Seras's smile stiffened slightly. The attendant and the armored knight both snapped their gazes toward Simon at once. Only then did Simon realize his slip of the tongue and cover his mouth with his hand.
“Were you truly planning to do that, Your Highness?” asked Fael, frowning.
He turned fully toward Seras. "Are you planning to sneak out of the capital again? And not just to the Central Region this time, but to the North? To that dangerous snowfield?"
When Seras didn’t immediately deny it, Fael let out a strangled sigh. He pressed a hand to his brow, as if steadying himself.
"So that's why you asked me to stay for a while. You were planning to slip away with us when we left the capital."
Swallowing hard, Seras wore an apologetic smile. “That's why I said it would be better if you didn't know. If you knew beforehand, it would make you complicit. If you didn’t, I could claim it was my own stubborn insistence.”
"Oh, Lu Solar..." Fael let out a long sigh and squeezed his eyes shut.
Simon felt the same sinking dread, palm still pressed to his lips.
Oh, Lu Logis... just for today...
It was clear his careless mouth had ruined things again. To risk the princess's ire with his lifelong dream right in front of him."It's not certain yet," Seras said finally, taking a sip of wine, still not sparing Simon a glance. "I need to speak with my brother and have an audience with His Majesty before making the final decision."
The only eyes on Simon belonged to the attendant and the knight—and even they looked more weary than hostile. Perhaps he had voiced what they had been suppressing in front of the guests. Of course, that thought offered no comfort. What mattered to Simon was the princess's true feelings, and their thoughts were merely his assumption.
Opening his eyes, Fael said, "Forgive me for saying this, Your Highness, but I cannot assist with such a plan. Not in times like these. One wrong move, and not only I but my entire caravan could be branded traitors."
“I understand. But I swear this in my own name.” Seras nodded readily, placing her left hand over her heart as she continued, "Neither you, the Ark Caravan, nor the Hexagonal Alliance will suffer any harm. You won't fall out of favor with the royal family either. My brother and I will take responsibility."
"Your Highness..." Fael pressed his temples with his left hand.
With his right hand, he picked up the glass before him. "I simply cannot understand why you must go all the way to the North to meet the Agent of the Saint. If His Majesty learns the truth, he will prepare for war. Shouldn't you be protecting the capital instead of leaving it?"
Seras suddenly pressed her lips together. Simon tilted his head, but the attendant and knight looking at Fael gave small, silent nods.
Having gulped down a mouthful of wine as if parched, Fael looked back at Seras. "Is there something bothering you? If so, it would be better to speak to His Majesty and receive his permission."
"... It's because I don't think His Majesty will grant it," Seras replied in a subdued voice, smacking her lips briefly.
Fidgeting with her wine glass, she added carefully, "Perhaps he no longer trusts the Agent of the Saint. Though he vanished at the Platinum Dragon’s call… the fact remains that he is heading not toward the capital, but toward the North. And now, when the Empire is facing a grave and urgent threat, he has created a new sacred land in the frontier…”
This time, Fael moved his lips as if at a loss for words.
"I feel he not only doubts the Agent of the Saint's intentions but might make the wrong judgment because of it. And perhaps Father’s suspicions and fears aren’t entirely unfounded, judging by the path the Agent of the Saint has taken so far." Seras raised her gaze again, meeting Fael’s eyes. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.
Simon looked at Seras again. He hadn’t said a single word that might cast doubt on the Agent of the Saint, yet somehow, she had reached that exact conclusion on her own.
Truly the brightest star of the capital...
He marveled once more at her brilliance to have thought that far ahead in such a short time.
"An irreversible tragedy might occur. However, my brother cannot oppose His Majesty’s will. And he mustn’t, either."
She tapped her chest lightly with the hand resting over her heart, then looked to Fael once more, almost pleading.
“That is why I must go. I have to meet the Agent of the Saint myself and ask for his help. There is no one else in the capital who can do this.”
