TPWTL 30

The next day, the dark clouds began to thin, and the heavy rain pouring from the sky weakened. The imperial palace was calm, as if the ritual to summon the ancient god had never happened and the culprit who had been arrested was just a lie. At the center of the princess’s palace, as usual—

“Lady Taren?”

“Yes.”

At the unexpected request for an audience, Olivia set down her documents, unable to hide her surprise. Anbuh Taren had safely returned home just yesterday.

“We’ll take care of both of them from now on.”

Along with the mother and daughter who had been kidnapped around the same time. The culprit who sought the god was now floundering in the deepest depths of the imperial dungeon. In the end, the incident—where not even a single strand of the ancient god’s hair, let alone its existence, was confirmed—was over. But wasn’t it just a few hours since it had ended? If she was a victim, then obviously…

Facing Anbuh Taren, Olivia asked naturally.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Everyone said that too, but it’s just a few scrapes. Actually, Your Highness…”

Anbuh trailed off and lowered her eyebrows. Understandably so—Olivia had stood under that pouring rain for quite a while. Though she was slightly more physically resilient than the average person, that didn’t mean Olivia came out unscathed. Her face was visibly pale and heavy with fatigue, but she waved a hand lightly.

“There’s not even a scratch. More importantly, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yes. Your Highness, if I may ask, that knight…”

“He’s fine too.”

Of course, it was hard to say a palm pierced by a dagger was “fine,” but for him, it was no worse than a scratch.

“Oh…”

At Olivia’s curt reply, Anbuh opened her mouth again but shut it. Olivia didn’t press her further. Though she claimed to be fine, it had only been hours since they survived a major ordeal. The fact that she brought up Cryer suggested she had been fully conscious during that time. As Olivia’s sluggish thoughts caught up to that realization, her blurred eyes narrowed. Don’t tell me—she came to say she fell for the knight who had rescued her so dramatically? Considering the previous grand tale of love she had told, it wasn’t impossible…

But Olivia had already made it clear that nothing romantic was going on between her and Cryer. Watching Anbuh stare silently into her teacup, her pink crown visible, Olivia reached for her own. Clink. Just as she picked up her teacup, Olivia frowned. Her fingers felt heavy and dull, and her vision was irritatingly narrow. She clicked her tongue inwardly. There were no visible injuries, but her limbs were icy cold and the fever came in waves strong enough to make her dizzy even while seated. She knew better than anyone that she wasn’t truly fine. Still, if she wasn’t collapsing right this second, then there was work to do. She was someone who could determine life or death with a single signature—Olivia knew that better than anyone.

She raised her cup to moisten her parched lips, scorched by her boiling fever, when Anbuh suddenly spoke.

“That knight… He’s connected to this incident somehow, isn’t he?”

It was an utterly unexpected question. Olivia had assumed she’d just gush about how Cryer looked like a prince out of a fairy tale. But being taken aback didn’t mean she could gape and ask, “How did you know?” Instead, Olivia tilted her head slightly, keeping a faint smile.

“Of course. Didn’t he save you?”

At the flawless answer, Anbuh nodded vigorously.

“Of course. But I’m talking about the ‘god.’”

As soon as Anbuh fell silent, a dark shadow fell over her.

“Cryer!”

Her vision swirled, but Olivia had already grabbed Cryer’s arm. When she yanked him sharply toward her, the shadow looming over Anbuh slowly receded. Olivia made him sit beside her before she spoke.

“Lady Taren, breathe.”

“Ah—! Hah, hah…”

Only then did Anbuh realize she had stopped breathing. She let out ragged gasps as Olivia gripped Cryer’s arm tightly and said sternly to her:

“Whatever you think you noticed, keep it to yourself. No—forget it.”

That day, at that time, Anbuh Taren saw something. Realized something. But that was all.

“Forget it.”

Olivia met her eyes squarely, repeating herself. Yes. Anbuh had to forget. The “god” she spoke of might still be without a form, but the Cryer bound by that god’s chains would never tolerate her involvement. If Olivia hadn’t caught him, Anbuh wouldn’t have even realized she was dying—

But the words Anbuh spoke next were even more unexpected.

“I want to help.”

“What?”

