Why does the memory of that wedding day—without a single guest or officiant—suddenly come back to me?

The piercing look in his eyes felt like a desperate plea not to forget, and so I nodded.

Thump, thump—Kailhart’s heartbeat reverberated through her body, as if branding her once again. It burned, and every time she drew close to him, the sensation was never easy to endure, yet here they were, right in the middle of a promise to lay bare their weaknesses to each other.

That’s why, almost unconsciously, Isabel’s fingers pressed harder as she brought her hand near his heart, curling tightly. Even so, she closed her eyes and endured. She accepted the flames in him, as if he meant to burn her down to the very ground.

His hot breath crashed into her mouth, making her whole body sway. Supported by his hands, their kisses continued, and even as rough grains of sand scraped across her cheeks, eyelids, and lips, Kailhart didn’t slow his pace in exploring her.

The one-sided heat soared higher and higher in an instant.

Kailhart, you…

In the end, even her mind was captured. As she was overwhelmed by the sensations he stirred in her, Isabel realized—when even the way he murmured her name felt so desperate and tender—that she had truly been seized.

It wasn’t like any other night; the sun was briefly hidden in the day. Hh, ugh—Isabel gasped for breath, shaken by the tangled heat. Even as her mind seemed to drift away in the haze, one thing remained perfectly clear.

A transaction.

Just as he’d repeated moments before, this was a transaction—so she could face it head-on.

Right now, we both want something very real from each other. Even as a married couple, we were prepared to bare ourselves completely again.

Yes, Isabel.

In the moment she was pierced and pinned by her time with Kailhart, something deep inside her whispered like a hairline crack.

You have to pay the proper price.

After all, isn’t this an act that dares to touch the reverse scale?

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Tatadak—bullets rained down, tearing into the dark, crimson soil of the old homestead.

A place already reduced to ruins was instantly turned into a beehive.

Isabel’s eyes darted wildly as she took in the devastated surroundings. The men, using the bare-boned walls of the abandoned warehouse for cover, had aimed their weap＊ns at them.

“Hand over the princess!”

Her tangled hair buzzed in her ears. Her mind was sluggish, unable to process the sudden chaos. A flash grenade had exploded right in front of her moments ago, leaving her half-deaf.

Not just her ears—her senses felt completely shot. Everything seemed like a hallucination.

“Secure the princess, now!”

“Hey, this way! Support here first, not there—agh!”

“D＊mn it, all of this… it’s for Father…!”

She could barely make out the shouts of men in unfamiliar uniforms. Even when Kailhart, turning toward her amid the silent uproar, moved his lips—she couldn’t hear a thing.

Kail, Kailhart.

She saw him through her blurry vision.

Between the backs and bodies of the dark-clad men, she glimpsed him fighting desperately.

He cut down two, three at a time, as if swatting away a swarm of hornets. The rapid movements left only afterimages, like shadows.

The rebels trying to surround him and block his escape were swiftly taken down, one by one, crumpling to the ground—it didn’t feel real at all.

She watched as the hem of Kailhart’s heavy coat drew a wide arc, his face set in cold determination, but suddenly her field of vision was wrenched to the side.

It was because men had grabbed both her arms from behind, twisting them painfully.

“Ugh.”

The ache in her arms felt like her bones might pop out.

There were dozens of them, some heading for Kailhart, the rest for Isabel. Their intentions were obvious.

“Got her!”

“We’ve secured the princess—!”

With their triumphant shouts and the gunshot that rang out right beside her ear, her dazed mind snapped back a little.

Her blurred sight and hearing cleared, just enough to catch the harsh clang of blades clashing somewhere nearby.
It sounded as if someone was screaming desperately—let Isabel go—rasping the words out through a raw, aching throat.

Even as Isabel struggled with all her might against the rough hands restraining her, her resistance was no match for their brute strength. She was quickly subdued, caught with no way to escape. Dragged away like an animal, she squinted through her hazy vision.

Where had all these people been hiding, waiting for this moment?