After facing her for a moment, Fael murmured, "How can you be so certain?"
As Seras paused, he added in a low voice, "Because it doesn't seem like you're preparing for a contingency. It sounds like you already know His Majesty's mind, the Agent of the Saint's decision, and the consequences that will follow."
"That's..." Seras hesitated. her lips moving silently.
To Simon's eyes, she didn't seem speechless, but rather conflicted over a secret. He recognized it instantly because he had suffered through similar conflicts countless times. Of course, he had lost the battle with himself every time.
“It’s just a feeling,” Seras finally said, exhaling softly.
It seemed Seras had overcome the temptation. Speaking with a slightly unsure tone, she took a breath and looked at Fael.
"And it's not a light matter I can just ignore. It's war. Even if Uncle... no... The former Crown Prince’s forces are no match for the Empire."
Fael let out a conflicted hum of thought.
Simon chose that moment to step in, “I agree with Her Highness.”
He felt it in his bones—this was his chance to recover from his earlier misstep, perhaps his only one.
"Of course, I do not mean that the Agent of the Saint will betray the Empire. However, Her Highness’s presence may prompt him to act sooner."
The attendant’s eyes sharpened, and the knight cleared his throat. Fael and the others all turned toward Simon, who pressed on with fervor.
"Countless innocent lives will be saved, and damage to the Empire will be minimized. And His Imperial Majesty will surely recognize Her Highness's noble sincerity in wishing to serve the Empire even at risk to herself."
Fael blinked, frowning slightly.
"Besides, hasn't Her Highness already left the capital in secret once before?"
Simon politely gestured to Seras with both hands and looked around the room.
"As a result, the Agent of the Saint served His Majesty and fought for the Empire at the risk of his life. He created another legend in the North. Since the Agent of the Saint is not one to ignore sincerity, I am certain he will do so again this time."
A strange silence settled over the room as his speech ended. Of course, the gazes of the attendant and the knight looking at Simon remained utterly cold.
Simon glanced at them once and shrugged. "Surely I am not the only one who trusts the Agent of the Saint?"
It was a decisive weapon he had pulled out, certain no one could refute it. Everyone here was indebted to him in some way. Of course, it was quite a stretch, but having gained momentum, that wasn't important.
"Of course... I trust the Agent of the Saint more than anyone, but..."
As expected, Fael groaned low. The attendant and knight, who had been glaring daggers at Simon, also looked away slightly.
"So I beg of you, Master Fael and Sir Mukapa. Please help me."
Seras, who had been smiling slightly with only the corners of her lips, turned to Fael and continued, "Ever since my little escape last time, the gate inspections have become stricter. I can’t leave the capital alone. And if I force my way out like other princes do, innocent gatekeepers will end up taking the punishment."
"The owners of the golden insignia always ask for difficult favors," Fael finally murmured.
Gulping down the remaining wine in his glass, he picked up the bottle from the center of the table and added, “Very well. However, this has nothing to do with the will of the Ark Caravan or the Hexagonal Alliance; it is planned and executed solely by my own discretion. In the worst case... please handle it that way."
“Don’t worry. I’ll stake everything I have to make sure it never comes to that.” Seras nodded firmly.
The attendant squeezed her eyes shut, and the knight grasped his visor.
I survived!
Simon exhaled quietly in relief, paying no mind to either of them. He was convinced that the secret the princess couldn’t bring herself to voice was her feelings for the Agent of the Saint.
Rumors had long claimed she’d collapsed after refusing food when he went missing, or that she’d cried herself to sleep for nights on end. That was one reason the number of people sympathizing with and supporting this princess had increased.
Of course, no one ever proved them… but still…
Simon was certain the rumors were true. For years now, gossip about the princess and the Northern Demigod had circulated like an open secret. Not bringing up anything disadvantageous to the Agent of the Saint in this situation wasn't just out of loyalty, but also to protect the princess's love.
“I begin to understand why you’re so admired in the capital, Young Master.”
And clearly, it had been an excellent choice this time.
