‘She’s already recovered from that warning in just a few days? That’s pretty fast.’

It was indeed remarkable resilience—or maybe it was just forgetfulness. Despite the threatening words Ormil had uttered about war, she now seemed to have completely forgotten them, instead openly displaying hostility toward Riela just as she had before.

Mail briefly wondered if Ormil’s lack of awareness deserved applause. Did she really not care if her country ended up in ruin due to war?

‘Ormil’s Kingdom and family sure are something. What on earth are they relying on to let her roam free?’

It was just as Mail was marveling to herself. Perhaps because she had already secured a victory before, Riela, wearing a rather relaxed expression, calmly attacked her opponent.

“Hey, just so you know, the name ‘Oatmeal’ suits you much better.”

“What did you say?”

“Because you look like oatmeal. Lumpy and ugly oatmeal! You look exactly the same, right?”

“Wha- what did you say?”

Riela’s verbal assault was effective. Ormil’s eyes bulged in shock, having just been insulted for being ugly. Mail quietly rooted for Riela as she watched the situation unfold.

‘Go, Princess!’

“Every time you look in the mirror, you always think the same thing, right? Ah, how do I look exactly like oatmeal? My name, Oatmeal, must truly be a gift from the gods. I am the ugliest, squished oatmeal in the world! Boo-hoo~ Isn’t that right? Don’t you agree?”

Mail marveled. How could she be so spiteful? She thought maybe her rare brain wrinkles had all gathered and developed just for these kinds of moments. If it was a talent, it certainly was one.

“You, you…!”

Thanks to Riela, Ormil was completely heated up. She was so enraged that she couldn’t even think of a comeback right away.

Her face flushed red, and her tightly clenched fists trembled with fury. As Riela, who had succeeded in her revenge—payback for being called ugly last time—was brimming with confidence, she delivered the final blow to the fuming Ormil.

“Oh, now that I think about it, you also resemble mold, don’t you? Blue mold. Moldy oatmeal—how unappetizing.”

“You wretched brat!”

Ormil, who had no patience left, finally lost her composure and lunged with her claws bared. Her eyes flipped back, and her fury made her look less like a water fairy and more like a water demon at that moment.

No matter how pretty her face was, it couldn’t save her in such a state. Amidst all this, Mail fleetingly thought that.

When Ormil rushed at her so fiercely, Riela was, of course, startled. She stood frozen in place with wide eyes, and just as Rose was about to step in with her trustworthy biceps flexing, something unexpected happened.

“Kyah!”

Thud!

Ormil, who had been running at full speed, tumbled to the ground. The sound was loud. She had charged in, ready to tear Riela’s hair out, but suddenly found herself face-first on the floor. The reason? It was all because Mail had darted out like the wind and tripped her.

Mail had swiftly pushed Riela aside and placed her foot in Ormil’s path, causing her to fall. Her timing was perfect, and her movements were fast and clean. Even Rose, in a moment of admiration, flexed her biceps even harder.

Looking at the collapsed and motionless Ormil, Mail let out a sigh of relief.

“Another life saved.”

Ormil might not know it, but Mail had practically saved her life. If he had let Rose handle it, Ormil might not be unconscious but floating in heaven by now.

Having now prevented two murders after the previous battle, Mail felt quite proud of herself.

Riela, staring curiously at the limp Ormil, spoke.

“Is she dead?”

“No, of course not. She’s alive.”

“But she’s not moving.”

“That’s because she fainted. She’ll wake up in time.”

Mail explained as she called over some passing maids and handed Ormil over to them. The annex wasn’t far, so they would take her there safely. After sending Ormil away, Mail clapped her hands together as if to shake off the dust.

“That was just a little commotion. Shall we continue?”

“Sure. But what did you do just now?”

“You mean the trip?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I learned a bit of self-defense when I was young. One of the moves was tripping an opponent charging at you, like I did just now. It’s not difficult, but it does require a lot of practice.”

“Why did you learn it?”

“Just… I thought it might come in handy.”

“I see.”

Riela, who changed topics quickly, soon lost interest in the subject. Nevertheless, it seemed she was pleased with the fact that Ormil had been dealt with, as she hummed a tune while walking down the hallway.

Mail, who had learned self-defense as a child to protect herself from the many perverts who harassed her, silently watched Riela and fell deep into thought.

‘Is my nightmare… really a possible future?’

For the first time in a while, Mail doubted herself. Riela was like a child—simple, ignorant, and acting on whims like a child.

While she often made reckless remarks that could make others faint with frustration, she generally lacked malice.

Mail had been unsure before, but after spending a few days with Riela, she became certain. It wasn’t that Riela was evil; she just skipped the thinking process before acting.

Could a child kill someone?

Of course, ignorance could sometimes lead to tragic results. Mail recalled once witnessing a child, driven by curiosity, strike a small animal with a rock.

Though she hadn’t checked, the animal was probably dead. The child’s curiosity had led to a life being taken. Innocence could be cruel under certain circumstances.

But killing a person was different from killing an animal, wasn’t it?

There was surely a deeper difference between murder and slaughter. It’s not about judging the weight of the sin but rather about an instinctive aversion to it.

After all, a four-legged, fur-covered animal could be seen as something fundamentally different from oneself, even if it was alive and moving.

However, it wasn’t a person. It spoke like her, had the same appearance, and acted in familiar ways. Even someone uneducated could recognize that it and her belonged to the same category.

It kills something identical to Mail. Could it really be possible to do that out of jealousy alone? Could anyone truly poison a living person just because they were blinded by envy?

Or perhaps…

“Mail.”

Riela, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped. Mail’s train of thought was also interrupted. Having been so deep in thought that she had been looking down the whole time, Mail finally raised her head.

“Uh… What is this?”

“I think we took the wrong path.”

Riela said. Despite not having a destination, she claimed they had taken the wrong path. What could that mean?

It meant that there was no path forward. Mail stared in disbelief at the solid wall blocking their way. A dead end? Seriously?

“Hmm… Just like the princess said, there’s a wall inside the palace.”

“Yeah. So, what now?”

“What do you mean, ‘what now’? We go back the way we came.”

“I don’t remember the way back.”

“What?”