PSW 10

Chapter 10

It happened before she could even scream.

As she stumbled, someone firmly grabbed Ren’s hand.

It was a large, warm hand, calloused in places, with scars and old wounds.

Golden eyes, cold and indifferent, turned toward Ren. He gently lifted her as if it were nothing at all.

Ren’s heart raced. She was too startled to calm down quickly.

Following Rix’s slow escort, she descended the stairs. The moment Ren’s feet touched the ground, Rix casually withdrew his hand as if nothing had happened.

Fernandes immediately approached, flustered. In that brief moment, he probably asked if she was okay a dozen times.

At that moment, Mabel, wearing a uniform similar to Rix’s but slightly more modest, came forward and spoke to him.

“Your Highness, the Marquess of Mapla has arrived.”

“Already?”

“Yes. He is unpacking at his mansion in the capital now.”

Rix glanced at Ren. His gaze landed on the hem of her dress, slightly dirtied from riding Kiss.

“We might need to get her a new dress.”

Scarlet muttered beside them, looking troubled.

“All the shops would be closed by now.”

Looking up, Ren saw the two moons faintly shining. When had so much time passed? She had arrived when the sun was still high.

Rix nodded and said to Scarlet,

“Then have her wear one of my mother’s dresses. The shoes fit before, so the dress should roughly fit as well.”

Ren’s ears burned at the memory. The shoes he had provided… she hadn’t returned them yet and they were still in her room.

Scarlet, nodding to the order of her master, turned to Ren.

“I will assist you.”

Tina and Pani followed closely behind Ren. When she glanced back, Rix was quietly speaking to Mabel, expressionless as always.

When their palms touched earlier, she had felt all of his many scars. Ren clenched her fists tightly.

The long, flowing blue dress fit for a fairy tale princess made Ren move stiffly, almost like a wooden doll.

Even compared to the long silver dress she had worn before, it was harder to lift her feet.

On top of that, Pani’s masterful hairstyling earned applause from everyone. Her hair was tightly braided, adorned with blue flowers resembling Ren’s eyes.

From shoes to hairpins, everything belonged to Rix’s mother.

The miraculous part was that everything fit Ren perfectly.

There was no excuse to say it didn’t suit her.

On top of that, everyone fussed over how well it fit, clapping their hands. Even Stellama, who rarely showed expression, gave a faint smile.

Ren sighed and slowly descended the stairs. Fortunately, the dress wasn’t longer than her height, so she didn’t risk tripping—a small mercy for a doll-like gown.

At the bottom, voices came from ahead.

“How about the Tinerk Marquis side?”

“They’re still more favorable toward the First Prince than us. But they haven’t fully switched sides yet, so with a little more effort—”

Mabel’s voice trailed off. He turned to look at Ren, and naturally, Rix followed his gaze.

Ren met his golden eyes in midair.

While she had been changing, he too had changed into attire suitable for a noble dinner guest rather than a uniform.

The navy tailcoat hugged his broad shoulders down to his waist, highlighting his inverted-triangle frame. A luxurious silk cravat softened the intensity of his red hair.

Red hair with blue-toned clothing might seem mismatched, but he wore it effortlessly, like night embracing a red sun.

For a moment, neither spoke. No one dared break the silence.

Rix smirked playfully and slowly approached Ren.

With every step, the crisp sound of his shoes echoed through the hall.

Soon, he was in front of her, extending a hand as if performing a gentle waltz.

What should she do?

Flustered, Ren hesitated, but followed his gaze toward her hand. She awkwardly raised it. His hand flowed over hers like a wave, then Rix bent slightly and pressed his lips to the back of her hand.

The moment felt eternal.

He took her hand lightly, like a butterfly, and guided her. Ren felt spellbound, like she could do nothing even if he led her to the edge of a cliff as a phantom.

Before the enormous door, waiting like a Cinderella carriage, was a grand carriage. Two black horses the size of Kiss were stationed in front of it.