Simon bowed, modest and triumphant at once. “I only spoke the truth, Your Highness. I am certain Master Fael wished to assist you as well.”
"I look forward to your performance at the banquet. I'm counting on you."
As Seras raised her glass, Simon picked up his own and nodded. "I will do my best."
It was as much a vow to himself as to her.
Receiving Seras's gaze next, Fael sighed through his nose and raised his glass. Mukapa raised his glass with his usual expression, and even Shahin picked up his water cup with a look that said the whole affair mattered little to him.
Looking at her companions in turn, Seras smiled. “Perhaps all of you are the gifts the Agent of the Saint sent me.”
She brought her glass to her lips. Simon followed her lead, letting the fragrance of the wine settle deep into his senses.
"Now then, let's end the gathering here for today."
Setting down her empty glass, Seras looked back at the group.
"You'll all be busy starting tomorrow. I've prepared private rooms, so rest well today and recover from your journey. The attendants will get you anything you need. I..."
Her gaze swept over the knight and attendant standing behind her.
"Regrettably, I still have matters to deal with."
"Yes, understood." Setting down his glass, Fael stood up. Simon and the others quickly followed suit.
"Then, we will take our leave first."
"See you again soon." Seras, standing last, saw them off with a smile.
As the attendant and knight bowed, the group, showing impeccable manners, turned around, exchanging glances.
Grinning at Shahin, Simon strode ahead to deliver the historic news to Brennen, who was waiting in the hallway—and, of course, because he wanted to watch Brennen grab the back of his neck in shock.
"You must be careful from now on," Fael whispered low the moment Simon grabbed the door handle.
Receiving the paused Simon's gaze, he wore a slightly bitter smile. "You have now stepped into the eye of the storm. If you stray from that center, you will be swept away."
Baring his teeth in a smile, Simon whispered as he opened the door, "Then, before I get swept away, I'll have to leave my name in history as a legend of high society."
Fael stared at him for a moment, speechless—then finally let out a dry chuckle.
"After the banquet, I will issue you a silver insignia. Now that I see it, Young Master, you seem fully qualified."
It was enough to make Simon smile even brighter.
***
The conifers making up the forest were now frosted over. The ground beneath them was covered in pure white snow.
Clip-clop, clip-clop
Through the heart of that frozen landscape, the white horses pulling the carriage pushed on, their winter coats fluttering in the wind. The ancient road carved into the snowfield was still fulfilling its purpose even now, countless years after it was first built.
Of course, grass and trees no longer grew here, and the path had seen no real upkeep for a long time, so the carriage jolted constantly even at modest speed.
Yet the grim expression on Caleb’s face, the newly appointed driver and guide, had nothing to do with his sore back. Even as he kept close watch on the horses’ condition, every bit of his focus was fixed on not losing the trail.
Snort, huff—
The horses, blessed by the Blessing of Brazier, indeed possessed stamina far exceeding that of normal horses. Even after a grueling schedule, they fully recovered their energy overnight.
However, the blessing was fading over time, and the horses' stamina wasn't infinite. Moreover, the road with its repetitive scenery carried the risk of taking a wrong turn at any moment.
And if that happened, they would be forced into a massive detour, and the Great Warrior would never tolerate such a mistake. This was, after all, the man said to have torn a bear apart with his bare hands at the age of five. Just seeing him cut down snowfield monsters encountered at night with a single stroke, it didn't seem like a baseless legend.
Karha… please grant me strength as well!
At least, up to now, the group had not taken a single wrong turn. The darkening storm clouds in the sky were proof. They were gradually getting closer to the ground, though it was hard to notice at a glance. They were nearing the wasteland people now called the demonic realm.
Of course, Caleb was the only one who was straining himself to the limit.
“What a lovely view for enjoying a drink.”
The scene behind the driver’s seat was the complete opposite. And it wasn’t just Thesaya, perched atop the roof with her silver hair fluttering in the wind like a banner.