<CHAPTER 2>

But as always, the noble one stood tall and unmoved.

“What happened?”

His tone was as casual and light as ever.

“As you commanded, we tracked down the traitors, including that bastard Gray Rioja, and killed them all.”

Vermil gritted his teeth as he spoke of the traitors.

Yesterday, without any warning, the twenty-sixth assassination attempt on the Crown Prince had taken place.

The fortress burned, Solishar collapsed, and countless people died.

Because a comrade who had shared hardships betrayed them.

It had been a trap laid to root out traitors, but the damage was greater than expected.

“What about Princess Lillian?”

“She left immediately, but something felt off, so we had her followed.”

“Good work.”

In the northern lands where snow fell like blades, everything the Crown Prince had built—fighting foreign tribes, pirates, and monsters—was scattered.

And since Gray Rioja had been in charge of intelligence, the blow was even greater.

“How is your health?”

There was no one stronger than Solishar, yet he frequently suffered seizures and lost his reason.

“I’m fine. Is the fortress cleanup done?”

Even after suffering a severe episode just last night, Solishar smiled as if nothing had happened.

The loyal subordinate, who always moved silently despite his massive build, felt something hot surge inside him at the sight, but held it back.

“Yes. All documents have been burned, and the gates are sealed. Our people have been evacuated to a safe place. Officially, Your Highness is missing. Green is guarding the fortress now.”

“Do what you can, and if things go south, abandon everything and run.”

It was frustrating and unfair, but words that had to be remembered in this situation.

With security completely compromised, no one could be trusted.

Not inside the fortress, nor outside.

Even the culprits the barely conscious Crown Prince had pointed out vanished like smoke, as if mocking them.

“Your life matters more. That fortress means nothing.”

The Crown Prince, who had shed the most blood defending Sarom Fortress, said it lightly.

“If it’s lost, we can rebuild it. It’s far better than when I was first cast out.”

When he was driven from the capital to the north, he had been thirteen.

Now, he was twenty-six.

His once soft skin had hardened into calluses after being torn and healed countless times in the brutal cold.

Solishar held only a single longsword and smiled without a trace of fever.

At a glance, he looked like someone who had given everything up, but Vermil knew well what kind of man his lord was.

He was someone who could build a safe city from ashes and conquer even the raging winter sea.

“We left an opening on purpose to find the traitor, so we have to accept it. Besides, we have somewhere to go.”

His dark gaze turned toward the second floor of the inn they had left.

“W-who are you…?”

The guard, sensing something, instinctively spoke politely while remaining wary.

But the man didn’t even glance at him.

He tossed a wooden token casually and only looked at the woman in handcuffs.

She stared back blankly, her eyes filled with curiosity.

“W-where is old woman Dolores? The inspector is supposed to come in person…!”

The guard gathered his courage after checking the inspector’s badge, but the man simply rummaged through his coat and threw out crumpled documents.

“Do you need more?”

As the massive hand in a black glove hovered near the sword at his waist, the guard hurriedly shook his head.

“T-that’s enough! Here’s the key, take her!”

The man gestured to the woman.

“Let’s go.”

“Alright,” she thought, and sluggishly walked toward him.

The fierce wind rushed at the man, brushing past his sharp eyes.

He unlocked the cuffs on her wrists and tossed them aside carelessly.

Then, without warning, he lifted her up.

Too startled to even struggle, she was placed onto the black horse he had brought.

The horse was enormous, its mane gleaming.

“Don’t move, and don’t speak. You’ll bite your tongue.”

“Huh?”

“I said don’t speak.”

The man spoke bluntly, then mounted behind her and set off immediately.

They rode for a long time, until her body went numb and the sun began to set.

The ride was chaotic, and the wind stung her face.

By the time they stopped, she was too exhausted to even get down on her own.

The man carried her down again and entered a small but clean inn, getting a room.

He handed her washing supplies.

“Do you remember how to wash?”

She stared at him blankly and blinked.

When she didn’t answer, he seemed slightly flustered.

Or perhaps just annoyed.

“…This is soap. You wet it with water and make foam to use it.”

