“…Since Your Highness will be going, wouldn’t being by your side be the safest place in the world?”

Raylin’s words were half flattery and half sincerity.

At the same time, she wanted to make sure he wouldn’t just send subordinates to search for the Lady Mifaro, which might lower the chances of rescuing her.

“Hah.”

Aiger let out a dry chuckle, somewhere between a scoff and an exasperated laugh.

She was a woman who popped up in the most unexpected places, saying and doing things beyond his predictions.

How had she managed to suppress such bold decisiveness all this time?

Was it because of her weak constitution?

“So, you’re planning to stick to my side?”

“Yes! Like a cicada clinging to an old tree—I’ll stick right to you.”

Her pale green eyes gleamed like fresh spring leaves, and Aiger swallowed a light sigh.

He had to refuse.

That was a rational and reasonable decision.

But she wasn’t wrong.

If he decided to protect Raylin, no place in the world would be safer than by his side.

But even so, he couldn’t allow it.

The world was whole of “what ifs,” and if, by some misfortune, she found herself in one of those situations…

“And besides, I have a means to protect myself.”

She confidently placed something she had prepared in advance on the table.

Raylin ran her fingertips over the ivory-colored body, where straight and curved lines blended perfectly, achieving a balanced design. Lifting her chin slightly and straightening her shoulders, she exuded confidence.

To Aiger, however, she looked small and fragile—like a tiny fledgling puffing out its fluffy white chest, brimming with self-importance.

The thought cute briefly crossed his mind, but Raylin, too engrossed in caressing the treasured weapon in front of her, didn’t notice.

“What do you think?”

Raylin chirped the question like a sparrow, and Aiger pushed aside all the words that had crowded his mind, leaving just one.

“A gun?”

The expression on his face conveyed the words he didn’t say: With just that?

But Raylin nodded nonchalantly.

“That’s right. And I know—it’s not much use against knights. But against anyone else, it’s a pretty powerful weapon. And…”

She paused momentarily, then looked at Aiger with a slightly sheepish smile.

“For the ones my gun can’t handle, Your Highness will take care of them anyway.”

Aiger narrowed his eyes slightly, a faint crease forming between his brows as he stared at her intently.

She was an audacious and impudent woman who intended to use the crown prince for her convenience—yet, strangely, he didn’t feel the least bit angry.

On the contrary, he was rather pleased with how she subtly observed his mood and sidled closer to him.

‘As expected, she’s too soft.’

‘Well, I suppose I can let this slide for now.’

“My daughter has a hobby of collecting guns. As long as she likes them, I have no complaints.”

That was what the Duke had said to him one day when Aiger discovered that the Greuga Ducal House had been pouring vast amounts of funding into the now nearly defunct Mage Tower.

It was, frankly, a waste of money. But to a family as powerful as the Greuga Dukes, it was no different from scooping a cup of water from the sea—so Aiger had dismissed it from his mind.

Now, watching the delicate white fingers play with the gun like a cherished toy, tracing its surface with a rhythmic motion, he found his gaze drawn to her flushed cheeks and the corners of her lips that lifted slightly in excitement.

She looked as if she might start humming a cheerful tune at any moment.

“Indeed, it seems worth the investment.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He shook his head lightly.

Seeing this, Raylin beamed like a flower bud about to burst into full bloom.

“I’m going with you!”

Aiger extended his hand, and she eagerly placed hers in his.

***

A man and woman could hardly be better suited to the old saying: Strike while the iron is hot.

When Raylin and Aiger reached an agreement, they wasted no time leaving the mansion.

“Wait, Your Highness, knows where Lady Mifaro is suspected to be?”

“Yes.”

Per Aiger’s instructions, their destination was an alleyway in the backstreets.

They had expected as much—but for it to be here…

Both donned full-length robes with deep hoods pulled low over their faces as they ventured inside.

Of course, they had used a carriage when leaving the estate. However, they couldn’t afford to bring the entire entourage through the back streets, so they left the coachman and maid waiting at a suitable location and gave their guards the slip.

“We have some private matters to attend to. Could you give us some space?”

Strictly speaking, they had simply left the guards frozen in place.

They hadn’t lied at all.

After all, rescuing a kidnapped person and extracting members of the alleyway community afflicted with disease was, in a sense, a private matter.

Of course, the guards—whose faces turned crimson as they clamped their mouths shut—seemed to have imagined something else entirely.

