Chapter 8

A drop of blood slid down the blade like a bead of crimson rain, falling from a sword so sharp it looked as if even a light brush would split skin apart.

Then his gaze shifted again.

Kairus, the Crown Prince, stood in quiet thought, absently tracing his own sharp jawline with slender fingers as if the chaos around him were nothing more than background noise.

Isabella’s hazel eyes darted restlessly, trembling like a carriage racing over a rough, uneven road. Panic flickered clearly in them.

Of all possible places, she had almost run into Ikanuel in the deserted annex palace—only to instead find herself face-to-face with the Crown Prince… in the middle of him disposing of assassins.

Of all the possible kinds of bad luck, this was almost impressive.

“…M-my name?”

Caught in an impossible situation, Isabella stammered at Kairus’s question.

“I’m Sally Brown, hired for Princess Elena’s birthday banquet, Your Highness.”

“Sally Brown.”

Kairus stepped closer without hurry. He leaned in slightly, meeting her eyes at a distance so close it felt as if he were peering through glass.

His amber pupils shimmered with curiosity.

Then, suddenly, his eyes curved—playful, almost mischievous.

“I don’t particularly enjoy people who lie.”

“P-pardon?”

“Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

Her heart sank.

There was no way the Crown Prince could possibly know she was a temporary hire… could he?

Avoiding his probing gaze, Isabella forced herself to continue speaking.

“That… that can’t be true, Your Highness.”

“Hm. Let’s assume it’s not.”

His tone softened, almost indulgent.

“Then I should call you Lady Sally?”

Call me whatever you want, Isabella almost said—but the words died in her throat. Her lips trembled instead.

“I-I was just on my way to prepare for the banquet…”

She began inching backward, hoping—praying—to escape this conversation.

But Kairus tilted his head slightly, as if seeing right through her.

“I haven’t finished speaking yet.”

The meaning was clear.

Don’t move.

She froze and returned reluctantly to her spot.

“Where were you going?” he asked.

“To retrieve chairs for Princess Elena’s banquet,” she answered quickly.

“Hmm. I see.”

“Yes. I really must return soon.”

She nodded desperately, hoping he would let her go.

He didn’t.

A faint suspicion flickered in his eyes.

Does he think I’ll spread what I just saw?

In the palace, silence was survival. Isabella’s face paled instantly.

She bowed quickly.

“I swear I will not speak of what I saw today.”

“Is that so?”

“May I… return now?”

She lifted her head slightly, trying to look as harmless as possible.

Kairus’s gaze shifted.

“Come to think of it… didn’t you lose something in the palace?”

“Lose something? I don’t think I—”

“Wait.”

Without warning, he reached out and gently grasped her wrist.

The touch was careful—almost polite—but firm enough that she couldn’t move.

The moment his skin touched hers, the smartphone hidden in her pocket vibrated violently.

A system notification flashed across the screen.

But she had no time to look.

“I didn’t intend to meet you like this,” Kairus murmured.

Before she could react, he turned her hand over and placed something into her palm.

A white handkerchief.

Isabella froze.

Her eyes darted between the cloth and his face.

“You left this in my palace this morning, didn’t you?”

He stepped closer again, as if trying to confirm something only he could sense.

A fresh, sweet fragrance brushed her senses—like a mix of berries crushed into something bright and intoxicating.

Then she felt it.

Something subtle but unmistakable flowing between them.

A faint energy—cool, refreshing… alive.

“Aah…”

A quiet, almost delighted sound escaped Kairus’s lips.

The sensation was refreshing, yet strangely… thirst-inducing.

“This is dangerous,” he murmured.

“…What?”

Isabella finally looked down.

Her wig—gone.

It lay tangled on the ground, discarded during her escape from the assassins earlier.

She had been insisting she was Sally Brown this entire time… without even realizing.

Her face turned ghostly pale.

Kairus’s eyes gleamed.

“Let me ask again,” he said softly. “Is your name really Sally Brown?”

Isabella’s expression stiffened. Her eyes darted helplessly left and right like a trapped animal.

A faint laugh escaped him.

Even while knowing she was lying, he didn’t press further.

“Seems difficult to answer,” he said lightly. “I won’t ask further. Temporary worker Sally.”

“….”

“Shall we clean up the mess first?”

He flicked his fingers.

Flames of orange mana erupted around them—controlled, precise, swallowing the corpses scattered across the ground.

In an instant, everything vanished.

No blood. No bodies. No trace.

As if nothing had ever happened.

“Until this situation is settled,” Kairus continued casually, “you will report to my palace.”

“…Me?”

Her entire plan collapsed in that moment.

She had only intended to work briefly and return quietly.

Now she had not only crossed paths with Kairus—but might end up entangled with him far longer than planned.

“I only agreed to work for one day,” she tried quickly.

“Jessica will handle that. And if it’s money you’re worried about… how about five million krona per day?”

Five million.

Her mind faltered for a second.

But she shook her head.

No matter how much money, staying in the palace was dangerous.

If I slip up even once, nobles will realize who I am.

Still—

“An additional ten million krona as a bonus,” he added calmly. “And more allowances, of course.”

Her calculations stopped.

Her monthly allowance for noble maintenance suddenly felt insignificant.

If I accept this… I could afford everything.

Still, she hesitated.

Kairus tilted his head.

“You said you’d keep what you saw a secret. At least let me determine whether you’re someone worth trusting.”

“That… makes sense.”

“And the assassins may target you now that you’ve witnessed them.”

“Me?”

“To them, a surviving witness is an inconvenience.”

That part… sounded disturbingly logical.

Isabella slowly nodded.

“Ah… I see.”

Kairus smiled faintly, like a cat waking from sleep.

“That nod means yes, correct?”

“Eh—ah…”

“Good choice.”

“…Yeah. I’m screwed.”

She muttered it under her breath.

Kairus’s gaze sharpened slightly.

“What was that?”

“I-it’s a foreign expression! It means I’ll work very hard!”

“I’ve never heard that language before,” he said pleasantly. “But your enthusiasm is appreciated.”

“Ah… ha ha… thank you, Your Highness.”

Her laugh was stiff, trembling at the edges.

And yet Kairus didn’t leave.

He just watched her.

As if waiting.

As if measuring.

Does he already know who I am?

Her thoughts spiraled.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

A voice came from beyond the door.

“Ignoring the Crown Prince’s permission would be impolite, wouldn’t it?”

Ikanuel.

Isabella’s blood ran cold.

Of all times.

Of all places.

If Ikanuel entered now, everything would collapse.

There was nowhere to hide.

Her mind screamed.

Think. Think—

But before she could move—

A shadow shifted.

Kairus stepped slightly in front of her.

And just like that, he blocked her completely from view.

“…I don’t recall inviting you in,” Kairus said lazily.

Ikanuel entered.

His expression was composed at first—until his gaze shifted.

A faint rustle of hair.

A glimpse of pale gold.

His blue eyes widened slightly.

“…Isabella?”