“What if Mixel Luke knew? Even if he didn’t realize how far things would go, he might have known you wouldn’t let go so easily.”

Selene Pincher struggled to meet his gaze. Her eyes were unsteady, but her voice had grown considerably calmer.

“If he took her as a hostage, would that make sense?”

***

Courtney ran the largest bakery in Conercio.

Initially, it had been her sister’s shop, but she took it over when her family moved to the countryside. She always felt grateful to her sister. She would’ve been doubly thankful if they had also taken her troublesome nephew.

“I’m telling you, I’m too good-looking to waste away here. Once I reach the capital, I’ll be the best opera singer there. So please, Auntie, convince Mom for me.”

He was ridiculously full of himself for someone with a bit of local fame. Just as she was about to retort to the overplayed plea she had heard countless times, the bell at the door jingled. Courtney immediately stood up.

“Or maybe you could invest in—”

“Welcome, customer!”

Everyone in the bakery instinctively looked toward the door, and as if on cue, their gazes froze. A woman wearing a large hat had entered.

Her light green dress, made of slightly stiff fabric, was adorned with an oversized collar and intricate lace, hinting at its expensive price.

Her hair glistened like honey in the sunlight, and the glimpse of her face beneath the hat revealed strikingly delicate features.

Opera singers are people like that.

Unbothered by the attention, she selected a baguette and approached the counter.

“Wow…”

Courtney’s nephew gaped, starting to rise, but she tripped him before he could cause trouble for a regular customer.

Ignoring his groan of protest, Courtney warmly rang up the customer’s bread. As the woman turned to leave, Courtney held out a small bag of cookies.

“We’re preparing a new product—please try it and let us know what you think.”

The customer tilted her head slightly. It was the first time Courtney got a proper look at her face, and she nearly let out an unrefined exclamation.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy them.”

Her eyes curved gently, soft skin lifting beneath them. Dense eyelashes partially veiled her clear gaze, and her well-shaped lips formed a slightly awkward smile. That hesitant grin was so endearing that Courtney’s heart skipped a beat.

How can someone smile like that?

The woman left everyone spellbound and exited the shop. The bell jingled again, and only then did Courtney regain her composure.

Immediately after, there was a clatter as her nephew toppled his chair.

“Wh-who was that?”

“An opera star.”

“Don’t joke with me!”

“A customer who comes to a bakery buys bread. Stop spouting nonsense and pick yourself up.”

Her nephew awkwardly stood but kept staring at the door as if entranced.

“Is she a noble?”

“I don’t know. I heard she might be the youngest daughter of some big merchant family, but I’m not sure.”

“I’ve never seen anyone that beautiful before…”

“Enough of that, boy. She came here with her lover last time. Tall, handsome, and… hmm, you can’t compare.”

As she spoke, Courtney searched her memory. The man had left quite the impression—not just attractive but exuding a dangerous aura. His appearance gave the feeling of someone living recklessly, and his piercing gaze had been almost chilling.

The last time she’d felt that way was seeing a condemned prisoner in her hometown. Was that rude to think about a customer?

“Her lover…?”

Her nephew’s enthusiasm deflated, and Courtney forgot her musings, bursting into laughter.

***

As the door closed, the bell rang cheerfully. The warm scent of bread filled the bag in her arms, and the sky above was vividly blue.

A tepid breeze rustled her hair as Mel paused briefly, basking in the pleasant moment. Suddenly, a parasol interrupted her view.

Didn’t this happen before?

Just as she searched her memory for déjà vu, a familiar voice rang out.

“I told you not to wander alone, but you never listen.”

The man with the black wig, concealing his striking hair color, was Mixel Luke Dice.

“It’s just a bakery.”

“Accidents happen when you let your guard down.”

Here came the nagging again. Mel frowned slightly and opened the bag of complimentary cookies.

“Want one?”

“Mm.”

With a reluctant expression, Mixel kept his mouth shut. He didn’t look the type but was notoriously picky about food. At least his scolding had stopped, which was good enough. Mel closed the bag again.

“Fine, suit yourself.”

“I’d eat as many as you like—if you fed me.”

