Chapter 78.
Tadak—the sound of feet pounding against the dirt floor rang out.
It had long since grown dark. The lanterns carried by the night watch glowed faintly in the gloom.
“I’m late, I’m late!”
She had been so absorbed in her work, thinking it would only take a little longer to finish, that by the time she looked up, it had already been pitch-black outside for a while.
Even though her colleagues urged her to just stay overnight at the workshop, Avery chose to return home.
After all, when it came to rest, home was always more comfortable, and lately, the workshop owner’s gaze toward her hadn’t felt very pleasant. She doubted it meant anything, but there was no harm in being cautious.
It was far too late to catch a carriage, so Avery began walking along the main road.
Though the surroundings were dark, she knew the path so well she could walk it with her eyes closed.
Or so she thought.
It was only a moment ago that she realized someone was following her.
At first, she wondered if they were simply headed in the same direction. But after passing several crossroads and finding them still behind her, she knew this wasn’t a coincidence.
How long have they been following me? Since I left the workshop?
Trying to act nonchalant, Avery suddenly slipped into a side alley. Then she broke into a full sprint.
“Huff, huff—”
Tadadak!
She had hoped she was wrong, but the instant she started running, heavy footsteps thundered behind her. No shouts, no threats—somehow that silence was even more terrifying.
Three? Four sets of footsteps?
If they caught her, it was over.
Sensing this instinctively, Avery pushed herself with every ounce of strength she had left and rounded a corner.
“Ah!”
Something was lying in the street. Her foot caught on it, and she crashed to the ground with a loud thud. Pain shot through her knee.
The sound of footsteps closed in, strangling her with dread. Avery scrambled back to her feet. Blood trickled down her scraped knee, but she had no time to care.
It felt as if a hand might seize her at any moment.
Then—she saw it. The fence of her home on the outskirts. Relief nearly buckled her legs. A light shone in the window, her family still awake and waiting for her. Several shadows moved past the lit pane.
Clenching her teeth, Avery leapt through the gate, slammed the door shut, and slid down against it, panting. As she struggled to steady her breath, her younger brother opened the inner door, eyes wide at the sight of her.
“Sis, what happened? Are you hurt?!”
The lamplight revealed dirt smeared all over her clothes and blood dripping from her knee. Wiping the cold sweat from her brow, Avery finally noticed her palms were badly scraped as well. After calming her breath, she answered softly:
“…It’s nothing.”
“Excuse me, could I have a glass of water?”
The moment Jasmine returned to the banquet hall, she managed to flag down a passing servant. The servant promised to return shortly and disappeared with his tray.
She considered ordering a drink for Cordelia as well, but since she had no idea what the lady preferred, she decided not to risk it. Cordelia wasn’t nearly as prickly as she appeared, but status and demeanor still made her a difficult person to approach casually.
Standing back near the entrance, Jasmine surveyed the hall with half-lidded eyes. The event was neither quite a masquerade nor entirely something else—a party as lacking in identity as its host. To someone like Jasmine, accustomed to order and etiquette, it was an exhausting affair.
If not for her father’s connections, she wouldn’t have come. Since the gathering was hosted by a prominent merchant known throughout the kingdom, declining repeatedly would have been poor form.
“Oh my, isn’t this Miss Jasmine?”
The unfamiliar yet not entirely strange voice called out to her. Jasmine quickly smoothed her expression and turned.
Baron Horel and Count Eshilon were walking toward her from the corridor, each holding a glass. Horel grinned, showing his teeth.
“I never thought I’d see you here.”
“Nor I. And what brings you two gentlemen?”
“Well, I am always hoping for a fateful encounter with a beautiful lady.”
Horel lightly kissed the back of Jasmine’s hand. His curly hair and easy smile made him seem charming enough.
“Stop being frivolous.”
Count Eshilon scolded him with a sour face. Thinking as ever that he was too uptight, Jasmine tucked her bouquet under her arm and accepted a glass from the returning servant.
“Are you here alone?”
Horel asked with quick intuition. Jasmine replied coolly:
“And you two?”
“Well, we… Ah, about earlier at the gathering—I apologize if we offended.”
His green eyes gleamed as he offered the apology. Jasmine felt a flicker of unease.
“If you don’t already have plans, perhaps—”
“Thank you, but I have business.”