The sun-piercing sword emblem on the door represented the empire and the goddess Fiora. This combined symbol could only be used by direct imperial lineage.

Only then did Ren realize Rix was truly the owner of this emblem.

Mabel opened the carriage door. Inside was a luxurious black chair, soft and inviting.

Ren followed Rix’s escort as they climbed the steps.

Once their hands parted, she felt oddly lonely and instinctively leaned toward the window to look outside.

Rix mounted, and the door closed behind him.

“Not riding the horse?”

“You took Kiss, so no choice.”

“I saw there were other horses in the stables. Aren’t there other famed horses?”

“Did Mabel even mention that?”

Rix smirked.

“But after being tamed by Kiss, I can’t ride the others well at all.”

“That’s unfortunate. Kiss is already tamed by me. He’ll like me more than you, Prince.”

“Really? Want to bet?”

“You bet on that? Are you crazy?”

Ren asked incredulously.

“I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Rix shrugged casually.

“And if it’s a bet, I was going to ask for Kiss back as my prize.”

Ren couldn’t believe it. Kiss? The same horse she had been fussing about…

“Don’t even dream about it. Kiss isn’t up for grabs.”

She looked out the window. Still, his teasing had eased some of her tension.

Outside, the silver moons leaned in half-moon shapes. When she first arrived, the full moon had shone brightly. Time had passed so quickly.

But even moonlight was dimmer than neon-filled Seoul nights. By 4 or 5 a.m., it was pitch dark. For someone used to 24-hour brightness, it felt too early.

Ren fiddled nervously with the unfamiliar dress and stole a glance at Rix.

He had closed his eyes, leaning slightly, posture impeccable, like a noble trained in etiquette.

Ren opened and closed her mouth. She didn’t want to wake him. When she turned back to the window, a slightly husky voice spoke.

“Curious about something?”

Her heart skipped a beat. She felt like a child caught peeking at something forbidden. She feigned indifference and looked at him.

“Uh… nothing.”

“You were staring quite intently.”

“How did you know?”

“You can sense it.”

Rix smiled slyly. Every time he did, Ren felt exasperated. Relaxing slightly, she seized a curiosity floating in her mind.

“What is your relationship with the Marquess of Mapla?”

Rix narrowed his eyes, staring at her.

“I think he knows better than I do.”

Ren remembered the chaos of shouting “Victor” earlier. She cleared her throat and muttered a timid voice.

“Well… I’ve only heard the name.”

She nearly blurted something inappropriate. Rix adjusted his chin thoughtfully, observing her evasive gaze.

“Where did you live?”

“Is this the start of your questioning?”

Rix studied her intently for a moment. Ren didn’t avoid his gaze, and he slowly nodded.

“Yes.”

Great. This is going to be troublesome on the way.

Ren massaged her throbbing temples.

“A remote place. Almost no one from there sends news.”

“West Mountains? Or Lake Tarkana to the east?”

Persistent questions. Lake Tarkana seemed more plausible.

She had learned something during her days in this area: in the empire, “beyond Lake Tarkana” meant an uncharted land, where magic appeared.

Things that never existed before suddenly appeared beyond the lake, including guns. The concept of guns was foreign here; swords had been the primary weapons. Only after guns came from beyond the lake did nobles start reproducing them.

Additionally, the goddess Fiora’s birthplace was said to be beyond Lake Tarkana.

Ren confirmed through Fernandes, who could read, that it was an entirely different world.

“Lake Tarkana.”

“If you lie, I’ll execute you for deceiving the royal family.”

“Go ahead. You can kill the saint if you wish.”

Ren spoke boldly, and Rix laughed incredulously. Then he asked another question.

“Family?”

That was easy to answer. She just told the truth.

“I have none.”

“How did you get from Lake Tarkana here?”

“Sorry, I don’t remember.”

“If you answer like that, I’ll have nothing to ask.”