MLWP 22

Chapter 22

“Information? I thought you already had an informant.”

The prince was the one to bring it up first. Silia’s face stiffened instantly.

‘When did he find that out?’

If he meant an informant, he was probably referring to Julin. Silia lowered her voice to a whisper.

“You did a background check on me?”

“That sounds really bad when you put it that way…”

“Did you, or didn’t you?”

“I didn’t. You’re kind of famous these days—no need to investigate. Everyone’s talking about who you came with, and who they are. I’m serious.”

“…”

He said he hadn’t, but who could say for sure? Even if he had, it wouldn’t be that strange. Nobles and royals digging into the people they associate with was nothing new. She’d seen much worse.

Still…

“So what is it? If it’s something I know, I’ll tell you.”

Something about this just didn’t sit right.

That look he’d given her in the greenhouse—it had felt like there was something hidden behind his seemingly naïve eyes.

‘Like he looks guileless but isn’t.’

And since this was something happening inside the royal family, she couldn’t just ask directly. There was also no guarantee he’d answer honestly. She came to a quick conclusion.

“…I’ll tell you more later.”

Just then, a sharp boom rang out. Turning her head, she saw a signal flare explode in the distance. It must’ve been the one “Chunky” and “Swiftie” said they’d fire.

“Let’s go.”

Awkward feelings aside, she was already tangled up with him now. And if the prince was found covered in blood near the Count of Diamant’s estate, there’d be a national uproar. It was better not to get caught at all.

Silia pulled Cronnel out from between the cliffs and helped him move quickly. For someone injured, he was keeping up surprisingly well, though he stumbled and leaned on her several times. Each time she felt his weight against her, she thought blankly:

‘…I should’ve just carried him.’

It would’ve been faster.

They barely made it back to the count’s estate before dawn. As soon as they slipped through the back door of the Diamant mansion, Cronnel leaned against a pillar and said he’d be fine.

“You can go. What if someone realizes you’re missing?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There are people nearby who can help.”

Silia looked down at his arm—still in bad shape. When she touched around the elbow joint, his eyes went wide. She diagnosed casually.

“No fracture.”

“You can tell just by touching it?”

“…Let’s just say I’ve developed a knack for this kind of thing. Anyway…”

She was about to cut a strip from her own nightgown but instead grabbed the prince’s cloak and tore it cleanly. His eyes widened again. Silia said without a hint of shame,

“I’m not using my clothes to stop your bleeding.”

Besides, her hem was covered in mud from wandering through the forest. A dirty cloth wouldn’t help here. Cronnel’s eyes softened—an apology in them.

“I’ll buy you a new nightgown. Since it’s my fault.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just wash it. Diamant will probably give me a new one anyway.”

A nightgown as a gift, though—

‘Among unmarried people our age, that basically counts as courtship.’

Every word and gesture from him seemed to teeter dangerously close to that line. She shook her head lightly.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

“Yeah. And…”

Cronnel suddenly handed her something.

“Why are you giving me this?”

It was Pheriot—the cursed sword. Cronnel smiled awkwardly.

“You looked like you wanted it.”

“…”

Apparently she’d shown too much excitement earlier. Silia quietly accepted the sword. Cronnel continued,

“Anyway, no one but the one it acknowledges can wield it. You’re the only one who can use it. And as for the curse—”

He lowered his voice.

“You can kill the treasury.”

“…Kill what?”

She blinked at him. Cronnel raised his index finger, as if to emphasize his point.

“The curse came from the royal treasury, so kill that.”

“It’s not something that can be solved just by saying—”

“With your help, it’ll be quick.”

“Me?”

She gave him a look that said why me? Cronnel laughed awkwardly.

“Haha. Can’t you help?”

Then his face grew serious.

“I’m asking seriously. I’m not just saying this.”

He gestured toward Pheriot.

‘Ah. Give something to get something—got it.’

“If you want a reward or my support for something, name it. Anything I can do.”

Silia sighed and looked down at the sword. It wasn’t a bad offer. And besides, she had to handle this anyway.

‘If I want full control of Pheriot, I’ll have to deal with this.’

Pheriot might be her only clue about Ilode. If that’s the case, she had to keep it—and make sure no curse could rebound onto her.

