Olivia’s face turned increasingly pale amidst all her rushing thoughts.

Before long, he, whose laughter had subsided, shook his head at Olivia.

“Why are you making such an unpleasant expression?”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh. Well, I’ve seen it before, but this is the first time you’ve laughed so loudly. You didn’t hurt your head, did you?”

At her genuinely worried look, Cryer laughed again, this time quietly.

“I don’t go around getting hit.”

Cryer, who had echoed exactly what Olivia had been thinking, shrugged his shoulders and continued.

“For now, as far as I remember, it’s the first time I’ve laughed out loud. But anyway.”

“No, it’s not ‘anyway’! You laughed out loud, so what could be ‘anyway’ in comparison to that!”

In response to Olivia’s protest, Cryer answered without missing a beat.

“Greta has purified the wizard.”

“Huh? Purification? If it’s purification… Ah…”

Upon remembering that the ‘purification’ they were talking about meant killing all humans on the continent, Olivia swallowed a groan.

So the wizard was killed by his own daughter, wasn’t he?

While there was no trace of sympathy, it was a vile situation…

“Huh? If the wizard died, is there any change in the stigma?”

Unknowingly, Olivia was staring at the area around Cryer’s collarbone.

And at that moment.

Despite the severe pain that arose from the place where the stigma was, Cryer answered without batting an eye.

“Nothing at all.”

Olivia simply stared blankly at Cryer in response.

She neither approached him nor retreated from him.

Because she didn’t know what to say, or what to do.

Even though she had been killed by him four times and still came back, the second most bitter thing was his despair and pain, but she couldn’t fully sympathize with that.

Although she didn’t have to sympathize to comfort him, for some reason, she couldn’t even give him that comfort…

For a while, silence descended between the two.

Then, suddenly, Olivia gently tugged at the hem of his sleeve.

His mouth fell open for a moment at her awkward yet strangely natural touch.

A trivial gesture that was ridiculous to assign meaning to.

A power too inadequate to get him back on his feet.

And the small voice that whispered something else, hardly audible.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Nothing was dramatic.

Rather, it could be said that it was the everyday life sent from the empire when she met Olivia.

And yet, that insignificant, fleeting moment…

Lifted Cryer, who was stuck in the deep swamp, unable to escape, comforted him, pulled him up.

He closed his eyes deep, then opened them, answering evenly.

“Shall we go eat something?”

The first day of the state funeral passed without any gains other than the fact that the wizard was dead.

While the solemn funeral was in progress, Olivia, standing at the very front row, was wringing her wrist.

Last night. The two who had sneaked out of the room to fill their stomachs soon arrived in the kitchen.

It would have been easy to call a servant, but they chose not to because they didn’t want to call the servants who had those dead fish eyes.

‘Hmm, there’s no prepared food after all.’

Olivia, who had been lingering in the kitchen, saw the bread and cheese shaking in Cryer’s hand and smiled broadly.

She felt like she had to say something, so she said anything, but from the moment she left the room with him, she was really hungry.

As she bit into the bread and cheese he handed her, filling her stomach, a faint warning flowed into Olivia’s ears.

‘It’s better not to run into Greta.’

Cryer did not provide a reason, but she did not even feel like asking.

Wasn’t she the one who had ‘purified’ and killed that magician?

You’re not typically insane.

With the chills running down her back, Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them.

Right. Let’s avoid crossing paths.

It’s right to avoid a mad person because they’re scary.

Moreover, Cryer, who did not give a reason, added.

“The woman, didn’t the princess ask if she bothered you?”

There’s no way the princess that the mad person referred to could be two people.

Olivia, elegantly rubbing the goosebumps on her arms, skillfully dealt with the foreign guests flocking around her like a cloud of dust after the funeral.

As a state funeral, more superficial and probing conversations than substantive and deep discussions were going on.

Someone suddenly threw a preposterous topic.

“Speaking of the last conference topic.”

Naturally, there was no one who paid attention or showed interest in his words.

Because he brought up the conference that had already gone well and smoothly.

However, only one person, Olivia caught the topic in one breath.

“Are you talking about the topic?”

And who, at this place, would want to start a conversation even once.

It’s her, the only princess of the only empire on the continent, Volcheik, and the next empress.

As if they had promised, people took out a word about the conference.

Even if one person uttered just one word, there were so many people that it took quite a while for the person who first threw out the topic to get another chance to speak.

Finally, the one who was able to open his mouth again asked.

“The theme was completely different before the schedule changed. I heard that Your Highness deliberately changed it. World peace. Is that right?”