Boram exited Arthur’s room and slowly made her way through the imperial palace corridors.
Every person she passed lit up at the sight of one of the fabled heroes. They bowed respectfully as they walked by, eyes brimming with awe and admiration.
The path was grand and meticulously maintained. She walked it as if it were natural, flanked by people who revered her as a hero.
And yet—why did her chest feel so barren, like scorched earth?
“…Hoo.”
She exhaled a small sigh.
Arthur had told her to “find Ketron,” but how was she supposed to easily track down someone she couldn’t even confirm was still in the Empire? By now, that man should know magic isn’t some almighty tool.
That man…
“….”
Boram pressed her fingertips against her forehead as if trying to quell a headache.
What exactly did she see in that utterly unimpressive man?
Why—why did it have to be him?
Feelings were a strange thing. She sighed again. By now, wasn’t it far too late to regret, too late to dwell on the past?
She had chosen to side with Arthur. She had betrayed Ketron.
Every so often, Boram would dream of Ketron. In those dreams, he wouldn’t speak a word of reproach, nor glare at her. He simply looked at her quietly, saying nothing.
And every time, that small shard of conscience she thought had long since vanished would prick at her until she woke drenched in cold sweat.
“No one knows, anyway.”
That’s what Arthur had said that day.
“As long as we keep quiet, no one will ever know.”
Then I can be the hero.
She hadn’t gone along without hesitation—but in the end, she betrayed Ketron for Arthur’s sake. She became his accomplice, willingly.
Another quiet sigh escaped her lips. Just then, she raised her head and spotted a glamorous woman approaching from the far end of the corridor.
Saintess Layla.
The woman who had once loved Ketron, now unknowingly devoted to someone else.
Or perhaps not so unknowingly. Layla may have agreed to an engagement with Arthur, but she didn’t stay close to him. There was something off, something unresolved.
“…”
“….”
Still, it wasn’t as if a woman standing beside her fiancé wouldn’t find it unpleasant to see another woman at his side.
Or… was she the one feeling unpleasant?
Boram scoffed at herself and bowed first. Even if she was hailed as a hero, the woman before her was the Saintess—God’s chosen representative. There was no gain in lifting her chin in defiance.
More than anything, Boram's conscience pricked too deeply for her to look Layla in the eye.
“You’re here, Dame Boram.”
Layla spoke first. Boram nodded obediently.
“Yes.”
“Is the Count inside?”
The unfamiliar title made Boram flinch for a moment, but she nodded and replied shortly after.
“Yes, he’s inside.”
The Count.
A title like that didn’t belong in the kind of love ballads bards used to sing about—those tales of a grand, star-crossed romance. They had always used more intimate terms: he, Arthur. But now, she called him Count—as if to emphasize the distance between them.
It was one of the side effects of trying to force Arthur into the gap left by the missing Ketron. And of all people, Layla had been the one who loved Ketron. Boram understood better than anyone.
“Dame Boram.”
Layla looked directly at her and spoke.
“The Count… hasn’t changed at all, has he?”
“….”
Boram caught her breath. Luckily, Layla didn’t seem to notice and continued speaking.
“It’s strange. Nothing’s changed, but somehow… it doesn’t feel like the man I used to know.”
“….”
“I tell myself it’s just time—that people change. Maybe this is a foolish thought.”
Boram didn’t respond. Layla took her silence for discomfort and was about to say not to mind her strange musings, when—
“There you are, Boram.”
A cheerful voice suddenly cut in between them. Boram turned.
A tall, broad-shouldered man was approaching. With his solid build, he could easily be mistaken for a knight, but the white clerical robes marked him as something else.
It was Augustine, the divine warrior—another of the heroes.
“Saintess, I didn’t expect to see you here as well.”
His tone was light, even playful—not what one might expect when addressing the Saintess. But Layla represented the divine, and Augustine was known as the weapon of the gods. As two of the divine’s chosen, his relaxed manner wasn’t entirely out of place.
Boram let out a subtle breath. Talking alone with Layla had begun to suffocate her.
