Chapter 22
Sharon always avoided the public square where executions were held, even if it meant taking a much longer route.
“Just thinking about how many people have died there gives me chills.”
That was understandable. Meadow reassured her with a gentle smile and said it was fine. He didn’t mind taking the long way around with her.
“I like it better this way — I get to spend more time with you.”
Sharon was grateful for Meadow’s kindness.
But there had been a day when Sharon went to the square on her own — the day the lord was executed.
She had a close connection with the woman who had stood on that scaffold.
“I’m sorry for always being a burden.”
The woman, who had become too ill to work, always apologized whenever Sharon gave her free pies.
But Sharon told her not to. When Sharon had lost her parents to illness, that same woman had helped her countless times.
“How did you know I wanted meat pie, miss?”
Her young son opened the box and looked surprised. They were too poor to ask for anything extra, yet somehow Sharon had known exactly what he wanted.
Sharon leaned in and whispered softly, so his mother wouldn’t hear.
“Next time, don’t hesitate. Just tell me quietly, okay?”
The boy glanced at his mother and shyly nodded.
But Sharon never saw the mother and son again.
They had been taken away for failing to pay taxes.
That day, Sharon went to the square. The lord was shouting at the boy, ordering him to execute his own mother.
“Why is no one helping them?”
At first, she was furious that no one stepped forward.
But then she realized — she was no different.
That month alone, twenty executions had taken place. And though she knew it, she had avoided the square because she “couldn’t bear to watch.”
She had turned her back on so many unjust deaths, and now she dared to be angry that others didn’t act.
Sharon called herself shameless and cowardly in her heart.
“My lord!”
And then, in that frozen moment, chaos broke out.
The boy and the lord struggled, and the lord fell dead.
“Seize him! Now!”
A knight raised his sword toward the boy — the same boy who had once been too afraid to even ask for a meat pie.
Without realizing it, Sharon bent down, grabbed a stone at her feet, and hurled it.
“When Fred returns to Rondar, I’ll be executed for inciting the people.”
She could already feel it. And she knew — Meadow would be the one tasked with carrying it out.
“Then you just have to make sure no one finds out it was you.”
It had been a chaotic, frenzied scene — how could anyone have figured it out clearly?
Barbery told her not to worry, but Sharon sighed softly.
“There’s a witness. Someone Your Majesty once met — the person I said doesn’t charge me for food…”
Barbery paused, then recalled a man with a sharply pointed beard.
So that’s what she meant by “I owed him.” It wasn’t kindness — it was blackmail.
Barbery clicked her tongue and leaned back, only for her head to bump into something. Kur had quietly come closer to listen.
“Well, as long as he’s being bribed with pies, it should be fine, no?”
Barbery turned to Kur for agreement, but Kur shook his head coldly.
“Only you would think bribing someone with a pie and giving him a title makes sense.”
That sounded suspiciously like an insult.
Barbery looked up, glaring at Kur, but Kur ignored her and turned to Sharon.
“Does this ‘pie thief’ know about your relationship with Meadow?”
Sharon nodded, her face heavy. She understood why he asked.
“He’ll probably use me to threaten Meadow.”
If Rob became lord, he’d want Meadow dead — and Sharon’s crime would make a perfect excuse.
If Fred became lord instead, the man could use Sharon’s guilt to manipulate Meadow, who served at Fred’s side.
Sharon’s shoulders slumped.
“Meadow said he’s finally found a master he can serve with his whole heart.”
She couldn’t stand the thought of that man being dragged down because of her.
The only option was to leave with Barbery.
But even that — even wanting to survive — felt disgustingly selfish to her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for being this selfish.”
Barbery looked at Sharon’s pleading face and chuckled softly.
“You have some pretty strict standards.”
What had she done that was so terrible?
Barbery proudly thumped her chest with her thumb.
The grin on her face looked almost villainous.
“Compared to me, you’re an angel. I’m far more selfish.”
“How admirable of you, Your Majesty,” Kur muttered dryly.
But Barbery wasn’t bothered. She arched an eyebrow, amused, as if taking it as a compliment.
“Still,” Sharon said quietly, “I didn’t swear loyalty to Your Majesty out of pure intentions.”
She knew what she’d done.
She knew one day it would all come to light, and she’d meet a miserable end.
If she was going to die anyway — what did treason matter?
And who knew? Maybe she’d survive if they succeeded.
“I’m not a good person.”
Sharon felt trapped in her own dilemma.
She knew if she kept speaking like this, she’d be cast aside.
But once she’d started telling the truth to Barbery, she couldn’t stop.
She just wanted to get it all out — to be forgiven somehow.
“Please don’t abandon me. If Your Majesty leaves me, I have no one else.”
“Sharon.”
Barbery’s voice was calm and low — steadier than usual — and that frightened Sharon even more.
