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CHAPTER 83
“Ah, Lady.”
Oscar waved a hand toward the knight he’d been giving orders to, then walked up to me.
“We’re almost finished here. All involved have been arrested, and there’s plenty of evidence… Soon, the truth about the slave auction that was only a rumor will be exposed to the world. Hehehe, then Duke Wentworth’s honor will plummet straight to the ground—ah, apologies.”
Oscar, who had laughed in satisfaction at Duke Wentworth’s downfall, quickly clamped his mouth shut as he realized he was speaking to the duke’s daughter.
I gave him a faint smile, as if to reassure him.
“It’s fine. There’s no need to worry about that here. I’m here to cooperate, after all.”
“Even so… are you sure you’re all right?”
Oscar cast a side glance toward the Wentworth knights who were tied up and huddled in a corner.
“Hmm, it’s fine. But I’d appreciate it if you could make sure word doesn’t reach my father that I was here. I don’t have any real protection right now.”
“What do you mean you have no protection? His Highness the Crown Prince—”
“Do you really think His Highness would protect me?”
“Well, of course….”
Oscar started to answer but fell silent.
Considering what he knew about Vincent and Amelia’s relationship, he seemed to realize he couldn’t guarantee that.
He lowered his voice.
“Understood, Lady. I’ll keep your presence here as secret as possible.”
He also switched from “Lady Wentworth” to simply “Lady,” honoring my request.
Still, it seemed Oscar’s opinion of me had changed quite a bit after today.
“Thank you.”
I pulled my hood lower, and Oscar gave a small bow before turning away to attend to other matters.
I stood quietly in one corner and looked toward Vincent and Sylvia.
The two of them were talking seriously through the iron bars of a cage.
What could they be talking about?
I mean, I know the story, but I’m still curious.
And honestly… I’m dying to know if they’ll actually end up together.
***
Vincent glanced toward the back where Amelia was talking with Oscar, then shifted his gaze back to Sylvia.
“You said you had something to tell me?”
“Your Highness, please let me go.”
Sylvia gripped the bars tightly, her eyes glistening with tears.
Vincent stayed silent, studying her face.
Her long silver hair framed a face with clear blue eyes—gentle, kind, yet strong-willed.
Given his usual preferences, Vincent couldn’t help but think, *If I ever liked someone, it might’ve been someone like her.*
“Sylvia, was it?”
“Yes, my name is Sylvia Norman.”
“I heard you came from the Mage Tower.”
“Yes, I was an apprentice mage there—until yesterday.”
Vincent tilted his head slightly. One ear and eye still kept track of Amelia.
“Until yesterday?”
“Yes, but… not anymore.”
“Why did you leave?”
Sylvia hesitated for a moment, then clenched her fists as if steeling herself.
“Your Highness, the Mage Tower has become lawless. Too many terrible things happen there. I couldn’t bear to just stand by and watch any longer.”
“Terrible things? Such as?”
“For example…”
Before she could finish, Derek—who had been away on another task—approached Amelia.
Seeing that, Vincent raised a hand to stop Sylvia.
“Enough. We’ll talk more later.”
He turned to leave, but Sylvia grabbed the bars and shook them desperately.
“Wait! Can’t you at least free me? Please!”
Come to think of it, Amelia had told him earlier to release this woman.
Normally, her identity would need to be verified first, but it would be troublesome if she kept causing a scene here.
Besides, Vincent was eager to return to Amelia’s side.
“Stand back.”
Sylvia stepped away as ordered.
Vincent raised his leg and kicked the locked iron door.
Thunk. Thud. Crash!
Even after the door burst open, Sylvia just stood there in shock.
Growing impatient, Vincent held out his hand.
“Come on.”
Sylvia hesitated, then carefully placed her hand in his.
Vincent pulled her forward—only for her to trip on the threshold and fall right into his arms.
“Ah!”
She ended up pressed against his chest.
Vincent quickly steadied her, but his eyes darted back.
Amelia was already turning away with Derek, heading elsewhere.
“Are you hurt?”
“N-no, I’m fine.”
Sylvia’s flustered answer was met with Vincent’s distracted nod before he turned and walked off after Amelia.
Sylvia blinked, then quietly followed him.
***
I stood at a distance, watching Vincent and Sylvia.
When Derek came up beside me, I gave him a polite nod, then looked back at the pair.
They seemed deep in conversation—and then Vincent suddenly kicked the cage open.
The bars of a slave cage were that weak?
He looks awfully desperate to get her out…
Then, Vincent reached out his hand to Sylvia like a gentleman.
“Ah!”
And right on cue, she stumbled and fell into his arms.
…No need to watch this any longer.
I muttered to myself and turned around.
Derek stayed close by, as always.
“My lady, the carriage will be here soon. This way, please.”
“All right.”
As we walked through the warehouse toward the main tent, I saw the mess left behind—broken crates, torn cloth, splintered wood scattered everywhere.
But at least it was quiet now. Everyone had already been taken away.
“Good grief.”
I sighed as I walked forward. Derek extended his hand.
“Careful, my lady. The floor’s filthy.”
It was fine, but as a knight, it was his duty to offer, so I took it.
Just then, another hand reached in and grabbed mine first.
“Amelia.”
“Your Highness?”
I looked up, startled. His hair was a little messy, as if he’d rushed over.
Behind him trailed Sylvia, following close behind.
“We’re heading back now. The royal knights will handle the rest.”
“All right, but why so suddenly—”
I glanced between Vincent and Sylvia, and he quickly added, almost defensively,
“Ah, she seemed harmless enough, so I let her go. That’s fine, right?”
Was he asking me to confirm that?
Of course the heroine isn’t evil.
But still… that’s just what I know from the story.
Either way, it wasn’t like we could just lock her up again, so I nodded.
“Yes, it should be fine.”
“Then let’s go.”
Vincent took my hand and started to lead me away, but I held firm.
“Wait, Your Highness.”
He gave me a questioning look.
What about the heroine?
He’s just going to leave her like that?
“What about Miss Sylvia? Does she have anywhere to go?”
“Uh, well… no.”
Of course not.
This is the part where the Crown Prince takes her to the palace!
But instead, Vincent just stared blankly at me.
“She can find an inn somewhere, can’t she?”
“Does she even have money?”
Sylvia hesitated at my question, then shook her head.
Again.
“See?”
Vincent still looked genuinely confused.
Unbelievable. Do I have to spell it out for him?
“Why don’t you take her to the palace? She’s a mage, after all.”
“The palace? Why?”
“Well, uh—because she’s a mage, for one thing.”
“I-it’s fine, really. I can manage anywhere…”
Sylvia murmured, trying to step back.
Oh no, that won’t do.
I pulled my hand free from Vincent’s and grabbed Sylvia’s wrist instead.
