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Chapter 35
There was no pain.
“Huh?”
My body was suddenly pulled away from the magician and wrapped in a firm embrace.
Who…?
As I turned my head, I saw a familiar golden hair gleaming under the moonlight.
“Your Highness?”
Vincent carefully set me down after carrying me away.
“Are you all right?”
“How did you get here…?”
“I heard a call.”
“Ah, right. I dropped it earlier.”
At that moment, Zeiss’s angry voice rang out.
“Roven, stop right there! What were you doing here? Why did you attack someone? Roven!”
Roven ran off in a panic, and Zeiss chased him at incredible speed.
But then Roven suddenly changed direction and charged toward where Vincent and Amelia were standing.
“Uwaaaah! Glory to Lord Jor Meister!”
“Eek.”
Roven hurled a fireball toward us as he ran.
For reference, “Jor Meister” was the name of the very first magician, revered almost like a god among mages.
It seemed like I was about to be roasted alive, but Vincent calmly stepped forward and raised his arm at an angle.
Then, as if a transparent barrier had appeared before him, the flames split apart on either side and vanished.
Oh, that must be the holy blessing said to exist only in the royal family.
Of course the male lead would have something special like that.
The Fitzroy bloodline, the imperial family, was said to carry this holy blessing that protected the body from hostile attacks.
It worked against both magical and physical attacks.
That was why members of the royal family were rarely assassinated.
Most of their deaths came from natural causes, illness, or accidents.
Long ago, when the Empire was on the verge of losing a war, royals stood at the front lines as living shields, and that turned the tide of battle.
Hmm, so that’s why Amelia killed Vincent with poison.
It seemed even the holy blessing couldn’t stop poison.
In any case, Roven’s attack had been nullified, and he now stood frozen in the middle of the road.
Vincent looked at him coldly and asked.
“Roven, speak the truth and I will spare you. What were you doing here? You’re affiliated with the Magic Tower, aren’t you? Was this connected to the Tower Master?”
“No. It has nothing to do with the Tower Master!”
“Then what?”
Roven bit his lips, hesitating to speak, and suddenly conjured another flame in his hand, trying to shove it into his own mouth.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
A long whip flew out from somewhere and wrapped tightly around Roven’s body.
It was Zeiss’s divine weapon.
Roven was instantly bound and unable to move.
“You can’t just try to die like that. You need to tell us everything.”
Zeiss approached with a grin, while Roven glared at him with bloodshot eyes.
It was clear why Zeiss was the commander of the Capital Defense Corps.
“This is all because of your mother! If not for that woman…!”
“My mother? You mean my mother, Duchess Sophia Royce?”
“Yes!”
I was standing behind Vincent, watching the situation.
But as Roven shouted, his voice began to echo strangely, fading further away.
Am I dizzy?
The thought barely passed before my vision darkened and sleep overwhelmed me.
***
Thud.
Hearing a sound behind him, Vincent turned and was startled.
“Amelia.”
Amelia had collapsed unconscious on the ground.
Vincent quickly crouched and lifted her into his arms.
“Amelia, Amelia?”
Her body burned with heat.
Vincent clenched his jaw.
She had wandered the maze garden in this condition?
If only he had gone in and stopped her sooner.
The truth was, he had known.
Amelia’s reputation had never been good, and at a party hosted by the pro-imperial Royce family, there were bound to be many who bore grudges against her.
Out of spite, and with a bit of curiosity, he had left her alone in the middle of the party.
He had even known that once the fireworks ended and the women entered the maze garden, someone might play tricks on Amelia.
But he had thought it would be fine.
Even if someone tried to trouble her, Amelia was still the Crown Prince’s fiancée.
And she was also the daughter of House Wentworth.
Though guards were not allowed at the party, he hadn’t believed her safety would be truly at risk.
Vincent lifted Amelia with a heavy expression.
Zeiss, after binding Roven more tightly, rushed over with wide eyes.
“What happened?”
“She suddenly collapsed.”
“What? Hey, Roven! What did you do to the lady?”
But Roven, gagged and bound, could not answer.
Vincent spoke in his place.
“No. There are no injuries. It doesn’t look like she was attacked.”
“Then what? Wait… her complexion doesn’t look good.”
Zeiss reached out to check Amelia’s forehead, but Vincent suddenly turned his body away.
“Uh?”
Zeiss looked at him in confusion, but Vincent avoided his gaze and gave a command.
“Finish up here and come in later. Make sure no more suspicious people are lurking around.”
“Well, sure, but—”
Vincent didn’t wait for his answer.
He leapt into the air, holding Amelia tightly, soaring high above the maze.
Since Vincent wasn’t a magician, it was clear he was using boots enchanted with a one-time flying spell.
“I heard those are single-use…”
Flying magic consumed enormous mana, so once used, the boots became ordinary and useless.
Yet despite their great cost, Vincent had used them just to carry Amelia.
Even if he had ordered a knight to carry her on foot, it would only have made a difference of about thirty minutes.
Amelia didn’t seem in such a critical state that thirty minutes would have mattered.
“Hmmm… interesting…”
Zeiss watched Vincent disappear into the sky with a curious look.
Soon after, knights of the Royce family arrived, and Zeiss handed Roven over to them.
“Yes, my lord.”
***
It was always darkest just before dawn.
The streetlamps had gone out, and the few late-night passersby had vanished entirely.
Step, step, step.
In the capital of the Arthurian Empire, the most famous district was without question Midrun.
It was the most glamorous, the most extravagant, and the place that drew the eyes of the people.
Visitors from other countries never failed to stop by its shops.
But ironically, the place where the most money actually flowed was not Midrun.
It was Natron, the district on the complete opposite side.
There, goods exchanged hands in higher volume than anywhere else.
Yet the buildings in Natron were old, disorganized, and gave off a dreary atmosphere.
And through those shadowy, desolate alleys of Natron moved a single figure.
It was a middle-aged woman dressed as a maid.
She glanced around nervously as she crept along.
After wandering through the alleys for some time, she finally stopped before a certain building.
Beside the door hung a roughly written signboard: “Twist Trading Company.”
Before entering, she swallowed hard.
“It’s fine. I can make up for it soon. Next time, I’ll definitely succeed.”
Muttering to herself as if hypnotizing away her unease, she slowly pushed the old wooden door open.
The interior was more ordinary than expected.
A worn lamp flickered dimly, illuminating shelves with liquor, some foodstuffs, and daily necessities.
But those were not what she came for.
Perhaps because it was so early, no one was tending the shop.
She looked around, then picked up a small bell from the counter and shook it.
Ring, ring.
The clear sound
echoed, and soon someone slowly descended from the second floor with a yawn.
“Who could it be this early…”
He looked annoyed, but when he saw the maid, he rubbed his eyes and looked again.
Then, recognizing her, he came down more quickly.
