/
“Kael, wait!”
As Damia hurriedly called and followed him, Kael, striding across the palace garden, turned around. And his sharp gray eyes widened.
“Dami?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Damia, who succeeded in getting his attention, said, relieved,
“I want to tell you something.”
The reason she held onto Kael was not because of lingering or romantic attachments. Rather, it was because she had something she wanted to investigate.
“Can you give me a moment?”
Damia, trying to forget her last uncomfortable encounter with him, she asked kindly. A look of reluctance passed over Kael’s face.
“Well, I’m bit busy right now.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment. A once close childhood friend had grown unbelievably distant.
‘Is that why they say that friendships between a man and a woman are meaningless?’
Damia sighed inwardly, feeling the transience of human relations.
Fortunately, the time spent with Kael didn’t seem to have been wasted. Seeing a way to get his attention immediately came to mind.
“… … It’s about the saint.”
As if attracted by those words, Kael turned his head. When their eyes met, Damia realized that the bait she threw was effective.
“Well, just for a moment.”
“Thank you.”
Damia smiled, hiding her bitterness. It was fortunate that she had changed Kael’s mind, but she could clearly feel that the saint was a precious existence.
“Come this way.”
Kael held out his hand towards her. Despite the sense of distance, his touch was as soft as before.
It was natural. Before becoming a paladin, Kael was an ordinary noble master. And as a childhood friend, he had escorted Damia to numerous balls.
So, like how she felt inside, Kael’s mannerisms that gently led her hand, and Damia who followed him was as natural as flowing water. There didn’t seem to be a better well-matched pair.
So they didn’t know. The fact that there was a man watching the scene behind them, on the verge of going crazy.
“What do you have to say?”
As soon as they moved, Kael asked directly. He seemed to want to end the conversation as quickly as possible.
Damia pretended not to know this and smiled. And she complained lightly, as if she had returned to being a childhood friend.
“You’re in a hurry. How have you been? The seasons are changing, and you used to catch a cold around this time of the year.”
“… … .”
“Remember? Blueberries that your gardener grew, when we secretly went into the frost to pick them. I hid it well at best and they finally found out because you kept sneezing.”
“I don’t think it was my fault, was it?”
Kael’s face loosened as the old memories came out. In the first place, he wasn’t such a tough person.
“It wasn’t because I sneezed, it’s because your red hair is so conspicuous. Damia, did you think hiding in the bushes with that hair would work in the first place?”
Kael, who revealed his grin, finally laughed. Damia smiled more brightly when she saw that his firm boundaries had been somewhat broken.
“Oh, Kael. The letter you sent me last time. I managed to find it and finally read it.”
“Really? I thought it was lost.”
“It’s a good thing you found it even if it’s late,” said Kael, nodding his head. Damia asked with concern.
“According to the letter, it sounds like you have a very strict routine. Wake up like dawn, train, follow the teachings of the Bible. Isn’t it hard?”
“It’s something I was prepared for when I already decided to become a paladin. Rather, every day is worthwhile and rewarding so I am happy.”
Kael didn’t really doubt her intentions. He just thought that Damia cared for him, as always.
Not surprisingly, Damia had a crush on him for a long time. So, to Kael, her favor was very natural.
This delusion was no less than a chronic disease of men. They didn’t know that the favor they received was “temporary” only loaned out when a woman liked them.
However, the moment their unrequited love ends, the goodwill they enjoyed all along disappears like a bubble. Just like now.
“You said your evening routine was atonement and prayer, right?”
“Yes, it’s a god-facing devotional ritual in which you isolate and pray alone.”
Kael answered with a proud face. Finally, the flow of the conversation came closer to what Damia intended.
At this point, she had to be more careful. Damia asked in a very natural way, as if passing by.
“But this isn’t the Great Hall, it’s the Royal Palace. Are you still praying?”
At Damia’s question looking as usual, Kael nodded in agreement with her involuntarily.
“Of course.”
“Every evening?”
“I said it before,”
Damia lowered her eyes silently. She could see Kael’s left fingers twitch, as usual when he told a lie.
And the half-hardened mud all over the soles of his boots.
‘Found him. The culprit who saved Cesare.’