Even as Cryer’s blood-red eyes threatened to tear her apart, Anbuh didn’t flinch.

“He saved me. I owe him my life, so I want to repay it.”

“If you fulfill your duty as the next head of House Taren, that’s more than enough.”

Despite Olivia’s wall of refusal, Anbuh stood firm.

“Precisely because I’m Taren. I can be of real help, no matter what it is.”

Looking into Anbuh’s bright, unwavering eyes, Olivia realized she wasn’t going to back down. In truth, even though Cryer was far from human in many ways, and Olivia had some knowledge of what was to come, breaking a contract with a god was impossibly hard. Anyone who could understand their situation and help… would have to be welcomed with open arms.

But the world didn’t always run on logic and efficiency. The “god” was Cryer’s weakness—his reverse scale. If Anbuh hadn’t mentioned the god and simply offered help, it would have been easier. But once the words were spoken, like spilled water, they couldn’t be taken back.

Faced with Olivia’s fierce resistance, Anbuh inhaled deeply. Her chin still trembled under Cryer’s gaze, but her resolve did not waver. Anbuh was pure-hearted and believed everyone had goodness in them. But she wasn’t foolish. As the sole heir of House Taren, she was quick-witted and shrewd. And more than anything—after enduring such a grim and dangerous ordeal, she still extended her hand to those in need, purely out of goodwill.

On that stormy day, at that place, Anbuh had seen—or rather, sensed it. That something massive and indescribable pressed heavily on the shoulders of the princess and the knight of rumor. It was likely the “god” Cryer had spoken of.

“For some unknown reason, Your Highness and your knight… are fighting against a god, aren’t you?”

The people who saved her life were in trouble—far beyond anything she could imagine. So Anbuh didn’t need to think deeply. She didn’t want to think deeply.

“I want to help.”

She repeated the same words with a wide smile. Just like always. So Olivia couldn’t help but ask:

“Do you even understand what the consequences might be?”

She was kidnapped and marked as a sacrifice just for helping a man in trouble. If Cryer and Olivia hadn’t arrived in time…

Anbuh tilted her head slightly and answered at once:

“I don’t.”

Such a simple, cheerful, and confident response.

“…What?”

“Even so, I still want to help.”

Though her tone was light and her expression innocent, Anbuh’s will was like forged steel. Cryer, quietly watching her, slowly leaned toward Olivia and whispered in her ear:

“She might actually be useful.”

Olivia’s eyes widened, turning to him in shock. Her face clearly asked the question, even if she didn’t speak it. Cryer answered with ease.

“Yes. If she wants to help this much, no need to turn her away.”

“You were just about to kill her for mentioning the god!”

“But I didn’t.”

Still holding his metaphorical leash, Olivia asked:

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“…I saw something.”

A clipped answer. Olivia pulled his arm and leaned close.

“What did you see? Let me see it too.”

Cryer didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in even closer, until their breaths mingled, and whispered:

“…No, I saw you in her.”

At the low murmur that brushed her ear, Olivia found herself rubbing her chest. It felt like she had swallowed a feather—ticklish and odd. Tilting her head, she was interrupted by the voice she had momentarily forgotten.

“If you two need to speak privately, shall I excuse myself?”

Naturally, Anbuh had witnessed the entire whispered exchange. Her wide eyes and sincere tone made it clear she genuinely meant to give them space. Olivia cleared her throat and waved a hand. Anbuh, half out of her seat, sat back down, and Olivia spoke something unnecessary.

“I told you before—we’re not involved romantically.”

A typical person might nod along at the princess’s claim while secretly thinking, Maybe not love, but something close to it. But Anbuh wasn’t typical. She took people’s words at face value. Naturally, she nodded confidently at Olivia’s declaration.

“Yes!”

Her firm and enthusiastic response made Olivia pause for a moment. Did they really seem that unrelated…?

A strange, indescribable emotion welled up in her chest, but it dissipated when she saw Anbuh rise gracefully.

“For the sake of the Princess, I—Anbuh Taren—will do everything in my power.”

With a beaming smile, she added:

“Please, just call me Anbuh!”

Watching her go, Olivia whispered to Cryer.

“…In what way does she look like me?”