“Kareem?”

“He said he was to have an audience with His Majesty today.”

These days, Lisha was playing the role of Kareem Katasara’s lover. While not of high nobility, Katasara was a man of sharp intellect who held a key position at the heart of the Empire’s economy.

Rumor had it that all the drafts of the Empire’s recent economic policies had passed through his hands.

“And?”

“He mentioned currency reform.”

“Currency?”

At Lisha’s words, Hatan’s hand—midway through removing his shirt—froze.

He hadn’t expected her to bring up such high-level information so soon. With a glance, he urged her to continue.

“Not immediately. He said it’s planned for the end of next year.”

Lisha reported what she remembered, though Kareem hadn’t told her any of it directly.

Lately, Kareem had been calling her to his bed often, rarely letting her out of his sight. It was to the point that Hatan had considered pulling her out altogether. Because of that, Kareem would catch up on his work only when Lisha had supposedly fallen asleep.

Of course, she never truly slept.

She listened carefully— to his muttered thoughts, to the words exchanged between him and his attendants.

That was how she gathered her information.

“I see.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Hatan called for Miltan without even thinking to put his shirt back on.

“Miltan. Bring Caro here.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was late at night, but Miltan left without asking a single question. When the door closed, Hatan took a seat at the table and started tapping his fingers on the surface of the table.

He did this whenever he sank deep into thought. Recognizing this, Lisha quietly moved back into the corner.

“Was there any mention of when the current coinage would be withdrawn?”

“They only said it would also be sometime next year.”

Hatan gave a brief nod, tapping the desk again.

Lisha was performing admirably, yet the information she had brought was riddled with gaps. To act, those holes would need to be filled.

“Hatan, you called for me?”

Just then, Caro’s voice came from outside the door.

When he entered the room, he halted for a moment at the sight of Hatan’s bare torso, but quickly composed himself and approached as if nothing were amiss.

“It seems there will be a full-scale currency reform next year.”

“What?”

“I can’t speak to the details, but from what I’ve heard, the reform will go forward one way or another.”

Hatan had already suspected as much.

The Empire’s current currency system was a muddle, born of multiple cultures brought together by force. A few years earlier, during the height of the conquest wars, this temporary disorder had been understandable, with foreign goods and practices pouring in. However, given the Empire’s expanding economy, it was high time to set things in order.

“So, next year is the time.”

Though startled at first, Caro was sharp enough to grasp the picture and nodded in agreement.

“We must move slowly, without drawing attention.”

“How shall we prepare?”

According to Lisha’s report, not all existing coins would retain their full value. While they could speculate on which currencies might hold the greatest worth, it was far safer to acquire physical goods instead. If the reform failed and the value of money collapsed, it would be better to hold real assets.

“I’ll discuss the details with Has tomorrow. For now, just be aware.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you may go.”

Caro left the room wearing a grave expression.

Pressing a tired hand to his brow, Hatan turned to the corner where Lisha was curled up.

“Why are you sitting over there?”

At his words, she rose and came closer.

“I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Hatan caught her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

“Worrying over nothing.”

Some of the tension lifted from her face. Then, catching sight of the papers stacked at his side, she hesitated before asking softly,

“Do you still have work to finish?”

Hatan let out a short laugh, grasped her shoulder and brushed his lips against her pale nape. That was all it took for her to fall into step with him naturally, moving in time to his lead.

It was the first night in a long time that she had spent with him.

“Tomorrow, the physician will come.”

He must have meant the lady physician who had prescribed the Dreamflower before. Lisha slowly blinked her eyes once, then met Hatan’s gaze.

“Then… does that mean I don’t have to return to the capital anymore?”

Her voice carried a faint trace of hope. Hatan looked down at her, nestled against his left arm.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Disappointment clouded her face, and she lowered her head again. Hatan frowned slightly at the reaction.

“Why.”

When no answer came, he lifted her face with his free hand. Lisha, her cheek caught in his grasp, looked up at him obediently. After a long moment, she quietly shook her head.

“Speak.”

As her lips parted hesitantly, Hatan forced down the irritation rising in his chest.

“It’s fine. Just say it.”

“……”

“Lisha.”

Pressed once more, she finally let out her voice in a fragile murmur.

“I want to stay by your side.”

The large hand stroking her skin went still.

“What?”

This time her voice carried a little more certainty.

“I want to stay by your side, Hataan.”

“……”

“This mission takes me too far away… and then I can only see you from time to time.”

As Hatan straightened and looked down, she also shifted to sit on the bed.

“And why is that so unpleasant?”

At the question, Lisha raised her eyes and met his calmly.

“Because I like you, Hatan. I always want to be by your side.”