Only then did she recall how to wash.

Behind the ears had to be cleaned thoroughly, and the heels too.

But she couldn’t remember where she had learned it.

What does it mean to have your memory sealed?

She tilted her head, holding the bundle of washing tools.

“…There’s hot water, so wash.”

The man gave up trying to explain further and left, closing the door.

Stepping outside, he moved to the quiet back of the inn where no one was around.

“Your Highness.”

A black shadow emerged from the bushes and knelt on one knee respectfully.

The entire north revered him, and the whole nation bowed to him.

The man who had brought the prisoner here was Solishar, the self-proclaimed ruler of the north and Crown Prince of the Hellen Empire.

It was a miserable situation for the heir to the throne to hide his face and come this far.

“Does that woman really remember nothing? Could even that be a trap?”

In a situation like this, everything had to be doubted.

Vermil, determined to protect his lord at all costs, remained wary of everyone.

“I thought there weren’t any proper mages in the north, but it seems they handled the memory quite thoroughly.”

Or she was an exceptional actress who could even fool Solishar.

“What about the other two?”

Solishar had accurately pointed out the three mages who tried to assassinate him.

One was the memory-lost woman at the inn.

“My apologies. We tracked them, but aside from being told they were under investigation…”

The others had vanished.

Vermil lowered his head deeply, unable to continue.

“Figures.”

The only thing left to the Crown Prince was a blank-minded woman who barely seemed to know how to wash.

Memory sealing and record erasure were the harshest punishments for mages.

But attempted assassination of the Crown Prince warranted death.

Yet instead of proper investigation, an absurd verdict had been issued.

“The Sarotop magistrate was suddenly replaced yesterday.”

“Everyone was damn busy yesterday.”

Even though the fortress burned, Solishar had ruled the region for years.

Yet even loyal officials were easily replaced, and the legal system he built collapsed.

“Your Highness, even if she lost her memory, a mage is too dangerous to keep close.”

His seizures were caused by a curse created through magic.

There was no choice but to worry.

“They’re dangerous even from afar. A girl who doesn’t even know what soap is probably can’t cast a curse.”

“Pardon? That bad?”

Even Vermil was shocked.

…Your Highness has to carry around a half-wit in this situation?

“If I were going to discard her, I would’ve killed her. That’s easier. But instead, they rushed to seal her memory in just one day.”

Solishar smiled.

“Isn’t that too suspicious?”

Instead of sending the captured criminal to the capital, they sealed her memory.

Not execution, but a mage’s punishment.

It reeked of suspicion.

“Isn’t it an obvious trap?”

“Everything is a trap. So we might as well bite the biggest bait.”

He would drag down whoever set the bait with him into this hell.

The man who had survived like a demon grinned fiercely.

“Take care of the others. If things go bad, don’t be stubborn—cross the border immediately.”

“Understood. I’ll begin the business.”

It meant he would return to gathering information and money like before.

But Solishar never looked back.

The woman dipped her fingers into the water.

She didn’t like the temperature.

Couldn’t it be a little hotter… and more?

She frowned and dipped her fingers again.

“…Huh?”

Suddenly, a droplet of water rose above the basin.

Instead of falling, it floated in the air and began to swell.

Soon, a mass of water larger than the basin hovered above her head.

What is that? Why is it getting bigger? What do I do?

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Splash—water poured down loudly.

After a while, she wiped her face.

The floor was soaked, and steam filled the air.

She quickly checked the basin.

The water level hadn’t changed.

“What?”

She stared at her wet hands and stretched them toward the basin.

“Yah.”

Nothing happened.

“Ta-da.”

Still nothing.

“Move!”

Only ripples formed.

“R-rise?”

Still nothing.

As she waved her hands, a knock came from outside.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, she shrank back.

“What did you do?”

It was impossible to explain.

Especially when Momona had warned her that using magic meant execution.

“I’m coming in. Cover yourself if you need to.”

The door opened.

But there was nothing to cover.

She was already drenched.

Crouching and clinging to the basin, she stared at him with wide eyes.

Through the thick steam, he found the small woman and said nothing for a moments