The dragon carriage finally stopped in front of the courtyard of Reinhard’s residence, just as the late afternoon sky turned a deep purple slowly replaced by the darkness of night.
Flam and Grassis stepped down first, opening the carriage door with perfectly trained movements, before bowing politely as the three passengers stepped out one by one.
“Finally here,” Felt muttered, stretching both arms as her feet touched the ground, her golden-yellow dress still fluttering slightly in the night wind.
“I want to change clothes as soon as possible. It feels like being wrapped in fabric all day.”
“I will ask the maid to prepare warm water for both of you,” Reinhard said, already walking ahead toward the front door, his voice as calm as usual even though the day they had been through was far from ordinary.
Merope nodded, but her pace was slower than her two companions, her eyes still gazing toward the gates of the residence, down the road stretching toward the center of the capital where the streetlamps were just beginning to light up one by one.
There was something nagging at her chest, not fear, but a kind of new realization that she couldn’t yet fully understand herself.
“Merope?” Felt turned around, realizing her friend was lagging a few steps behind.
“What’s wrong? Tired?”
“No,” Merope answered quickly, shaking her head with a small smile as she ran to catch up.
“Just… thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“About today,” she said softly.
“I’m really one of the candidates now. It still feels like a dream.”
Felt snorted with amusement, wrapping her arm around Merope’s shoulder casually as if it had become their habit.
“Well, just enjoy it. Besides, you already said it in front of everybody earlier, right? You can’t turn back now.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Merope chuckled, though behind her laugh lay a slight anxiety she couldn’t entirely hide.
“Oh right, Merope,” Reinhard said suddenly, gently placing his spoon on the edge of his plate, his tone turning a bit more serious than usual.
“I’ll be honest with you now—I will indeed help you in several matters, but I will still prioritize Felt-sama if it concerns this royal selection.”
The atmosphere at the dinner table instantly fell silent.
Felt, who had still been busy grumbling about her shoes, now froze, her eyes shifting quickly from Reinhard to Merope, as if she hadn’t expected those words to be spoken so casually in the middle of dinner.
Merope laid down her spoon as well, blinking once before finally smiling—not a forced smile, but something genuine, even though a trace of lingering surprise remained in her eyes.
“Yeah, I know,” she replied lightly.
“Reinhard is Felt’s knight, not mine. That’s totally natural.”
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t misunderstand,” Reinhard continued, his gaze locked straight onto Merope, earnest.
“I help you because I care about you as a friend, not because I’m siding with you in this selection. When the time comes that the two of you truly face each other, I will still stand by Felt-sama’s side.”
Felt, who had been watching in silence all this time, finally spoke up, her usual snappy tone sounding a bit softer than usual.
“Hey, you don’t have to bring this up right now, Reinhard. It just makes things awkward.”
“I think it’s better for her to hear it directly from me rather than realizing it later in the middle of a more difficult situation,” Reinhard replied, calm as ever.
Merope shook her head gently, still wearing the same smile.
“It’s fine, Felt. I’m actually glad Reinhard said it straight like this.” She turned her head back toward Reinhard.
“Besides, I never thought Reinhard would defend me if I were truly fighting Felt. You two have known each other longer and are closer. I’m just tagging along behind here anyway.”
“My help to you—sword training, etiquette, everything—is sincere, not just empty courtesy. I simply don’t want any lies between us about where my true loyalty lies.”
Merope fell silent for a moment, digesting those words, before finally nodding slowly.
“Thanks for being honest, Reinhard. Truly.” She smiled again, this time wider.
“Besides, even if I really have to fight Felt to become king later, I want to win because I actually deserve it, not because someone else’s knight secretly helped me.”
Felt snorted, but the corners of her lips pulled upward slightly, a mix of relief and amusement.
“You talk so knowingly about ‘deserving’ it. Watch out if you lose later, don’t cry.”
“No way!” Merope replied with a small laugh, and the tension that had gripped the room slowly melted back into the familiar warmth that usually filled their trio’s dinner table.
That night, after the dishes were cleared away and Felt had already vanished into her room to finally shed the dress that had restrained her all day, Merope sat for a moment in the quiet dining room, staring at her slowly steaming cup of tea.
Reinhard’s words hadn’t entirely made her sad—quite the opposite, a sort of new respect grew in her chest.
In a world full of hollow courtesies and smiles hiding ulterior motives, honesty as simple as that felt rare, something to be appreciated even if bitter.
She sighed softly, sipping her cooling tea, her thoughts drifting far to the coming days—days that, sooner or later, would force her to truly stand on her own, regardless of anyone who had supported her thus far.
Out there, far from that quiet residence, in a small tavern at the corner of the capital, two patrons whispered while sipping their drinks, discussing the sixth candidate newly introduced that day—and an old guest sitting alone in the corner of the room, face hidden under the hood of a dark cloak, suddenly stopped his hand’s movement upon hearing that name called out.
“Merope…” he muttered softly, barely audible, before his lips curved into a hard-to-read smile.
“So that’s how it is.”
…..
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