Feigning shyness to avoid unnecessary questions had worked like a charm.

Aiger had briefly looked at her in disbelief, but he willingly played along for some reason.

“Yes, we must be very discreet, so stay out of my sight.”

The guards stiffened in shock as he pulled Raylin into his arms and spoke.

Wasn’t he one of the empire’s top three strongest fighters—the infamous crown prince rumored to kill with a smile and bathe in fountains of blood?

It was impossible to guard him from a distance.

“Your Highness, that would be difficul—”

The loyal and upright guard began to protest.

Then—

Smooch.

Raylin, standing on tiptoe, left a fleeting kiss on Aiger’s cheek and spoke with a hint of embarrassment.

“With Your Highness by my side, what is there to worry about?”

The guards were aghast, scattering instantly like cockroaches exposed to light.

Aiger, gauging their retreating presence, looked down at Raylin, who was lightly shifting on her toes with a carefree expression.

Her golden eyelashes, the same shade as her hair, fluttered like butterfly wings.

Beneath them, her green eyes were unreadable—what exactly was she thinking?

Whenever she sat across from him, she was always difficult to grasp.

It felt like she was laying everything bare, yet the most crucial parts remained concealed.

Not long ago, he wouldn’t have cared what Raylin was hiding, but now…

Indeed, she would stop at nothing to achieve her goals.

Unconsciously, he raised a hand to the cheek she had kissed, only to catch himself and lower it.

“Well, I… um.”

Raylin hesitated, unsure how to address him, and Aiger answered simply.

“Just speak.”

“You mentioned earlier—the mi… no, the victim’s whereabouts. How did you find out?”

Aiger recounted the clumsy knight he had seen while confirming the location of Kertan’s younger sister in the back alleys.

“Your Highness believes that knight is the guard who kidnapped the young lady?”

“Yes. But I’ll need another method to be sure.”

“Another method?”

“I had someone look into it. I’ll be receiving the information soon.”

He didn’t elaborate, but Raylin vaguely guessed that by ‘method,’ he meant an informant.

In the original story, the back-alley informant was one of Catherine’s most convenient tools.

If Raylin Greuga had been Catherine’s willing pawn, fetching money and honor for her, then the informant had been her go-to for intelligence and handling loose ends.

One of the men forming Catherine’s dazzling reverse harem and one whose title—‘magician’—was now too ambiguous to use.

Raylin knew only his name, occupation, and one distinctive trait.

Arian.

She had long forgotten the minor details of the original story, and even before her regression, she had never spoken to him, let alone met him in person.

She needed to keep him in check before he became Catherine’s devoted servant.

This was a good chance to see his face at least…

“Stay close.”

“…Yes.”

Raylin swiftly gathered her straying thoughts.

Yes. She needed to focus on the task at hand.

Rescuing Lady Mifaro and Kertan’s younger sister safely.

There was still some time, but the sense of urgency had pushed her to stir up various events—now was the time to see them through correctly.

With her resolve set, Raylin glanced up slightly, intending to scan their surroundings, but quickly fixed her gaze on the ground.

“Don’t make eye contact with anyone. If you can’t help it, just stare at the ground while walking. I’m right beside you so that you won’t get hurt.”

Just before entering the back alleys, Aiger issued a firm warning, almost like a command.

The back alleys were an entirely different world to her.

Everything she saw was new, and the words she heard felt like a foreign language. Even though she had pulled her hood low and raised a mask to cover her face, the stench still seeped through.

But Raylin followed his instructions as if they were carved into her bones, not sparing a single glance at anything else.

Fixing her gaze solely on the filth-covered ground, marred with stains darker than dirt, she walked, relying entirely on Aiger’s arm.

She did not intend to invite danger with her curiosity or get swept up in a thrilling incident.

Honestly, this unfamiliar world had thrown her off so much that she didn’t even have the chance to get into trouble.

Aiger would immediately pull her back onto the right path when she stepped in the wrong direction.

Before lowering her gaze to the ground, she recalled the ‘tension’ she had glimpsed in him earlier.

A small, amused smile lingered on her lips, though even she wasn’t aware of it.

Squelch, squish.

Her shoes stepping on something unpleasant echoed like an unwanted orchestra performance.

She had endured the noise for quite a while when breathing heavily through the mask covering her nose; she furrowed her brows in frustration—it was more exhausting than she had expected.

“How fast can you walk?”

“Huh?”