* * *

Exhausted after retching up everything that had weighed me down, I realized it was time to hear the next confession.

It was originally scheduled after lunch, but the earlier events had thrown off the timetable.

I had no choice but to delay my meal and head to the confessional.

I couldn’t even recall how I listened to the confession.

I pretended to pay attention, letting the words flow in one ear and out the other.

My mind was too preoccupied.

Before I knew it, the confession was over.

It wasn’t until I parted with the penitent that my dazed mind began to clear.

The sunlight pouring over my head, the parched throat from retching, the mask pressing against my nose—all brutally reminded me of reality.

So…

Kaindel had sold his smile and moments since childhood, reviving the House of Schudelgarten as it stood today.

And now, he was at risk of being assassinated by those who despised him.

Digesting the overheard conversation, I headed to the dining hall, intending to finally eat.

Skipping lunch would leave me famished until dinner.

There were many troubling details in Viscount Chernian’s conversation.

First, why did someone of Kaindel’s noble status need “patrons”?

The meaning behind “selling his smile and moments” was unclear.

And why were Hadelveran’s nobles plotting to kill their hero?

Didn’t everyone love the Hero?

Scheduling the plot on Kaindel and the Princess’s wedding day was equally baffling.

Killing him during a royal event orchestrated by the king was unwise.

In a hierarchical kingdom, opposing the king equated to treason.

Now that I thought about it, hadn’t rumors from Aiden Village suggested unrest in the capital?

Snippets of conversations from Sehir and Owen a year ago came to mind.

The puzzle pieces I had gathered finally began to form a coherent picture.

Yet one crucial piece remained missing.

Without it, I couldn’t fully grasp the truth.

Lost in thought, I finished my meal and sat in a quiet corner of the dining hall.

Just as I settled down, someone suddenly sat across from me and playfully flicked my forehead.

“Ow!”

“Why so down today?”

Rubbing my reddened forehead, I looked up to see Owen grinning.

After a year of wearing a mask, I had grown used to recognizing people despite their faces being hidden.

So, I immediately knew it was Owen.

His eyes were slightly bloodshot, evidence of sleepless nights.

I glanced at his plate, which held only a meager serving of salad, and spoke.

“When did you arrive, Owen?”

“Just now.”

His dry gaze swept over me briefly.

He wiped his hands with a damp cloth and added flatly:

“Lots of eyes on you. Stop daydreaming and watch your step.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Very.”

“Well, I’ll be more careful. Thanks for the heads-up.”

So my mask hadn’t completely hidden my troubled state after all.

I hadn’t realized how plainly I was wearing my unease.

I need to be more careful.

Resolving to do better, I absentmindedly ran my fingers through my hair, its coarse texture brushing against my skin.

The dye Sehir had given me had turned my hair unnaturally rough, but it was effective.

Just a few drops were enough to dye my entire head, so I used it sparingly, touching up the roots when hints of gray appeared.

“Is this your lunch?”

“Yes, a very late one. What about you?”

“Same here. My schedule’s been all over the place.”

As Owen finally started eating, he blinked slowly, signaling agreement.

I smiled faintly and continued.

“Busy lately?”

“Goddess’s Day is coming up.”

“True, but this year seems especially hectic.”

“I suppose so.”

He nodded in agreement, chewing mechanically before swallowing.

Then he fixed his gaze on me.

“Not to mention the Hero’s wedding.”

“Ah, yes, the Hero’s wedding… Wait, what?”

“You didn’t know? It’s scheduled for the final day of the Festival of the Goddess.”

The Festival of the Goddess was a week-long celebration, one of the few occasions where nobles and commoners alike gathered in the square to revel.

“On that day, the royal palace will host the wedding of Duke Kaindel of Schudelgarten and Princess Kerelona. The news just broke yesterday, so you might’ve missed it.”

“Duke Schudelgarten…”

“Yes, Kaindel.”

The fork in my hand nearly slipped when I heard the unexpected revelation.

I’d already been bracing myself, especially after the mention of Kaindel and the princess’s wedding by Viscount Chernian.

It felt as though that day might not be far off, and I was trying to come to terms with it.

But to hear that the wedding would take place on the last day of the Goddess Festival?

That meant less than two months remained until Kaindel’s marriage.

It felt like a heavy blow to the back of my head.

My throat tightened.

“They say Kaindel has completely lost his mind. Are they still going to proceed with the wedding?”

“Well… His Majesty the King is adamant about uniting the royal family with the hero. So, yes, the wedding will go ahead as planned. And honestly, even if Kaindel is mad, waiting two years could be seen as generous.”

“You’re right.”

A bitter laugh threatened to escape but didn’t.

My lips, which had been curved up in a forced smile, drooped.

In that moment, the voice of Viscount Chernian, overheard outside the prayer room, echoed in my ears.

“Though it’s not set in stone yet, we’re eyeing the day the wine flows freely.”

A picture was forming before me, incomplete but unmistakable.

I could choose to shut my eyes and ignore the tangled mess.

Instead, I opted to face it head-on.

Across from me, Owen’s expression wavered, flickering like a shadow in the dim light.

What do I want to do?

The answer, which had eluded me, returned as my thoughts spiraled.

Owen spoke, breaking the silence.

“Isa.”

He called my name but then fell quiet, hesitation evident.

His lips pressed together as though struggling to find the right words.

When he finally spoke, his voice was deliberate.

“Doesn’t this bother you?”

“How should I feel?”

“I thought you’d be a little sad.”

“Ah.”

It seemed Owen expected me to be heartbroken over the news of Kaindel’s impending marriage.

Two years was, after all, a short time to forget a deep love.

Perhaps he regretted telling me about it.

“Well…”

But the truth was, Kaindel’s upcoming marriage didn’t faze me. It was a reality I had already accepted.

Kaindel chose the princess, aligning himself with power instead of me.

How could I object?

I had neither the power nor the influence to change anything.

And with nothing to hold onto, it was easy to let go.

The only thing that genuinely concerned me was Kaindel’s possible demise.

Knowing Kaindel, he might sense the dangers ahead and find a way to survive.

But stopping a wave once it’s begun?

Even for him, it was impossible.

He might endure for a time, but eventually, he’d be swept away—just as my sandcastle crumbled beneath him.

“Fairy!”

The clear laughter of a child from my memories cut through the storm of my thoughts, growing louder until it drowned out Viscount Chernian’s voice.

Why did you come to me?

With a wry smile, I traced a finger along the surface of the table.

“Owen, do you believe people change?”

“That’s a profound question. Why do you ask?”

“I’m not sure.”

I spoke softly, letting my eyes wander across the empty dining hall.

“Maybe that’s why I don’t feel sad.”

“People can change, or they can remain the same,” Owen replied, listening patiently before adding in his usual calm tone, “But if they do change, perhaps it’s not that they’ve become someone new. It could simply be that we’re finally seeing who they’ve been all along. In that sense, it’s not the person who changes, but our perspective of them.”

“…”

I hadn’t expected such a thoughtful response.

For Owen, typically pragmatic, this was surprisingly insightful.

Perspective.

The more I got to know Kaindel, the more my view of him shifted—admiration turned to love, love to disappointment, disappointment to resentment, and finally to confusion.

Maybe, as Owen suggested, it wasn’t Kaindel who had changed.

It was my perspective that had evolved.

As I pondered his words, Owen sighed.

“Now that I think of it, Daniel asked me to show you something.”

“Daniel?”

“Yes, a rabbit. He said to show it to you if we ever met.”

Owen tilted his head, a cherry tomato rolling between his teeth.

“Would you like to see it?”

* * *