The suggestion box Fakel had retrieved was so old that its lock had rusted through. Though a key remained, it no longer worked, and in the end Felix had to cut the lock apart with his sword.

When he overturned it, a flood of scraps spilled across the floor. Boreas, newly tended by the physician, sat nearby sipping weak porridge—his first food in days—while watching the scene quietly unfold.

“As I thought. It’s still here.”

Among the papers, worn and yellowed with age, a single stiff sheet stood out, tied with a fine cord.

“This must be it.”

As expected. Carefully untying it revealed the word Contract boldly written across the top, with its contents laid out in detail.

“It even specifies when, where, and at what hour you were to pick a fight.”

Such an absurdly precise order. What if Pandion hadn’t been there at that exact time and place?

“He always was at that hour, without fail, Pandion would be in that tavern.”

So they had investigated him thoroughly.

“Ha… and you took two hundred thousand krang.”

Boreas choked on Edmund’s cutting tone, even though there was nothing in his throat.

Two hundred thousand? The Blackwood bandits had once demanded a hundred thousand krang for him. This was double that.

“It—it was for m*rder, wasn’t it? Surely that much was deserved.”

“A human life priced at two hundred thousand krang? For your own, I’d say you sold it far too cheaply.”

Edmund’s mocking words silenced Boreas, who could only rub at his neck with a guilty hand. For no amount of coin could one truly wager their own life.

“Does it name Count Lorald?”

“No. It’s Kozel Harhichman.”

“Then isn’t that useless as proof?”

I asked. Couldn’t they just cut the tail here?

Edmund shook his head.

“Harhichman’s house would never have the capital to circulate two hundred thousand krang on its own. Whether it came from a bank or a patron, no one lends such a sum without securing a bond. Trace it back, and it will inevitably lead to her.”

A strange tension hung between us. The sense that we were drawing ever closer to the true culprit.

“I’ll look into this bond myself.”

Edmund ordered Felix to keep Boreas under guard—and to maintain constant surveillance, lest he suddenly turn to the Empress’s side.

For a brief moment, it felt as though everything was finally beginning to fall into place.

But the very next day, I realized just how mistaken that feeling had been.

Lucid’s mass sl*ughter of foreigners began in earnest. His claim was simple: negotiations had already failed.

The Emperor forbade violent suppression, yet more than half the nobility had already cast their lot with Lucid. Emperor Kai’s authority was so weakened that he could no longer even name his own successor. Worse still, the people, enraged by the crown’s impotence, rallied behind Lucid as well.

Once more, soldiers marched with rifles, gunning down foreigners on sight in the streets. And yet the foreigners did not yield. Even under a hail of bullets, they charged headlong, setting fire to guardhouses and villages as the civil war roared toward its peak.

Meanwhile, we continued to follow the trail of the bond. At last, we uncovered undeniable proof: the funds had come from the Duchy of Benpatol.

“Good. This will be more than enough to bring down the Empress.”

I believed, as Edmund said, that it would be so.

But that very evening—

“What? What do you mean, the Kingdom of Iojix and the Kingdom of Byrel are—?”

“They say the great powers around us can no longer stand idle while the Empire slaughters foreigners. They’ve begun sending troops and weap*ns.”

The great powers had already started carving up the spoils, and the smaller states—hoping for scraps—moved quickly to throw their support behind the foreigners. Before long, the Empire’s forces began to falter.

At last, unwilling to watch his nation fall into the hands of foreigners, the Emperor ordered a full-scale suppression. But the foreigners, their morale blazing, would not break so easily. Defeat loomed over the Empire like a growing shadow.

Sensing the danger, the Duchies of Forlia and Luft, located behind the Imperial borders, pledged significant military support and dispatched their armies. With the numbers now balanced, many believed that the Empire would triumph.

But it was only an illusion.

“Your Highness, you must flee!”

