In the early afternoon, a carriage arrived at the duke’s residence. Painted entirely in white, it shimmered in the sunlight, with the royal crest emblazoned in gold at its center.

As the door opened, a lady in a white dress carefully took the coachman’s hand and stepped down. With long, shining silver hair and eyes as clear as the sky, she appeared frail at first glance.

As she descended, the butler, waiting at the entrance, bowed respectfully in greeting.

“Welcome, Lady Lette.”

“Hello, Will. How have you been?”

“The saintess’s presence brings us good fortune.”

Lette smiled, her radiant smile as beautiful as if she were bestowing a blessing, prompting Will to bow his head once more and move.

“His Grace is waiting inside.”

“Thank you.”

Lette followed Will, passing through familiar corridors until they reached the equally familiar study of the duke. Will knocked gently but firmly on the door.

“Your Grace, Lady Lette is here.”

“Enter.”

The response was brief. Will opened the door smoothly, maintaining a composed demeanor. The tall duke stood by his desk, holding a document as he looked toward the entrance.

“Welcome.”

Ruben’s voice was warmly welcoming as he greeted Lette. Smiling, she walked over to the familiar sofa in the study.

Once the servants had finished serving tea and refreshments and left, the room was empty save for the two of them. Ruben finally approached and sat across from her.

“It’s been a while.”

“Only because you’ve been busy, brother.”

“And you’ve been busy yourself. I heard you’re still involved in relief efforts every day.”

Lette lifted her teacup of red tea and answered calmly.

“It’s my duty.”

“Take care of your health while you do. If you fall ill, the whole country will be worried.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lette smiled softly. Though Ruben’s expression remained stern, his eyes were warm as he looked at her. It was a peaceful afternoon scene.

“I heard you called for me urgently.”

As soon as Lette mentioned business, Ruben’s face darkened. He looked almost defeated, like a soldier lost after a battle. Lette watched him with concern.

“Brother?”

“You must have heard the latest news about me.”

Lette wore an innocent smile as though unaware of anything.

“I heard you’re getting engaged. Congratulations.”

“Do you know who it’s to?”

Ruben’s tone was serious. Growing solemn, Lette put away her smile and answered quietly.

“I heard it’s Princess Helia.”

“Yes. That’s right.”

Ruben offered no further response. Lette, too, fell silent. The room, filled with the drowsy air of a lazy afternoon, suddenly grew heavy with silence.

“Is there a problem?”

Lette asked cautiously. Ruben let out a sigh, almost a scoff.

“Problems? Plenty, as you know.”

“……”

“But the biggest problem is that the princess will be moving into the Duke’s estate right after the engagement.”

This time, Lette’s calm composure gave way to surprise. She asked again, taken aback by the unexpected news.

“The princess is moving into the Duke’s estate?”

“Yes.”

His voice sounded as solemn as a soldier delivering news of a breach at the front.

“So, I suggested it might be best for us not to meet for a while.”

Ruben mocked himself as he said that. For a while? For how long exactly?

Hadn’t Helia’s reaction shown him enough recently? She would never accept Lette’s presence. Nothing had changed from ten years ago—not a single thing.

It was an autumn day when the young girl, who had a reputation for cruelty, told the boy she wanted to meet Lette.

The boy hesitated. Two years prior, because of the girl’s lies, Lette’s father and his mentor, Marquis Dekar Klein, had met a dishonorable end. Could he really introduce Lette to someone like her? The boy wasn’t sure.

“What’s wrong? Worried I’ll do something bad?”

The girl’s voice was sharp yet weary as she watched him struggle to answer. Her thin, frail wrist caught his eye painfully.

The girl had been like that for some time now—always on edge as if constantly thinking about how to hurt others. She spoke harshly, lashing out even at the boy closest to her. Yet, one thing was different: despite her harshness, she showed an unusual attachment to him. Even in her cruelty, she clung to him—a strange contradiction that the boy could only recognize in hindsight. And so, in a frail voice, she gave him a command.

“I won’t do anything. Just bring her.”