“It’s been a while, Augustine.”
“Yeah, Boram. You’ve been hard to find lately.”
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”
As the two fell into natural conversation, Layla gave a polite nod.
“I’ll take my leave, then.”
Augustine gave her a teasing smile as she passed.
“Came to see Arthur, huh?”
“Yes.”
Her reply was sharp and unwavering. There was nothing shy or bashful about her tone. She sounded nothing like a young woman visiting her beloved.
Though he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, Augustine didn’t care much for romance. He shrugged it off and waved cheerfully as Layla passed by.
Once she had walked far enough away, he leaned in close to Boram and whispered conspiratorially.
“They’re in the honeymoon phase, huh?”
“….”
Boram didn’t respond. It wasn’t a comment worth acknowledging. Augustine watched her for a moment and tilted his head.
“Something wrong with you?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“You’ve seemed kinda down lately.”
She was quiet for a second, then replied smoothly enough.
“…Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Yeah, you’re not the type to get gloomy.”
He let out a soft laugh.
Boram didn’t want to continue the topic. She steered the conversation elsewhere.
“Where are you headed?”
“Me? The Emperor asked to see me. Figured I’d stop by and check in on Arthur while I’m at it.”
His carefree grin made it look like he had no worries in the world. And really, why should he?
They had defeated the Demon King. They were heroes. Only happiness should lie ahead—no reason to be troubled.
Augustine hadn’t been inside the Demon King’s castle during the final battle—he had held off the armies outside. Because of that, he received the Blessing of Forgetting. Like the others, he lost all memory of Ketron.
In truth, Augustine had never been the type to betray anyone. A servant of God, devoted and sincere—there was no way even silver-tongued Arthur could have coaxed him into treachery.
Boram’s betrayal had only been possible because she shared those memories with Ketron.
She took a slow breath and asked, keeping her voice even so he wouldn’t notice anything off.
“What does the Emperor want?”
“The nobles are making a fuss.”
“Because of Arthur?”
“No, because of Marquess Megin.”
Augustine answered easily.
Boram frowned. Marquess Megin—he had recently been assassinated. A prominent noble and one of the loudest voices opposing Arthur’s rise.
As a fellow noble daughter, Boram had exchanged greetings with his household before. She remembered the man clearly.
“Is the Emperor assigning you to investigate?”
“Something like that~”
He grinned, clearly unwilling to explain further.
Despite being a man of the cloth, Augustine was not particularly devout or serious—not in the way saints were usually depicted.
Though he had once been a party member, he had joined for Ketron’s sake. Now that Ketron was gone, Augustine seemed more and more detached from Arthur and Boram, spending less time with them and saying less with each visit.
Arthur dismissed it, saying the adventure was over, so who cared? But Boram had always kept her guard up. That growing distance—it was how cracks began to form.
There hadn’t been any real problems yet, but…
Just one more thing to worry about, Boram sighed softly.
“And now I’m off to do something really fun.”
His sudden comment made Boram raise a brow.
“Fun?”
“Yeah.”
Augustine grinned widely.
“There’s this inn in the central square that sells fun food. I’m gonna check it out.”
“Fun food? Isn’t it just food?”
“If it’s mind-blowingly spicy, it’s fun in a whole new way.”
Spicy food?
Her flicker of curiosity immediately faded.
“You wanna come with?”
Augustine asked lightly, but Boram could tell it was just a polite offer. She wouldn’t enjoy it. Spicy food wasn’t her thing, and she’d only feel uncomfortable.
She declined without hesitation.
“No thanks. I don’t like spicy things.”
“That so?”
He didn’t press. With an easygoing smile, he turned to leave.
“Well then, see you around.”
Without a hint of regret, Augustine walked away. Boram stood still for a moment, watching his back.
Then she turned around too.
She didn’t have time for this. There was still much to do.
And above all, the most urgent task was finding out where Ketron had gone.
Hoo… She sighed once more and hurried her steps.
Unaware that she had just passed up the most important opportunity that had come her way.