The past few days had seen skirmishes in Umpha grow fiercer, and now the foreigners had advanced together, driving straight to the Imperial Citadel itself. They surrounded its gates.

“The Empress and Lucid—where are they?”

Another subordinate shook his head.

So they had already escaped. Cowards.

“Felix. Forget me. Protect His Majesty—my father.”

“Your Highness!”

“It’s my order. Now, go!”

Felix stared at Edmund for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. From his inner pocket, he drew a pistol and held it out.

“At least take this.”

“You know I can’t handle a gun.”

“A sword won’t be enough.”

Edmund looked down at the weapon for a while, then, as though hardening his resolve, he finally took it and tucked it inside his coat.

“Let’s hope I’ll never have to use it.”

Felix saluted crisply, then vanished straight out of the office, leaving only Edmund and me behind.

“Olivia.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“No—you must.”

Edmund opened the safe and drew out the documents we had gathered through all our investigations, thrusting them into my hands.

“Take these. You know the back road by the rear garden, the one we used when we traveled in disguise? That path leads out of the citadel. There’s a carriage waiting.”

“…….”

“I’ve heard they haven’t touched the temple yet. So take this, and go to the temple.”

“No!”

What if the foreigners broke through? What if they killed Edmund?

“I want to stay by your side.”

“I told you before—you’re not bound by duty to protect me.”

Edmund gave a faint laugh and gripped my arm tightly.

“It isn’t because I’m your aide! I—I…”

Could I say it? If Edmund were to die here, this would be my only chance. My last chance to lay bare what I felt.

“I love you, Edmund—I love you, Ed!”

It hadn’t come out the way I’d intended. The words escaped as tears spilled over.

I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell him when I had realised how I felt. I wanted to confess that I had been cold for a reason and that everything I had said before had been a lie. I even wanted to offer some pitiful excuse.

Instead, however, all of it — all of me — poured out as tears, streaming unchecked.

“Ed.”

Edmund stepped closer and gently caressed my cheek.

“Do you remember? I once told you that one day, I’d make you call me Ed.”

“That’s not what matters right now.”

“You’re right. What matters is that you survive.”

“What…?”

Edmund gave me a light push. Taken off guard, I lost my balance. Just as I thought I was about to fall, warmth pressed against my back.

“Sir Fakel?”

“Please protect her.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Fakel swung me onto his shoulders in one motion.

“No—wait! Wait! Your Highness! Edmund!”

No matter how I struck him, shoved at him, or thrashed to break free—even when I sank my teeth into him—Fakel would not let me go.

Through the back path we entered the forest. At last, I gave up my struggles. My strength was not enough to escape him.

“Sir Fakel, please, put me down.”

“But His Highness commanded—”

“I’ll go to the temple on my own.”

At that, I felt him hesitate.

“So hurry back. Protect Ed—protect His Highness…”

Before I could even finish, Fakel lowered me to the ground.

“There may be foreigners nearby.”

“Don’t worry. Running—I’m good at that.”

Perhaps he knew I was lying. For a moment, he seemed to waver.

“Haa…”

But the hesitation was brief. He had someone else he needed to protect.

Wiping the sweat that drenched his brow, Fakel spoke with a faint smile.

“His Highness will surely scold me for this.”

Then he laughed.

“But that will only be possible if he lives. I’ll go to save him.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself.”

Fakel sprinted off, faster than before.

I clutched the documents in my arms tightly as I watched him go. I could not be caught. I could not die here. I had to protect these papers.

I ran into the dark forest path, never daring to look back. If I turned, I feared I would run straight back to him.

So I kept my eyes fixed forward and ran. Crossing the woods would bring me to the temple quickly—thank the heavens for that.

Only when I reached its gates did I dare glance back at the Imperial Citadel.

It had always seemed vast and majestic to me, but today it looked more like a fortress under siege.

And tonight, with not a single star in the sky, it felt as though God Himself whispered a prophecy: that I must not cling to hope.