Layla’s expression only relaxed when Malyn pinched her shoulder. She let go and fell back onto the bed with a thud, her hair dishevelled. A month ago she would have been preoccupied with maintaining her composure in the presence of the king. But now she could do as she pleased on the bed. The King was dead, and Layla was the one wearing his mask.

Although she had to live as a “madwoman” out of necessity, Malyn found that she liked the current situation quite well. Whether she walked around the castle barefoot or read in the library all day, no one stopped her. Even the new steward in charge of the library didn’t care, too busy to notice her licking her fingers as she turned the pages – especially since the previous steward had been dismissed.

“The Knight Commander has returned.”

“Oh, has he?”

Malyn blinked. The King had originally ordered the Knight Commander to find the knight who had humiliated him in the tournament, with the threat of death if he failed. But when the Commander returned three days later, the real King was dead. Layla, wearing the king’s mask, had sat on the throne, and the Knight Commander had stared at him for a long time before retreating. Since then, both Malyn and Layla had lived in constant fear, afraid that the man who had once served closest to the King might suspect something. The Knight Commander had since volunteered to patrol Veldam’s territories, but today he had finally returned.

“What do you think? Do you think he’s figured it out by now? Or does he still seem to be unaware?”

Layla remained silent at Malyn’s question before finally answering.

“No… honestly, I’m not sure.”

He remembered the events of a month ago. The king’s hand had always been ruthless, and the knights who had failed to find Layla had expected to face death. When dozens of knights had knelt and begged to be killed, Layla, disguised as the king, had waited a long time before responding, telling them to return and rest.

It was only natural that the knight commander had looked up at him in shock. Later, Malyn had scolded him, saying, “What were you going to do when he found out?” But Layla had only shaken her head.

“It would have been better for me to die alone than to kill all twenty of them.”

Of course, Malyn had narrowed her eyes and retorted, “I would have died too!” But that was a conversation for another day. At the time, the Knight Commander had stared at Layla in disbelief. The moment their eyes met had lasted longer than expected, but then the Commander had lowered his eyes and retreated.

Then the Knight Commander suddenly left the castle over a week ago, claiming that he had neglected the King’s protection and needed to patrol Veldam to eliminate any threats. Malyn had worried, saying, “What if he finds out about the two of us?”

But Layla had only smiled and shook her head.

Even with his reassurance, Malyn spent sleepless nights worrying, asking, “What if he went to gather other lords?”

But what she feared had never happened.

And Layla believed it never would.

The moment he met the Knight Commander’s gaze when he returned from his search had been brief, but to Layla it had seemed endless. The freshly shaved beard, the change in voice explained away as the result of a cold – the Knight Commander would have known. At the very least, someone who had served the King so closely would have sensed immediately that the person before him was not the true King. Layla was well aware of the doubt that flickered in the Commander’s eyes that day.

It was a look that seemed to ask, ‘Who are you?’

There was no doubt. The Knight Commander had been on the verge of standing up and pointing his sword at Layla’s throat. But what filled the Commander’s eyes at that moment was not resolution, but conflict.

The merciless king had always treated knights over thirty with utter contempt. The Knight Commander, despite his pride in having fiercely protected Veldam’s territories, saw that pride shattered under the rule of the king behind the golden mask. Knights were beheaded or mutilated at the king’s whim. The commander had just returned from leading the remaining twenty or so knights on an exhaustive three-day search, combing Veldam without sleep to find the man who had insulted the king. Not a single knight had remained in the castle, an absurd request, but none of them questioned it – such absurdities were commonplace beside this king.

But when they returned, it was not the real king who stood before them, but another person wearing the king’s mask.

The Knight Commander’s eyes flickered, and Layla responded with the faintest hint of a smile. The Commander could not have missed the subtle expression. The others could feel the tension between them, but Layla didn’t break eye contact.

The Commander must have doubted himself. Is this really the king?” He had heard rumours from the servants when he entered the castle. They spoke of the king’s violent seizure and the brutal death of the princess’s maid, so gruesome that even experienced servants had choked at the sight.

But no one mentioned that the king had been replaced. The king still sat on his throne, masked in gold, looking down on them as before.

Is this really the king?

The Knight Commander must have prayed countless times as he made his way back to the castle. Perhaps he wished that the King’s volatile nature had changed, or at least that his temper had softened, thinking of his own men who would soon face the King’s wrath again. He must have wondered if he was simply fooling himself, hoping that the king had somehow changed – wishing it so much that he could see what he wanted to see.

Or perhaps he wondered if it was a temporary grace, granted by some divine intervention, that the king was behaving, even briefly, like a human being.

He could not be sure.

Finally, the knight-commander lowered his head, and only then could Layla release the breath she had been holding. As the commander retreated, Layla closed her eyes and gave an order to a nearby servant – to give the knights three days’ leave with ample rewards. Stunned, the servant hesitated, but Layla’s silent urging made him hurry to carry out the order.

From then on, when the Knight Commander volunteered to patrol Veldam, he avoided looking up at Layla. He never again met the King’s gaze from behind the golden mask, nor did he even glance at the throne. This could only mean that the Knight Commander had also made a decision. But since Layla could not be sure, he refrained from burdening Malyn with his suspicions.

‘After all… these are things I must consider for myself, and things I cannot yet fully understand.’

Layla ran an awkward hand through his newly shortened hair. Having kept it long all his life, the sudden lightness of his head often surprised him. Malyn had laughed, saying it suited him much better, but every time Layla looked in the mirror he felt like he was staring at someone else.