Looking back, it was clear that sending her attendants so far away had been a mistake. There simply weren’t enough people left close by to respond properly when everything exploded so suddenly.

Her attendants, only now realizing what was happening, were hurrying to join her, but it was all too fast.

As soon as the sandstorm had cleared, Kailhart suggested she visit the house where she had lived as a child, before they headed back. It was a last-minute decision. They had barely reached the old homestead when the attack came, seizing that brief opportunity.

Even Isabel herself had only heard about coming here less than half an hour ago. No matter how much help the attackers had from someone inside the palace, it still didn’t make sense.

The only possibility was if someone knew exactly where they were headed — most likely the same person who had hijacked the train.

Gunshots continued to ring out, but luckily, every shot missed. In between, she saw Kailhart take down some of the men as they paused to reload — it seemed that the need to reload made guns less effective than blades in close combat.

Even as her body instinctively recoiled, she tried to catch a glimpse of Kailhart to see if he was safe.

Kailhart?

You’re safe, right? You have to be, don’t you?

This was the first time Isabel had ever seen Kailhart in battle.

She wasn’t exactly sure just how powerful he was on his own, but he’d survived so many times by leading the charge, breaking through enemy lines, and returning alive—even when cut off from reinforcements. She doubted he would fall easily.

Still, when faced with dozens attacking at once, even he would need time to handle them all, regardless of the outcome.

That must have been why they’d used this ambush and diversion to tie him down first. She tried to think further, but at that moment—a sharp crack—her head snapped to the side.

“Hey! I told you not to struggle!”

A shrill ringing filled her ear, and heat flared along the rim. Her ear and cheek throbbed from the blow, but Isabel squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to refocus, blinking away the white-hot blur.

“Really, do you think you can get away just because you have a pretty face? You should just behave and save yourself the trouble.”

“Hmph, she never had a clue about the real world.”

“Yeah, that’s why she was so happy to cling to the emperor’s side all this time.”

Even though Isabel was their target, it was clear none of these rebels held any fondness for her. Several of them, after confirming she was secured, reached into their jackets for flash grenades.

The high-pitched beep kept ringing in her ears, each wave of sound layering over the headache blooming inside her skull.

The world looked doubled, as if she were hallucinating—hazy afterimages rising up from her subconscious.

“Get up. You can’t just stay like this.”

It happened right here, in this very place.

Was it when she was a child? After seeing the trees in front of her house and the vegetable garden reduced to a charred wasteland—barely recognizable—she’d collapsed in shock.

Struggling to support herself on the ground with both hands, someone’s voice had reached her.

“Hurry, move quickly!”

“Ugh…”

Isabel grimaced. The man’s grip on her shoulder was so forceful it made her brow furrow, but the pain somehow made the memories even clearer.

Yes, that wasn’t all.

She suddenly remembered the steady hand that had supported her as she staggered, the sharp gaze that had scanned the smouldering ruins and the profile of someone narrowing his eyes in concentration.

He examined the remaining traces at the scene with great precision. He’d even spotted the barely visible boot prints that she hadn’t noticed, quickly deducing that, given that this continent had several monarchies, each with different uniforms and boots, it was possible to guess their origin. However, he broke off mid-sentence.

“Isabel, over there—”

He pointed somewhere.

Oh, right. That’s why she’d suddenly lurched forward—because the man helping her as she stumbled was guiding her straight to Uncle Russ.

That was it. Uncle was leaning against the wall right over there.

The warehouse wall among the ruins looked different now. Isabel’s brow creased tightly. Her uncle’s body had been riddled with gunshot and stab wounds, each one deep and bleeding heavily.

“I-Isaya… my little one…”

She could remember her uncle, on the verge of death, looking up at her faintly and the twisted expression on the man’s face as he examined his condition beside her. Uncle Russ, what…

The image of her younger self letting out a long, shaky breath…

“Remember this well, Isaya.”
“U-uncle…?”
“Water is a medium that transcends time and space.”

She even remembered that being Uncle Russ’s dying message. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks that day, as she watched him take his last breath.