In the dawn light filtering into the room, my Esdel removed her mask.

There, like a morning star her name signified, was a light shining brightly.

‘Thank you, sacred sword.’

Below the mask was a face identical to the one above it, pale and clear.

The once reddened eyes inside the mask had returned to a hue like the sky captured within them.

Do you know, Esdel, that your eyes are more beautiful than the dawn sky outside the window?

Sion struggled to suppress his heartbeat, fearing she might hear it.

Then, he felt a sad intuition.

He had recognized her face.

His northern eyes seemed to speak.

‘Sion, perhaps your intuition might be right.’

Long ago, he had seen a five-year-old princess from afar.

Jealous of her parents’ praises of her beauty and cuteness, he had glanced at her resentfully.

Returning to the mansion, he had remained sullen until Hans showed concern.

She was a small, beautiful girl with silver hair, but more vivid in his memory were her eyes, clear as the sky.

‘You might be… the princess I know.’

A mix of immense joy and sorrow overwhelmed Sion.

He tried to smile, but couldn’t manage.

In the end, his face looked like he was crying while smiling.

Question marks seemed to appear on her face.

‘Esdel, if I ask you now if you are the princess, what would you say?’

Sion was afraid.

‘If she is, I must let her go. An imperial princess is a being a northern duke cannot possess.’

The white butterfly became Esdel. And if Esdel is now a princess…

The pain in his heart was incomparable to the ache in his shoulder.

‘Ask, Sion Bellfast. You have to.’

Yet, he couldn’t ask.

He just gazed at Esdel standing before him, her face tense.

Does she know?

Even now, he wanted to reach out and pull her onto the bed, to embrace her with all his might, to kiss every inch of her body and confirm his desire.

“Your Grace?”

Esdel’s voice trembled as she called him. Her voice was gentle, clear, and transparent, awakening Sion.

‘I won’t ask. I hope my intuition is wrong. I hope she’s not the princess, Esdel.’

Sion wanted to curse himself.

‘She can’t be a princess. Right. Rahert would never have spared her if she were. Her previous life, having killed so many… it’s impossible.’

Sion pushed away his thoughts, wishing to lock this intuition away in a box and throw it into eternal oblivion.

‘God of Bellfast.’

Guilt swirled in his heart.

I hope, God, that this woman before me is not the princess.

I want to keep her by my side, unnoticed, just for a moment, this silver butterfly.

It’s fortunate I didn’t kiss her lips.

My heart, without brakes, might really have been unable to stop.

Sion spoke.

“It’s truly fortunate. You’ve found your true self.”

“Thanks to Your Grace.”

A long silence ensued.

Sion broke it.

“The kiss on your forehead earlier was a sign of respect. A tribute to the world-known Sword Master.”

“……Yes.”

Esdel lowered her head.

Sion thought to himself,

‘What a despicable man.’

Esdel, having put on her mask again, said in a nonchalant tone,

“Your Grace, I’ll call the doctor.”

“Yes. Wait, before that.”

Esdel, about to leave, stopped and looked at him.

Sion forcefully suppressed his desire to hold her back.

“Call Arcadia for me, Knight Esdel.”

Knight…

The Duke had called me a knight.

A knight, a position from which I could assist him by his side.
Close to realizing my dream in this life of guarding you from close by, these words should sound sweet. But why?

Why does my heart ache?

I turned towards him. His gaze was as intense as before.

As a knight, what should I say to Your Grace now?

“Your Grace. It may be a premature report but…”

Right, it might be too soon to predict. But it’s better to speak up quickly.

It could be related to the safety of the North.

“I think the arrow that hit me was poisoned.”

“I thought it wasn’t an ordinary arrow.”

His voice cracked as he responded.

Of course, he’s still unwell. I shouldn’t have…

“Your Grace, you should rest. I’ll take my leave.”

“No. Speak. You wouldn’t say anything unimportant.”

……Trust.

Thankfully.

Yes, this will do, Esdel.

A corner of my heart warmed.

“Your Grace. Long ago, I experienced a poison similar to this one. Fortunately, I survived but…”

It’s a lie.

I had died. I knew it the moment I was hit by the arrow.

‘It’s Medeia’s poison.’

From my previous life, the poison Medeia used before stabbing me with the dagger Lucella.

Even a slight prick on my cheek from the poisoned dagger’s tip had paralyzed my body, leaving me defenseless.

The reason I, even as a Sword Master, was doomed to die.

The feeling was rougher this time, but it was undoubtedly the same poison.

The sensation of crossing from life to death is unforgettable.

“It was the poison used by Lady Medeia. I knew it when I was hit by the arrow.”

“Medeia!”

“It might not be, but it’s likely.”

I looked up at the Duke.

“She knows I betrayed her.”

“……The Red Caterpillar has escaped, Esdel.”

“Yes.”