If she could make it seem like she was doing the prince a favor, that’d even the debt between them nicely.

‘And he knows that too—that’s why he’s asking like this.’

“Think about it. Just being recognized by Pheriot will boost your reputation.”

“It’s a stolen sword. I can’t exactly brag about it. You talk too smooth for your own good.”

As she secured Pheriot, she asked again,

“So how do you ‘kill’ the treasury?”

“I’ll explain on the day of.”

“On the day?”

“There’s a fixed date when the treasury opens. This month… on the full moon.”

“Oh.”

That was the same day as the Royal Academy Orientation. Her eyebrows lifted slightly. Cronnel shrugged knowingly.

“It’s fine. You can go to the orientation first and then to the treasury. It’ll stay open until midnight.”

“Easier said than done.”

Still, from the casual way he said it, it didn’t sound like the impossible kind of “killing.” Silia stood to leave but paused midway. She reached behind her neck, fiddled for a moment, then pulled something out from under her clothes.

“Anyway, I shouldn’t be the only one getting something. Here.”

It was a tourmaline necklace.

“What’s this?”

“A protection charm. It won’t heal wounds you already have, but still.”

“…”

The prince looked at her with an expression full of emotion—almost teary-eyed. For someone who looked so angelic, he sure made her feel uneasy.

“I’m giving it because I don’t want you getting cursed again while I’m gone, you weakling.”

If something did happen while she was away, it’d be a disaster. Better to keep him on her side for now. She could probably get something valuable from him later when she stepped back from all this.

“Thanks.”

“Wear it all the time. It’ll protect you from external harm—up to three times.”

Given how reckless he was, those three chances would probably go fast. Cronnel nodded repeatedly, then leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Was he really okay?

‘If word gets out that the second prince’s corpse was found at the Diamant estate, what then?’

She narrowed her eyes, watching him until he lifted a hand and waved lazily.

“…Fine. Suit yourself.”

The sun was already rising—it was risky to linger. Silia moved quickly, leaping up toward her room. She needed to be in bed before the servants came in.

Thunk.

As her figure shrank into the distance, Cronnel leaned his head back against the wall and smiled faintly.

“Seriously… I want her.”

“What do you mean—wait, that’s not the issue! What are you doing here?!”

A startled Royhan Diamant emerged from the morning mist, his face turning pale when he saw the prince’s wounds.

“I thought you promised not to do reckless things like this anymore?!”

“It was… kind of unavoidable. Cut me some slack.”

“Slack?! You can’t return to the palace in this state!”

“Just heal me first and then I’ll go.”

“That’s—ugh, I’ve been roped in again!”

“You’re my loyal aide, remember?”

At that, Royhan sighed in defeat. He’d fallen for that line before, he was sure of it. He grumbled,

“Another magic-related incident, isn’t it? I don’t even have to ask.”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“Please, Your Highness, stop obsessing over magic. One day it’s going to blow up in your face.”

Despite his scolding, there was clear concern behind his words. Cronnel just smiled that same carefree, childish royal smile.

“But it’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Stop brushing it off like that!”

Royhan quickly helped him up to walk.

“What’s that in your hand?”

He pointed to the thin gold chain peeking out from Cronnel’s fingers.

“A gift.”

“You’re receiving gifts now? What is it?”

“Secret.”

Cronnel laughed again, dodging the question. The necklace in his hand still felt warm—likely from being against her skin all that time. He held it gently, as if it were something precious.

* * *

Time passed rather quickly after that. Between learning etiquette, dressing properly, and memorizing the key figures for the upcoming orientation, days blurred together.

“I’m exhausted.”

Still, it made sense—they treated this like her official debut into society. She’d even had to have a new necklace made, after claiming she lost the old one.

‘Good thing they didn’t make me pay for it.’

The original one, with the engraved magic circle, must have been quite expensive. Typical of the Diamant family—they replaced it with something even more extravagant, saying the old one had been too plain.

When Fleure Diamant promised to have an even grander one made later, it was almost terrifying.

‘It’s already over the top.’

Silia sighed, rising from bed and looking out at the brightening sky.

Today was the Royal Academy Orientation.