RTGD 77

Chapter 77

“Madam.”

Litricia stepped out from the shadow of the pillar as if nothing had happened and turned back.

“I thought about it, and it seems better to have this talk now. I was taught that between husband and wife, grievances should not be buried.”

Kilian, who caught up with her in a few long strides, curved his lips into a smile.

It was a dazzlingly charming smile, one that could steal her breath away.

Hesitating, Litricia looked away, then sighed as though she had no choice and opened the door to her room.

At times like this, she appreciated that her chamber was right next to Kilian’s.

“If that’s the case, then I suppose I can’t refuse. Please, come in.”

“Litricia! Good heavens! Where have you been without even your veil on!”

“I just went to His Highness’s room for a moment.”

Allen and Mia, who had returned before she knew it, stared at her in shock.

“I’ll quickly prepare water to wash your feet!”

“Litricia, I would like to speak with you alone.”

At the low whisper by her ear, Litricia pulled out a chair and spoke to Allen.

“As you heard, His Highness and I need to talk privately, so just bring the water and then wait outside. Ah, and while you’re in the bath chamber, could you open the inner window? The dampness doesn’t clear up well in this weather.”

“The window?”

Since the only door in the bath chamber connected to Kilian’s room, Allen and Mia looked confused.

Still, without objection, they slipped into the bathroom. After some splashing sounds, they soon left, saying it was done.

Once the two were alone, the atmosphere turned strange—then suddenly, the man impersonating Kilian lunged at Litricia.

He covered her mouth to keep her from screaming and gripped her slender neck with one hand.

“Too easy. I thought I had to be cautious with the infamous North, but you’re wide open.”

“Who… urk… are you?”

“Me? Does it matter when you’re about to die?”

He scratched his head as though it was all trivial.

“You should have just lived quietly. Why stir up trouble? Thanks to you, my master’s mood has been greatly disturbed.”

“Mas… ter?”

“The most exalted person in this nation, of course. They want you gone. Said that because of you, a mere pup dares to think itself a tiger.”

Grinning, he tightened his grip. His rough hand pressed hard against her pulsing artery—just then, the bathroom door burst open and a longsword flew out, striking the back of the man’s head.

“Gah!”

The intruder tried to fight back, but Mark, springing like a coil, locked his stone-like arm around the man’s neck, overpowering him.

The intruder thrashed and wheezed, then went limp.

“Litricia! Are you all right?”

“Are you all right?”

Mark, having tossed the foaming man onto the floor, hurried to lift Litricia up.

She clutched her neck, red with handprints, breathing deeply, and nodded.

“Seems Allen and Mia understood me well.”

“Perhaps, but it was far too reckless! What if you had been injured! I should have subdued him in the corridor instead!”

“And if he noticed and escaped? That would have been worse.”

As Litricia struggled for breath, Justin rushed out from the bathroom, his face pale.

Allen, Mia, and Gorten, who had not left the doorway and had come running at the commotion, looked the same.

Justin bound the attacker and roared,

“Are you out of your mind! You should have left this to knights! Do you think Kilian left Mark here for nothing? I thought you were clever, but this was sheer recklessness!”

Everyone else, who had been about to speak, fell silent under Justin’s fury.

The truth was, everything began when Mark and Justin, observing from behind the pillar, noticed something was wrong and pulled Litricia away.

Just as she had realized that “Kilian” wasn’t Kilian—afraid of rain, failing to recognize the navy notebook—so too had they sensed something off.

But before they could plan, the intruder had stuck close to Litricia, forcing her into her chamber.

That odd bathroom design that had startled her the first day turned out to be their salvation: Justin and Mark slipped in from Kilian’s room through the bathroom and lay in wait.

The rest, as seen, followed naturally.

Litricia even thought absently that, despite no rehearsal, their timing wasn’t bad.

But both Justin and Mark seemed far more shaken than she was. She had thought their grim looks before entering meant they were ready—perhaps not, she mused calmly.

“The Empress Dowager’s… huff… this man is her agent.”

