Chapter 15
In the dim light, a glint flared in his red eyes.
Caron’s gaze locked straight onto Jeril as he approached, lips barely parting.
— If you get caught, you’ll die.
How did he recognize me even with the mask on?!
— Stay right there.
No! Not “stay there,” this is when you run!
Jeril frantically crossed her arms in an X. Her lips moved soundlessly.
— Shh. Witnessing suspicious activity. Do not approach.
— What is she saying?
It was infuriating. I can see his lips just fine—why can’t he read mine?!
The X-shaped gesture grew more frantic, rising all the way above her head, an unmistakable plea for him not to come any closer.
Rustle.
Her fluttering sleeve snagged on the bush.
“Who’s there?!”
She tried to bolt, but the robed figures immediately yanked her out from behind the shrubbery.
Just before being thrown to the ground, her wide eyes met Caron’s for a split second.
“We’ve caught someone. Just a young noblewoman, what shall we do?”
“That must be determined. She could be a spy. Remove her mask.”
But the mask wouldn’t budge—it was magically glued to her face.
The Crown Prince frowned at the sight of his knight struggling to pull off a ridiculous bunny mask, then gestured for him to stop.
Jeril seized the moment to speak quickly.
“I just got lost, that’s all!”
“A pathetic excuse. Who sent you?”
Could you at least try believing me once? I’d doubt me too, but still!
Wait—if they’re talking about a spy, that means there’s an opposing faction…?
A third group aware of the Crown Prince and the Saintess’s plan—if she could figure out who they were, it might help her stop them later.
Jeril decided to act the part of a confused noblewoman.
“I swear I don’t know anything! Please, show mercy!”
“The more you plead, the more suspicious you look.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Is this because I’m wearing a bunny mask?!”
“Lefert Duchy? The Freka Kingdom? Or perhaps the Eastern Union?”
Jeril blinked at him in disbelief.
…Is he an idiot?
The Saintess seemed to think the same; her brow twitched sharply.
Snatching a sword from a knight’s hand, she slashed toward Jeril’s neck.
“Eek!”
She’s actually trying to kill me!
Jeril barely rolled away, clutching her pounding heart as the blue-tinted blade stabbed deep into the grass beside her.
She yanked the sword out with both hands and hurled it at the knight rushing toward her.
The hilt spun midair and whacked him squarely on the bridge of his nose.
“Argh!”
The knight clutched his bleeding nose, glaring in shock.
“Catch her. Kill her.”
The Saintess’s voice was cold—gone was her saintly grace.
Jeril sprang to her feet and dodged the hands reaching for her.
I told you, my nickname used to be “rabbit!”
Still wearing the rabbit mask, she darted around the clearing—until she spotted Caron running toward her, face tight with worry.
He was still some distance away, silver gun in hand, but he hesitated.
If he doesn’t move faster, I’m going to die before he gets here!
Jeril ducked under another swing aimed at her thigh, heart racing.
Die here or die later at Caron’s hand… The answer’s obvious.
At least die a few seconds later!
She squeezed her eyes shut and shouted:
“I’ll tell you the truth!”
“Stop,” the Saintess ordered.
The attackers froze instantly.
“Speak.”
“…We were having a secret rendezvous!”
“What?”
“I was playing hide-and-seek in love! Duke Lefert is my lover!”
A stunned silence followed.
The only sound was Caron’s footsteps growing louder as he pushed through the bushes.
The silver gun in his hand trembled slightly.
Jeril put on her brightest smile—while sobbing inwardly—and added:
“…Isn’t that right, darling?”
Caron’s expression twisted grotesquely. I came to save you, and this is what you come up with? his face said.
“Duke, is what she says true?”
The Crown Prince asked suspiciously. All eyes turned to Caron.
Just say yes!
Jeril nodded frantically, eyes wide and pleading.
Caron sighed inwardly—a breath that carried both resignation and the faintest relief.
I can’t take my eyes off her for a second.
She’d escaped out of nowhere, only to stumble right into the Crown Prince’s private garden.
And what’s with that stupid bunny mask?
Holstering his gun, Caron finally spoke.
“She is indeed my lover.”
“…You’re saying the Duke of Lefert is in love?”
“Is there a problem with that?”
Despite his polite tone, the slight tilt of his head made it feel as though he were looking down on everyone present.
His red eyes—cool and composed again—swept across the scene:
The stunned Crown Prince.
The sword-wielding Saintess.
The cloaked figures trembling nearby.
Why on earth would you plot treason in the imperial palace itself? Idiots.
His gaze drifted to the grass, where he saw a patch stained crimson.
…Is she hurt?
It was actually the blood of the knight Jeril had smacked in the nose—but Caron had no way of knowing that.
“Lies,” the Saintess said coldly. “Isn’t she one of your spies, Duke?”
The blade pressed harder against Jeril’s neck, the blue steel cutting into her skin until beads of blood formed.
Caron’s eyes hardened.
“A spy? And what reason would I have to plant one among you?”
“…”
“Well? Answer me.”
He closed the distance between them, unhurried, his gloved hand gathering a faint red aura.
“If you can’t answer, then you’ll explain everything—why you attacked my lover, why she’s bleeding, and why you still haven’t lowered your sword.”
“…Duke, it seems we’ve made a mistake.”
The Crown Prince forced a stiff smile.
With the Duke of Lefert involved, the best course was to pretend ignorance and retreat.
His father’s warning echoed in his mind:
‘Crown Prince, never let that man get leverage over you. Don’t give him any excuse.’
Better not to make things messy—especially with their plan so close to fruition.
He gave the Saintess a subtle signal. The blade withdrew, and Jeril immediately stepped back.
The Crown Prince plastered on a social smile and bowed slightly.
“…I apologize for my rudeness, not knowing she was your lover. May I have her name?”
“I am Marvasa of the Barony of Ganadara,” Jeril said smoothly. “A humble country noble—you likely haven’t heard of me.”
“I see. Lady Marvasa, I’m glad you’re unharmed.”
The ignoramuses, knowing nothing of Hangul, nodded as though it were a perfectly plausible name.
They’ll start investigating soon enough. Good luck finding me, with a mask on my face.
As soon as Jeril stepped fully back into Caron’s reach, the red glow around his hand faded away.
“Then, Duke, until next time.”
Once the Crown Prince and the Saintess left, silence returned to the garden.
Caron spun his gun idly in his hand and suddenly asked:
“‘Darling’?”
“Could we please pretend you didn’t hear that…”
Her whole body twisted with embarrassment.
If shame were a number, hers would’ve exceeded a hundred.
Avoiding his eyes, Jeril took a careful step back.
Now that her life was no longer in immediate danger, other problems began to surface—like why she’d run from him all the way here in the first place.
Should I treat him as Cal… or as Caron?
If she were honest, Jeril didn’t like Cal enough to risk changing the story’s fate.
So imagining his death shouldn’t hurt—but somehow, her chest ached faintly.
Why does it hurt?
Frowning at the strange sensation, Jeril stepped back again.
Watching her retreat, Caron’s expression slowly hardened.