Mel ignored his familiar line with practiced ease.

“You’re back quickly this time.”

“I’ve got news. One good piece and one even better piece. Which do you want first?”

“The bad news.”

“Both are good news, honestly.”

He clicked his tongue and let out a breezy laugh.

“The ship to Whaley is ready. It’ll set sail within a month.”

“Then, what’s the even better news?”

“I’m ready to leave this country as well. I’ve tied up all loose ends, so I can go with you.”

Hadn’t he already mentioned this when he first offered to help her escape? How he presented it as new left Mel blinking in surprise. Mixel rubbed the back of his neck and asked,

“Do you not want me to accompany you?”

“You said so before, didn’t you? Did you change your mind somewhere along the way?”

“Ah… no.”

He let out an awkward smile as if he had just remembered.

“If you’re coming with me, I’d feel reassured. It’s scary to go to a place I’ve never been to alone.”

“Mm.”

The hand Mixel used to rub the back of his neck pressed harder. His reddening cheeks made him look like an immature boy.

Mel laughed out loud, but her smile gradually faded as they walked.

It had been nearly half a year since she arrived in Conercio. Soon, she would leave the empire.

Though she had thought about it for a long time, the nearing departure date stirred strange feelings in her heart. This country, where she had lived her entire life, held all her experiences.

Her sins, her sorrows, her wounds, and her people.

Yet, there was nothing left she regretted. All that remained in this land had done nothing but harm her. Only by leaving everything behind could she finally hope to be happy.

“Mixel, can I ask you for a favor?”

Mel steadied her thoughts one last time.

“Could you sell the pouch of jewels I brought with me? Unless it’s likely to draw attention back to us, of course.”

“They’re rather plain stones. If I sell them discreetly, there shouldn’t be any issues. But… will you sell the pendant as well?”

Mixel’s gaze briefly dropped to Mel’s neck. The pendant given to her by Duke Heaven still hung there.

With her hands full, holding the bread bag, she couldn’t touch it. Instead, she lowered her head. She had decided long ago how to deal with it.

“I’m going to throw it into the sea.”

So that it would belong to no one else. It would remain hers alone until it disappeared as her possession. That was the last desire Mel allowed herself.

Mixel nodded slowly.

***

“You should come outside, Your Holiness.”

The High Priest appeared before the Prophet, who had just finished his morning prayers, wearing a troubled expression.

“Lord Gopher Allnight has offered to donate his entire fortune if he could meet Your Holiness just once.”

“Did you accept the money?”

“It’s clearly money that will cause problems, so I’ve refrained. But he refuses to leave until he meets you…”

The Allnight family was known for their vast wealth, and their donations were as grand as their influence. Regardless of any political motives behind them, the funds could still save countless lives. With the family heir now stubbornly digging in his heels, it was no wonder the High Priest was at a loss.

The Prophet frowned and asked where Gopher Allnight was.

He was in the prayer room. Kneeling in a composed posture with his eyes closed, he appeared to seek the divine, though no one could truthfully call him pious.

He looks more like the dead.

The Prophet intended to knock down his arrogant attitude, but his anger melted away upon seeing him in person. Perhaps the capital’s newspapers hadn’t exaggerated this time.

Though his appearance still drew attention, his demeanor had entirely shifted. Summer had come, yet winter clung stubbornly to him alone.

What can a man on the verge of death not do? As he spoke, the Prophet felt a twinge of pity but allowed no trace of it in his voice.

“I told you not to seek me again, no matter what went wrong.”

Gopher Allnight opened his eyes and rose to his feet.

“Was the offer insufficient?”

“Our principle is to refuse donations made with ulterior motives. Do not attempt to bend a servant of God to the will of man.”

The Prophet took the papers handed to him by the High Priest and tore them into shreds. Gopher Allnight’s declaration to donate his entire fortune to the temple was null and void.

Yet Gopher acted as though he cared nothing for such things. And likely, he indeed didn’t.

“Please forgive my insolence. My desire to meet Your Holiness led me to overstep.”

“Regardless of your words, I will not look into your future again.”