“You vile intruder. No wonder you slipped in like a rat—you’re one of Astara’s dogs!”

Justin, face red like a boiling kettle, poured magic-nullifying solution over the intruder’s face.

The false Kilian’s face melted away, revealing sharp, slitted eyes—an unfamiliar visage.

It was transformation magic, the same kind Kilian had once used at the victory banquet.

On the man’s clavicle was branded the mark of the Empress Dowager’s Shadow Knights.

But even with a changed face, breaching security this easily was impossible without help.

There must be someone colluding with her on the border—or worse.

Litricia pinched her nose at the acrid burnt smell seeping from the unconscious man.

Then Marsha came running, pale, clutching Dur, who hung from her arms sniffling, soot smeared on his round cheeks.

“Good heavens, my knees… I feared that bastard might try something, but looks like he’s already had the beating he deserved!”

Relieved at the sight of the collapsed Shadow Knight, Marsha set the child down.

The little boy toddled forward on short legs, hesitated between Justin and Litricia, then ran to her and clung to her neck.

Thanks to Kilian’s permission, Dur had been allowed into the castle sometimes, and Litricia had often read him fairy tales on her lap. He had grown fond of her.

But Dur reeked faintly of the same acrid smoke as the intruder.

“T-the huts, the huts are burning! Waaah!”

Litricia’s fingers went cold.

“What do you mean, Dur? Fire? Was anyone hurt? No one was hurt, right?”

“N-no, nobody. Hiccup.”

Marsha explained in his stead.

That afternoon, flames suddenly engulfed the huts in Telsi village. Luckily, the border guards noticed quickly and evacuated the children, so no lives were lost.

Still, the blaze refused to die down despite all efforts, forcing villagers and farmers to fight it together. Oddly, though the fire wasn’t that strong, nothing worked—until suddenly, it just vanished.

“That was magic. Nothing else. The bastard slipped in like a stray cat amidst the chaos.”

Justin ground his teeth.

“But even so, the entire garrison wouldn’t have left their posts.”

“Of course, a few stayed behind in the barracks and watchtower… tch, that damn villain!”

Marsha grimaced, unable to speak the full truth before the child. In her hand were many dog tags—the belongings of fallen guards, retrieved by a surviving comrade.

They were dead.

Litricia’s chest dropped like a stone.

If not for someone as skilled as Mark defending the castle, the other residents might have been in danger too.

A chilling thought. But worse still was…

“Kilian. I must go to Kilian!”

She handed Dur back to Marsha and staggered up. Her back and hip screamed from the earlier fall, but it didn’t matter.

“In that condition, where do you think you’re going!”

“They kill without hesitation! That means Kilian’s safety isn’t guaranteed! The broken communication… it might not be just a simple problem!”

“Litricia, my lord is strong. Please, calm yourself first—”

“Strong doesn’t mean he can’t die!”

Those who always tried to shield her froze, startled by her first ever outburst.

Ignoring them, she flung open a drawer. She was sure she had placed Nero’s teleportation scroll there.

Panic turned her mind blank red. She overturned the entire drawer, spilling its contents. Glass shattered somewhere, but she didn’t care—she grabbed the scroll amid the clutter.

“But you don’t even know where he is. He wouldn’t stay at the townhouse, not wanting to be noticed. At least secure precise coordinates first—”

“I know them. Here.”

Litricia pointed at her head. She remembered clearly the safe house coordinates mentioned in their very first communication upon arriving in the capital.

Seeing the certainty in her eyes, Justin quietly left and returned with his medical kit.

“Sir Justin!” Mark cried.

“Quiet, boy. You’ll wake the whole house. While I’m gone, you keep guard here.”

Mark gaped, astonished—Justin, the one he thought would restrain her the most, instead folded his arms and stood firm beside Litricia.

“If you must go, then I’ll go with you. I know your condition—you will not go alone.”

Faced with his immovable resolve, Litricia yielded.

She tore the scroll. A flash of white light burst forth.

Clutching the coordinates in her mind, she prayed, breathless, over and over: Please, let Kilian be safe.