Though his trust in the girl had already faded, he felt pity for her frail, inexplicably fading form. Besides, this was Lette, a saintess recognized even by the Holy Pope. The girl, no matter how spiteful, would be powerless against her. So he decided to trust her, just this once, unaware of the disaster his wavering would cause.

The next day, he brought Lette to the palace. Excited to meet a girl of her age from royalty, Lette wore her cleanest clothes and greeted the boy with rosy cheeks.

They were led to the rose garden. The girl was already seated at a perfectly arranged tea table, waiting for them. When informed of the boy’s arrival, she dismissed everyone and watched as he and Lette approached.

“Your Highness.”

“Ruben.”

“May I introduce you? This is Lette.”

“It is an honor to meet the Rose of Bailey. I am Lette.”

The girl stared at Lette, her gaze curious. Then she suddenly turned to the boy and asked,

“Ruben, where is the saintess?”

The question was absurd, with a faint edge of anger and betrayal, as if she believed she’d been deceived. The boy replied, baffled.

“Your Highness, she’s standing right in front of you.”

“What?”

“This is Lette, the saintess, Your Highness.”

The girl looked at Lette again, her gaze turning severe.

Lette flinched and took a step back. The girl sneered coldly as if she had been waiting for this reaction.

“This girl isn’t a saintess.”

“Pardon?”

“Quite bold of you to deceive others like this.”

The boy didn’t understand what he was hearing.

Lette had been recognized by the Pope of the Holy Land as a guide of God. How could this girl, who wasn’t even a priestess, claim to judge who was or wasn’t a saint? He had witnessed Lette healing people many times with sacred power. Her abilities were indisputably those of a saint. So, what was this?

“I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Good at lying, too.”

The girl’s mocking gaze was icily cold. She turned to the boy.

“Either you tried to fool me with a fake saintess, or this sly girl is lying—one of the two.”

“Your Highness, what are you saying…”

“Should I spell it out for you? This girl is no saintess.”

The boy was at a loss for words, and Lette was already trembling.

The claim was outrageous enough, but it was also dangerous. The only reason Lette had survived the downfall of the Klein family was because she was recognized as a saintess. If she weren’t a saintess, she might have met the same fate as her father.

And now this? The boy felt angry toward the girl, who knew what she was doing.

Clearly, she was determined to find any excuse to discredit Lette, the revered saint. The way she had waited to challenge Lette made her intentions obvious, and the boy was devastated. He couldn’t imagine a worse possibility for this girl, who had become so corrupted.

Finally reaching a decision, the air around him grew cold as he pushed Lette protectively behind him and spoke.

“Please retract your unfounded accusations. I cannot stand by while you insult the saint.”

The girl let out a derisive laugh.

“And if I don’t? What, will you draw your sword against me?”

“Don’t push me to the point where I can no longer endure, Your Highness.”

“I’m the one holding back. Just how much longer are you going to keep shielding that girl?”

“Your Highness.”

The girl turned to look at Lette with a smile on her face. It was a smile devoid of sincerity, a superficial expression that masked any genuine feeling.

“Go on, tell me. Are you truly a saintess?”

“I-I…”

Lette stammered, frightened by the girl pressing her. Then, as if making up her mind, she clenched her fists tightly and shouted.

“I am indeed a saintess.”

At that, the girl’s face twisted in an instant.

“How dare you continue mocking me to the very end?”

Unable to contain her fury, the girl glared, her gaze flickering to the boy’s waist as if struck by a sudden idea.

“Fine, let’s see how long you can keep up this shameless act.”

The girl quickly seized the sword from the scabbard at the boy’s waist, right before her.

Before the boy could stop her, the sharp blade flew toward Lette.

“Lette!”

The sword wobbled weakly in her grip, too slender a wrist to swing it effectively.

The boy instantly pulled Lette into his arms and quickly retreated. The blade, wavering in the air, finally sank into the ground just next to where Lette had stood, cutting through the air with a faint whoosh.

“Ruben, how could you…?”

The girl’s voice trembled with betrayal. Her grip on the sword trembled along with it, and her golden eyes, filled with disbelief, fixated emptily on the boy.