“You said you’d protect me! You said you wouldn’t let me die!”
Sharon shouted, panic rising — then startled herself with her own voice, and burst into tears.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled… I’m sorry, Your Majesty…”
Only then did Barbery realize — Sharon looked fine, but she was drunk.
“I won’t abandon you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Truly? You promise?”
“I do.”
“Thank goodness…”
Relieved, Sharon sniffled once more, then slumped forward onto the table.
Moments later, soft snoring filled the air.
“What an annoying drunk,” Barbery muttered — though she didn’t sound particularly upset.
“You heard her, right? She said she can’t live without me.”
Barbery smirked, twisting Sharon’s words to her liking.
Kur pointed out that wasn’t what Sharon had said, but Barbery ignored him.
The next morning, Sharon groaned, holding her aching head.
“Hangover?” Barbery asked, eating boiled beans. Sharon had been too sick to bake pies, so Barbery had cooked for herself.
“I must’ve lost my mind. I get drunk after one glass, and I finished the whole bottle…”
She despised the reckless woman she’d been last night.
Barbery gave her a suspicious look.
“You remember what we talked about?”
Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to repeat everything.
Judging by her hangover, maybe she’d forgotten.
“Yes. I remember everything.”
“Even crying and begging me not to leave you?”
Sharon couldn’t answer — but her flushed face said it all.
“And you’re sure you won’t regret leaving that man behind?”
Kur, frowning, glared at his bowl of beans like it had wronged him.
“No. I’ve made up my mind.”
She looked calm, though the hangover made her seem even more sorrowful.
The three decided to leave Rondar as soon as possible.
A few days later, they had packed everything and were ready to go.
“There’s something I forgot. May I quickly fetch it?”
Sharon spoke hesitantly as they were about to depart, adding in a small voice that she’d give up if it was a bother.
Barbery told her to go, so she hurried off.
A few minutes later, Kur sniffed the air, sensing something. At the same moment, Meadow opened the shop door.
“You’re leaving?”
He glanced at the packed bags and smiled, saying they’d made the right decision.
“Is Sharon inside?”
“Didn’t you meet her on the way here?”
When he heard she had just stepped out, Meadow hesitated — then sat down, deliberately choosing the seat farthest from them.
“If I leave now, we might miss each other,” he said, as if making an excuse.
He fidgeted with something in his hands, glancing at the door.
“A ring,” Kur muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Barbery suddenly realized — Meadow had come to propose.
Clearly, Sharon hadn’t told him anything yet.
“What do we do now? Poor guy doesn’t even know he’s already been dumped,” Barbery whispered.
Meadow couldn’t sit still, pacing around anxiously — until he noticed an envelope on the table.
[To Meadow]
It was Sharon’s handwriting. Curious, he opened it.
“Did she know I’d come and write this ahead of time?”
For a moment, he smiled, thinking they were in sync.
But as he read on, his face darkened.
It was a farewell letter — apologizing for not saying goodbye in person.
Meadow dropped the letter and lunged toward Barbery, but before he could reach her, Kur grabbed his head and slammed it into the table.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Kur asked calmly.
“That’s my question! I told you not to drag her into your dangerous royal games!”
Barbery sighed, forming a blade with her fingers, and flicked his head.
“Watch your tone. How dare a mere mercenary speak to a king that way?”
Meadow tried to fight back, but Kur held him down effortlessly.
They were of similar build, but Kur’s strength was monstrous.
“I’m a knight of Lord Fred of Rondar!”
“And you’re too stupid to realize you’ve been dumped. Congratulations, Sir Knight.”
“What?!”
Before he could demand an explanation, the door burst open — his subordinate, Sabo, rushed in.
“Captain!”
He froze at the sight of Kur holding Meadow down. When he reached for his sword, Barbery stopped him.
“Put that away. Unless you want it snapped in half.”
Barbery motioned for Kur to release Meadow. Kur let go, tossing him aside like dust.
Meadow staggered to his feet, enraged and ready to charge again — but Sabo grabbed him.
“Now’s not the time to fight! The enemy’s surrounding the place!”
At the word enemy, Meadow froze. One name immediately came to mind — Rob.
“So he came back before the lord did. Persistent bastard.”
Meadow clicked his tongue, but Sabo shook his head.
“Rob’s here, yes — but he’s not alone. It’s an alliance. I saw the royal banner myself!”
“The king sided with Rob? But Lord Fred—”
Meadow pressed a hand to his forehead, confused.
Fred had written that the king, Glog, had approved his succession as lord of Rondar.
“Something’s wrong…”
“Captain…”
“Did the king deceive him? Otherwise, an alliance makes no sense.”
Sabo spoke clearly, his voice shaking.
“I saw the Kaidel banner among them. We’ve been betrayed.”
His despairing words echoed in Meadow’s ears like a curse.
