* * *

Even after that day, Harilson occasionally brought me water or food.

If I was in the garden, he would bring water; if I was resting in my room, he’d offer me sandwiches.

It wasn’t unusual—Harilson had always been generous in sharing.

But his attentiveness after handling the notebook bothered me.

Rye bread today?

I gripped the doorknob tightly.

Harilson stood there, beaming with a loaf of freshly baked bread in hand.

It was the same kind I had given him on my first day at the temple.

“Why aren’t you taking it?” his gaze seemed to ask.

I sighed as I met his eyes. If my worries turned out to be baseless, I’d be relieved.

But the way Harilson had been increasingly kind made me suspect otherwise.

“Harilson.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you being so nice to me lately?”

I tried to infuse some levity into my tone. I didn’t want to dampen the atmosphere.

As I lightly tapped his shoulder, he nodded without hesitation.

His cautious movements dislodged some crumbs from the loaf, which fell to the floor.

My gaze shifted from Harilson to the falling crumbs.

“Because I’m grateful.”

“For what?”

“When I was sick, you covered for me during confession. That meant a lot to me.”

“Was it really that big a deal?”

“Of course. I was incredibly grateful.”

“…I see.”

It felt awkward not to accept the bread after hearing such an earnest answer.

Murmuring softly, I took the loaf from him.

The bread was warm and soft, just as he’d claimed—perfect for eating right away.

Of course, I wasn’t planning to eat it myself.

I couldn’t share the truth with Harilson, so I swallowed it down with a lump in my throat and forced a smile.

“Thanks. I’ll enjoy it.”

Once Harilson left the annex, I took the loaf to a small garden where May resided, following the hidden path Owen had shown me.

It was a quiet, secluded place deep within the temple—perfect for clearing my mind.

“Hi, May.”

I waved to the figure sitting under a tree’s shade.

Not that May would understand me without Daniel around, but it didn’t matter.

My goal was the canary perched beside her.

“Sorry, May. I need to borrow your friend.”

Approaching the bird, I extended a finger. It hopped onto my hand without hesitation.

Visiting the garden so often had made the bird familiar with me.

Once the canary was perched on my finger, May scrunched her nose and wandered off, distracted by a yellow butterfly.

After watching May vanish, I fed the canary small pieces of the rye bread.

Ever since accidentally feeding it a sandwich from Harilson, I’d been giving it all the food Harilson brought me.

Though I found eating them unsettling, I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away.

If the canary ever reacted poorly, I would’ve stopped.

But so far, it had always seemed fine, which gave me hope that my unease might be unfounded.

However, as the canary eagerly pecked at the crumbs, something strange happened.

Its body stiffened, and it collapsed.

No. It didn’t just collapse—it died.

Panic set in.

I touched its motionless body, but there was no heartbeat.

I froze, staring at the lifeless bird, my ears ringing with sharp, piercing noise.

Looking away from the bird, I spotted a rabbit sniffing at the remaining crumbs.

I tried to stop it, fearing the food might be tainted, but the rabbit ate the crumbs without issue and hopped off.

So it wasn’t the bread?

If the bread was safe, then there was only one explanation.

“Ah.”

Harilson’s food wasn’t harmless after all.

It contained a subtle, slow-acting poison—lethal only after accumulating over time.

“So, it was Harilson.”

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Harilson was the traitor all along.”

The pieces had been there, but I’d refused to see them, clinging to hope.

That hope was gone now.

“Hello. I’m Harilson.”

Burying the canary, I recalled our first meeting—when he barged into my room and declared himself my buddy.

Back then, I thought I’d found a friend.

But I was wrong.

“…”

As I concluded my thoughts and checked again, the canary that had breathed its last from the poison Harilson had given me had already vanished beneath the mound of dirt.

After taking a moment to collect myself in the garden, I began walking slowly toward the main building.

It happened to be time for the afternoon prayer.

I didn’t know exactly what kind of relationship Harilson had with Viscount Chernian, but considering the high likelihood of him being a collaborator, I had to inform Owen.

Though I wasn’t sure how to meet with Owen, who had been incredibly busy these past few days, I resolved to think about it further during prayer.

It was as I muttered to myself and hastened my steps that I noticed an unusual commotion at the normally quiet main building.

The place was bustling as if every clergyman had gathered there.

What’s going on?

Curiosity stirred at the unfamiliar scene.

I stood still, observing the crowd gathered at the main entrance.

Just then, a hurriedly moving clergyman grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him.

“Clergyman! Hurry up! The High Priest has summoned everyone to the front entrance!”

“What’s going on?”

“You haven’t heard? Oh, come on, you really don’t know?”

News?

As I tried to ask further, he cut me off, his face flushed with excitement, as if he couldn’t wait to share the news.

“The Princess of Hadelber Kingdom has just arrived at the temple!”

“The princess? Here, at the temple?”

“Yes!”

The unexpected news made my shoulders jolt.

At first, I dismissed it as just another visit from some dignitary.

But a princess?

No wonder the crowd was gathering.

I swallowed my question about why a princess would come to the temple, sensing that I already knew the answer.

Following the clergyman who still held my wrist, I approached the entrance where a line of people was assembled to greet someone.

As I discreetly blended into the crowd, a woman entered the temple.

She was striking, with fiery red hair and vivid blue eyes.

The strong scent of roses radiating from her made it easy to guess her identity.

The fragrance was too familiar to mistake.

“How have you been?”

“How could I not be, with such blessings?”

The woman, escorted by the Pope as if it were only natural, was none other than Princess Kerelona de Hadelber, the sole heir of King Hadelber and betrothed to Kaindel.

Smiling warmly, the Pope took Kerelona’s hand and led her forward.

“This way, Your Highness.”

As they began to move, a tall man who had been standing behind Kerelona followed closely.

Judging by the royal insignia on his uniform and the sword at his side, he must have been her escort knight, Heron.

Just as Kerelona quietly followed the Pope, about to bring the moment to a close, she suddenly stopped and turned her gaze toward the crowd. Toward my direction.

No way. Did our eyes meet?

A chill ran down my spine, and I clasped my trembling arms behind my back.

It couldn’t be, but it felt as though she was looking directly at me.

It must be my imagination.

As I tried to shake off the ominous feeling, Kerelona’s clear blue eyes lit up as they scanned the crowd.

“Hm?”

“Is something the matter, Your Highness?”

“Just a moment.”

Ignoring Heron’s puzzled glance, Kerelona raised her hand to halt him and began walking toward me.

Then she smiled—a smile directed unmistakably at me.

“Hello.”

* * *