Despite her turmoil, the boy who watched her remained perfectly calm. Now that she had gone so far as to attack Lette, he could no longer tolerate her cruelty.

“Go on ahead.”

Carefully setting Lette down, he whispered softly in her ear. Lette, her eyes brimming with tears, nodded and ran toward the entrance.

“That girl…”

The girl made a move to pursue Lette. But then the boy called her in a low voice, recovering the sword planted in the ground. He had never used his tone with her, utterly devoid of warmth.

“Your Highness.”

The girl stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him.

He knelt before her, setting the sword down. She had seen this scene once before. The moment he had pledged himself as her knight, kneeling before her. At that moment, she had felt as if she owned the world. She thought she needed nothing else. As long as he was by her side, she would be fine.

And here he was, kneeling before her again. But with a face entirely unlike that day’s.

“What…”

“I withdraw the vow I made to you, Princess.”

A knight taking back the vow he once made to his lady—a mark of disgrace that would haunt his life. But he didn’t care. He could no longer endure her.

“What do you mean?”

The girl’s voice quivered slightly as she questioned his intent. But her tremor failed to reach him.

Nothing reached him anymore. It was something that had been happening often of late. She felt as if her voice no longer reached him. But… not like this. It couldn’t be.

‘You’re supposed to be mine. You’re supposed to stay by my side.’

“Exactly what I said.”

“Ruben.”

“I can no longer protect you, Princess.”

That was the end.

The boy turned his back and walked away without a glance. Even he found his own demeanor ruthless. He thought he heard her screams pouring out like a downpour behind him, but he closed his ears. Ignoring her voice had already become second nature to him.

He left the palace without looking back, even though her sharp cries seemed to cling to him, trailing behind. But even after he was entirely outside, he did not turn around.

That’s all he remembers of that day. His final memories are of his tense steps and stiff neck that refused to look back.

The fever that left him bedridden for a week after returning home is just another detail.

That was it. Just a single day.

Ruben shook his head, brushing away the long train of thoughts. Lette was watching him with a peculiar look in her eyes.

“…So if anything happens, send me a letter. Then we can arrange to meet outside.”

But Lette gently shook her head at Ruben’s words.

“Is it right to keep running away forever?”

“Lette.”

His voice was warm with concern. But Lette cut him off firmly.

“Don’t worry about me, Brother. I’m all right. I’m not the same person I was back then.”

Lette’s blue eyes shone with resolve.

Yes. Much has changed and transformed since then. Even if Helia was still exactly as she had been, neither Ruben Effenberg nor Lette remained the same as they once were.

Thinking of the burden he’d placed on Lette, Ruben smiled bitterly. Lette seemed to notice and began to speak as if to comfort him.

“Just as it was your choice, so is this my decision.”

“Yes. I know,” Ruben replied heavily. Observing him closely, Lette tried to lighten the mood with a joke.

“But you must be pleased, Brother, getting engaged to the kingdom’s most admired lady.”

“Nonsense.”

Ruben didn’t smile as much as if he had heard something unpleasant.

“All the men must envy you.”

“If anyone feels envious, I’d gladly let them take my place.”

Ruben meant it. Seeing his discomfort, Lette asked cautiously.

“Is Her Highness doing well?”

Ruben thought of Helia, who had greeted him with a torrent of harsh words when they reunited after ten years, and then he quickly pushed her from his mind. There was no reason to disturb Lette with such unpleasant thoughts.

“She’s doing all too well.”

“While she’s here, take good care of her. For all her show, she’s a sensitive person at heart.”

“You’re spouting nonsense today.”

Lette smiled at Ruben’s rebuke.

“I suppose I’m saying too much because I’m concerned about you. I’d better go before I start saying anything else.”

“All right. Take care.”

“Yes.”

Lette set down her empty teacup, rose from her seat, and walked toward the door. Just as she placed her hand on the doorknob and was about to turn it, a soft but clear voice sounded from behind her.

“I’m sorry.”

Lette paused, hand on the doorknob, and chuckled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And with that, she opened the door and left the office.