It seemed he was indeed part of that group. Jasmine cut him off firmly. Though Horel tried to persuade her a few more times, she rejected every offer without hesitation.
“Now if you’ll excuse me. Enjoy the party.”
With her glass in hand, Jasmine turned toward the main doors. Just then, a group she recognized from the garden poured in behind a man striding quickly inside. She gave them a polite nod and slipped past.
“…Miss! My lady!”
“Ugh…”
So noisy. My head’s pounding…
“My lady, wake up! Can you hear me?”
She just wanted to sleep, but someone was shouting right beside her. Annoyance flared, but strangely her lips wouldn’t move. Her body felt heavy, as if stuffed into a box.
Blinking sluggishly, her blurry vision cleared. A man in a black hat and mask, covering half his face, was holding her. Cordelia murmured faintly:
“You are…?”
“Well now, looks like you aren’t too badly hurt after all. You’ve got a bit of a bump here, but…”
The man removed his mask, revealing sharp features and a rugged face. Watching her dazed expression, Tirein clicked his tongue.
“Should I take you to a physician?”
“No, no—I’m fine.”
As her scattered mind returned, she realized her whole body ached as if beaten, and nausea rolled in waves. A sharp pain throbbed at her left temple.
“Urgh!”
She clutched her head, gagging. Tirein quickly supported her and handed over the wooden flask at his belt. A few gulps of water eased her stomach somewhat.
Still, her body felt drained of all strength. She flexed her fingers weakly, over and over, while Tirein leaned close and whispered:
“Don’t you remember? You just fell from the top of those stairs.”
“What? I fell from there?”
Cordelia craned her neck to see the distant staircase. Its steep incline made it hard to believe she had survived with so few injuries.
“Wait—if I fell from there, why am I here?”
They were crouched in a thicket behind the carriage grounds. A good spot for watching without being easily seen from outside.
“My men carried you. At first they thought you were dead, but since you weren’t badly injured, I stayed to watch over you. Maybe you landed on the grass? It looked like you’d be done for otherwise.”
“…No, I think it was magic. My body just changed again.”
“Huh?”
Feeling the bump on her head, she loosened her hairpins to let her bangs fall forward, covering it.
“That tumble must’ve happened when I was in Noah’s body, not mine. Rines said if our lives were in danger, the spell might break.”
As soon as Tirein shot to his feet, Cordelia grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back down. Meeting his eyes, she whispered:
“He’s not dead. What worries me is where Noah’s body collapsed.”
“Where?”
“The Grand Temple.”
“What?!”
“I was looking for Rines when it happened. Anyway—how do you know Benjamin Sandria?”
“Oh, we collaborated once. Wait—you were with that man?”
“Yeah. And you—why on earth are you here?”
Cordelia tightened her grip on his clothes, silently promising not to release him until he answered. Sighing, Tirein cast a glance back up the stairs.
“Drink more water first. I’ll explain after.”
“Mm…”
A faint groan escaped Noah’s lips. His eyelids slowly opened. His body was swaddled in blankets up to the neck, the soft bedding pressing against his weak frame—a sensation all too familiar.
What startled him was the face hovering above.
“Lord Benjamin?” Noah muttered before realizing. Impossible. Wasn’t that man supposed to be in the Grand Temple?
“You’ve regained consciousness?”
Benjamin’s expression, uncharacteristically serious, made Noah wonder if he was dreaming. But then he startled and sat up, clutching the blanket to his chest. The way he blinked, shy and flustered, reminded Benjamin of a timid animal, and he chuckled softly.
“Thank goodness. You worried me, collapsing so suddenly like that.”
“I’m sorry.”
Even in confusion, Noah apologized, racking his still-groggy mind.
If he could see Benjamin’s face, then surely this was the Grand Temple. Looking around, however, the plain white room was devoid of features. Not even a window—strangely eerie.
“I brought you somewhere discreet, away from prying eyes. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to keep the healers from fussing over you.”
Benjamin shook his head with a weary sigh. Noah smiled faintly in gratitude, about to speak, but Benjamin’s sharp gaze cut him off.
“Listen—I really didn’t want to meddle.”
Dragging his hands down his face, Benjamin looked utterly drained. Confused, Noah froze as his next words fell like a hammer:
“Your back. What do you intend to do about it?”
