In truth, she had recognised the knight who had entered the arena that day as Layla. The strands of hair peeking out from under the helmet, the fleeting glances he gave her as he moved, and the reckless way he wielded his weapon as if he didn’t care if he got hurt – anyone could see it was Layla. In the midst of the chaos, Malyn remembered that the calluses on his palms, which had softened with time, were the hands of someone who had once held a spear.

But instead of saying all those things, Malyn chose to be playful.

“How could I not recognise a horse charging around as if it wanted to vent its anger?”

“…”

“What kind of horse moves like a man?”

Man or beast, no amount of armour could disguise them. Both horse and rider could be so foolish at such moments, even if they were otherwise so clever.

Then Malyn asked,

“What wish did you make…?”

“Did Paradi tell you that too?”

“That talkative horse followed me all the way and kept teasing me.”

Layla finally laughed. It was a weak smile, but it was enough to make Malyn smile as well. Yes, that’s Paradi for you. Exactly. Even though I begged her to keep quiet, I hadn’t considered that the more I insisted, the more she would want to tell you everything… He muttered to himself until Malyn interrupted him with the same question.

“What wish did you make?”

His blue eyes looked at her, then blinked in embarrassment. Lowering his gaze, he confessed in a very low voice.

“For courage.”

“…”

“I needed courage, I…”

Only then did Malyn realise what Paradi had meant by “such a wish”. He had wished for something he could neither hold nor feel. And yet it was the kind of wish he would make.

“I’m sorry… for being so pathetic.”

Layla covered his face with her hands and spoke again, her voice barely restrained.

“Because even for the smallest courage to fight for you, I had to ask someone else to give it to me…”

“…”

“And so I couldn’t even bring myself to say that I love you…”

Malyn almost burst out laughing but bit her lip to stop herself.

‘Love you.’

That romantic phrase, oddly enough, almost made her laugh at the corners of her mouth at such a moment.

Life, she thought, was truly unpredictable. How could it be?

Oddly, her mind became calm. She looked away from the man in front of her and looked around. Hot, sticky blood had completely soaked the hem of her dress. The room was silent. Shivering, Malyn pulled up her skirt, feeling the wet, sticky fabric as it squished in her hands. She tried to wring it out, but only managed to soak her hands. It was difficult to undress alone, and there were no women’s clothes to change into in the King’s bedroom.

Something stuck in the back of her mind. Malyn looked at Layla, then at the king, her gaze sweeping across the room until it landed on a golden mask. Her eyes narrowed before they returned to Layla’s face.

The pale face, the jawline and the neck beneath it. The shoulders draped in robes, the blood-stained long sleeves revealing slender fingers at the ends, a strong wrist…

“Live shamelessly, girl. Please.”

“How can those who barely get what they deserve, even when they act shamelessly, be so foolish?”

Paradi’s words flashed through her mind at that moment. After a moment’s hesitation, Malyn stood up, walked over to the mask and picked it up. The golden mask rested in her hand.

Surely this wasn’t exactly what Paradi had meant by “live shamelessly”. He probably meant something closer to prioritising survival over pride… Still, Malyn glanced over at Layla. He stood up quickly, meeting her gaze as if something had occurred to him. Malyn spoke.

“If we’re going to die anyway, try to do one more thing.”

“I, I can’t do it.”

Layla hesitated, but Malyn stepped forward without hesitation and put the mask on his face. It wasn’t perfect, but that was only from Malyn’s point of view.

They both had the same hair colour.

“No one has ever seen the face of the king directly. There are few in Veldam who even know how many masks the king has.

“Malyn!”

“The jaw… tell them he has shaved his beard. Even if there are differences, they’ll accept it.”

“I… I can’t do it.”

Layla tried to gently push the masked hand away, but Malyn didn’t move. She stared at him, her voice firm.

“You were born a man and even pretended to be a princess. Are you really telling me you can’t pretend to be a king?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Malyn didn’t wait for an answer.

“Even a girl who grew up on the streets can play the role of a princess.”

Hearing that, Layla couldn’t refuse any longer. He closed his mouth, bit his lip a few times and finally sighed, accepting the mask from her hand. Malyn watched him fiddle with the mask and whispered impulsively,

“I looked at the king’s face once, and now I’m looking at yours again.”

Layla stared at her as if at a loss for words. Malyn smiled brightly and continued.

“You look far more regal than that corpse over there ever did.”

“Oh, Malyn.”

Layla finally let out a small laugh. It was something Malyn had heard him say once, and something he had said to her once.

Malyn narrowed his eyes and smiled.

“The king of Veldam wouldn’t even blink if he spent three gold coins on his queen, would he?”

“Only three gold coins?”

The man’s voice trembled. Soon he wrapped his free hand around her waist, pulling their faces close together. His deep, soft voice lingered in her ear.

“I would have you spend my life as well, without hesitation.”

Malyn felt the blood-soaked cloth at her feet, thick and sticky. She realised it was something old and worn, yet precious to her – but she didn’t pick it up. Instead, she stepped on it firmly, pressing it down.

In the end, it was none other than Layla who saved her.

To think that a few sips of blood would save her life. Her mother hadn’t even managed to become a real witch.

‘Oh, my poor, pitiful mother.’

Malyn thought with pleasure at what she was about to do.

‘But your proud daughter will become the witch who burned a king.’

Layla’s lips met hers. The kiss, given over a corpse, tasted of blood. And it tasted very, very good.