She looked up at him earnestly, her face resembling that of a puppy yearning for affection. Hatan watched her in silence before finally letting out a laugh.

This woman was disarmingly straightforward. She was incapable of pretense. It was almost baffling how she managed to complete her missions with such a nature.

Satisfied, Hatan drew her closer and said—

“Stay in Mutran for two or three days, then return to the capital.”

At those words, a faint shadow of gloom crossed Lisha’s face. She asked again, carefully,

“If I finish quickly… then I can come back right away, can’t I?”

“Yes.”

Hearing the answer she wanted, Lisha nodded several times and buried her face against Hatan’s chest. Warmth brushed against him where her breath touched. Unlike his own cold body, Lisha’s was always warm. Even her breath carried that warmth.

She was truly a peculiar woman.

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

“This is the first I’ve heard of such a merchant guild.”

Adil Mutran said, his brows drawn tight. His expression was certainly furrowed, but it was still far less threatening than Hatan’s unyielding stare.

Lisha, unable to find any resemblance to Hatan, closed her eyes slowly, disappointment flickering across her face.

‘They really don’t resemble each other… Hatan and he…’

Although they shared the same surname, she had expected some resemblance. Yet, unlike Hatan’s sharp and imposing features, Adil had soft eyes and chestnut hair. While Hatan was like a warrior steeped in heady, intoxicating allure, Adil bore the gentler, sweeter aura of a priest.

“And in which region does your guild conduct its trade?”

Lisha quickly put on the mask of Hiyal and came back to herself. Curling her lips into an arrogant smile, she replied loudly.

“The tide that swells beneath the moon lasts only for a fleeting moment.”

The words sounded nonsensical on their own, but for Adil, they were more than clear.

The tide that swells beneath the moon lasts only for a fleeting moment.

It was the cipher for smuggled Atal brought in through maritime trade.

Adil stared at her in surprise while Lisha lifted the corners of her mouth in a haughty manner. Before arriving here, she had studied the women assigned by Caro, using them to perfect Hiyal’s persona. Now, flawlessly wearing that mask, she glanced at Adil briefly, then signaled to the waiting guard.

At her signal, a small box was placed on the table.

“What is this?”

“Think of it as… a token of courtesy.”

Adil carefully opened the box with a rigid expression. Inside, the contents gleamed—far outweighing the modest size of the container itself.

“……”

Adil stared down in silence at what lay within.

Lisha and Miltan did nothing to hurry him. Adil Mutran was a cautious man by nature. Yet this same man was secretly preparing a rebellion within his own household.

This mission — slipping into the heart of such a plan — was, without question, of an entirely different order to anything she had faced before.

‘…So that’s why the dose was so strong.’

Still faintly nauseated, Lisha fixed her gaze on Adil.

Tap—

Adil slid the box toward her.

“Take it with you.”

His voice was soft, but his refusal was clear. Lisha understood his meaning — that he would not act hastily — and her expression shifted ever so slightly.

“Hm… very well then.”

Her voice was coy and lilting, as if she were not at all disappointed. She glanced at Miltan, and her guard collected the box without hesitation. This made it clear that even if Adil refused, there were plenty of others ready and willing to accept.

Perhaps it was because this woman, Hiyal, exuded a strangely irresistible allure, or perhaps it was for some other reason, that Adil did something uncharacteristic. As she rose without saying goodbye, he stopped her.

“…What is it you want?”

Lisha turned lazily, her body twirling with unhurried grace, and looked down at Adil where he sat. Tilting her head, she tapped thoughtfully at her chin as though weighing the matter.

“Well now… what could it be?”

“If it is money, you already possess more than enough.”

Smiling faintly, Lisha eased herself back into the chair, crossed her legs and played with the ends of her hair. This gesture clashed oddly with her regal manner, yet suited her nonetheless.

“Then is it power you seek?”

At last — the question she had been waiting for!

Lisha stood up and moved closer to him. Leaning down, she whispered sweetly in his ear.

Startled by this unexpected intimacy, Adil flinched and leaned back, but he heard her words before he could move any further away.

“If one has no power… how could they ever hope to embrace the moon?”

“……”

For a moment, something flickered in Adil’s eyes.

“Then why bring such a proposal to me?”

Straightening, Lisha stepped away, turning her back on him. Adil sat dazed, watching her retreat as though spellbound.

“Hm… who can say? That, I believe, is the gift you will bring to me.”

She turned again with fluid grace, her lips curving into a languid, crescent smile.

“Move me—just once.”

“……”

In that hazy, dreamlike moment, his senses were dulled, as though he had been bewitched by a ghost. It was Hiyal who had first approached him with a request. Yet, somehow, the balance of power had shifted entirely and irrevocably in her favor.