IWAPUF 57

“Anasha was furious with me. She asked why I let the malicious rumors about me spread unchecked.”

Some time had passed since I entered Evan’s room. There was still no sign of any signal, meaning either the Angriver girl hadn’t arrived yet or, contrary to my expectations, she hadn’t taken the bait I’d planted.

“The rumors surrounding me, whatever they were, didn’t matter to me. They couldn’t affect me in the slightest.”

Absentmindedly, I tapped the bed with my fingers. Evan watched me steadily. My reflection was clear in his bright, slate-blue eyes.

“No, in fact, the worse the rumors got, the better. They could serve as an excuse to step down from being the crown prince’s fiancée.”

“…Has your heart changed?”

Evan’s voice dropped a tone lower than before. He seemed exhausted from talking for so long in his injured state. If the Angriver girl didn’t show up, I could make someone else the witness. But I worried whether Evan could hold out that long. He already looked terribly fatigued.

I felt uneasy about dragging an injured man into this. But anyone other than Evan wouldn’t be able to perfectly deceive the enemy.

“Yes, Evan. My heart has changed.”

“…”

“Even the worst rumors couldn’t hurt me. I’ve always been that way, and I always will be. But those rumors have been hurting the people around me.”

A few days ago, Mari, having heard the rumors circulating outside, broke down in tears in front of me. She wept as if she herself were the target of the gossip, her sobs echoing through the mansion.

Her tears made me look around. It wasn’t just Mari—the maids in the mansion were all outraged by the rumors about me, and Rant clung to me with tear-filled eyes. Anasha, who’d been running around trying to contain the rumors, was no exception.

Sys, using his injury as an excuse to limit his movements, was operating in secret to minimize the damage to me.

Until now, I thought it was just my problem. That as long as I was fine, it didn’t matter. But realizing my indifference had been hurting my people made it impossible to stay passive any longer.

“It’s not for anyone else. I’m just tired of sitting quietly for my own sake.”

Evan opened his mouth. He seemed about to say something but paused, his gaze shifting behind me. At the same moment, the faint sound of wind chimes tinkled. It was the signal that the Angriver girl had arrived.

I pressed a finger to my lips toward Evan. His face hardened, clearly displeased, but he seemed to agree to join my plan, as he averted his gaze from the door where the Angriver girl stood.

I had left the door slightly ajar when I entered. The Angriver girl was likely peeking through the gap at Evan and me. She thought she was being discreet, but even I, let alone Evan—a knight—could sense her presence.

Though he was the guild master, Evan was a knight. Anasha had said he kept his sword within arm’s reach even when he slept. True to her words, a longsword rested neatly by the bed.

I carefully lifted the sword. It was heavier than it looked, far weightier than the wooden practice swords Rant used.

As I drew the blade from its sheath, the sound of metal rang out, revealing a gleaming, sharp edge. I nearly dropped it under the weight but managed to hold on.

The sheath, however, clattered loudly to the floor. With my free hand, I gripped the handle fully. The heavy sword’s weight settled in my clenched hands.

Keeping the sharp tip downward, I slowly raised the blade. Evan watched me silently, his eyes never leaving me.

“Die for me, Evan.”

Evan didn’t blink, his clear slate-blue eyes fixed on me. I swung the sword down with all my strength toward the reclining Evan.

Thud!

The sound of leather tearing rang out as red liquid instantly soaked the bed. The white sheets were drenched, and the red liquid dripped to the floor, reaching the soles of my shoes.

“Eek!”

The Angriver girl gasped audibly. I took a deep breath, then slowly turned my head, giving her just enough time to notice and flee.

She wasn’t entirely hopeless—she bolted with a scampering sound before I fully turned. Through the slightly open door, I caught a glimpse of her dress’s hem before it vanished.

To be thorough, I walked to the door and flung it open. True to her fearless bravado, she was fast—her figure was already gone. Instead, the man who had lured her here appeared.

“I’ve put a shadow on the Angriver girl.”

“Well done. If anyone approaches her, inform me immediately.”

“Understood. I’ve already instructed the shadows.”

“What about the spies?”

“I confirmed some are tailing the Angriver girl.”

“Leak the situation she witnessed to the remaining spies discreetly. Make it natural—they mustn’t suspect a thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What about the Marchioness of Engrail and the Baroness of Bizdel?”

“As you predicted, the Baroness of Bizdel showed great interest in the Gaya Kingdom items. They’re browsing on the second floor.”

“If there’s anything they like, give it to them, no matter what it is. I’ll cover the cost. Tell them it’s my gesture of friendship.”

“Why go to such lengths?”

He asked, clearly puzzled.

“I plan to make them additional witnesses.”

More witnesses. The idea struck me the moment I saw them here. If the Angriver girl was a witness to a blood-soaked deception, they would be witnesses to the opposite.

Conflicting truths from witnesses to the same event. The more cards I held, the better.

“Witnesses?”

“I intend to place them on the opposite side of the Angriver girl’s testimony. Arrange for us to cross paths naturally when I leave. It won’t be easy, but it must seem organic.”

“It’s not that difficult… Understood.”

He looked curious but wisely kept his questions to himself. There wasn’t time to explain in detail, and he seemed to know it, prioritizing action over inquiry—a true deputy guild master.

“Unless you have further instructions, shall I proceed with calling Madame Miela as planned?”

“Go ahead.”

He bowed at my response. I turned back into the room, leaving him behind. There was no need to leave the door open this time. With a heavy thud, it closed.

As I stepped inside, a faint smell of dye stung my nose. The thin liquid soaking the bed and floor was the source.

The leather pouch I’d received contained dye used for fabric. It was the same kind Lai had spilled on my clothes when we collided. The vivid red dye, thick like blood, could easily be mistaken for it if not for its distinct smell.

“Sorry for making a mess of your room…”

Evan’s mood seemed off. He stared at the dye-soaked sheets with a rigid expression. For a moment, I worried I’d pushed an injured man too far. I quickly approached him.

“Evan?”

To make the scene more realistic, I’d swung the sword right beside him, bursting the dye-filled pouch. The bed, Evan, and I were splattered with red dye. It even stained the bandage around his wound, making it impossible to tell dye from blood.

“Could your wound have reopened?”

In my haste, I reached for the bandage on his abdomen. Evan’s large hand grabbed my wrist. His sudden action startled me so much I stammered an excuse.

“Ah! Sorry, I wasn’t trying to touch your wound. I just wanted to check.”

“I…”

Perhaps my panic reached him. Evan, who had been silent, parted his lips. I quieted, listening intently.

“I am your knight.”

He raised his face toward me. Standing as I was, he had to look up at me.

“Protecting you is my duty.”

He slowly lifted his hand. His rugged, masculine fingers approached my face, stopping just short of my cheek. His calloused, sturdy fingers trembled faintly. Even without touching me, the tremor seemed to transmit, making my cheek flush inexplicably.

Our eyes met. My startled face reflected in his slate-blue eyes. The vivid red dye stood out starkly against my pale cheek. In that moment, Evan’s face twisted. His gaze, looking at me, wavered as if wounded.

“Ev…”

Before I could say his name, he pulled his hand back. His clenched fist revealed taut blue veins. He glared at my hand in his grip, stained red with dye like the sheets.

The situation was growing uncomfortable. Embarrassed, I tried to pull my wrist free, but his strong grip wouldn’t budge. Evan’s chest heaved. A deep, sigh-like breath escaped him.

“Don’t ever stain your hands with blood again.”

It hit me then—I’d only explained the rough plan, not the specifics. Time was short, but thinking of how startled he must have been when the pouch burst, I felt deeply sorry.

“I’m sorry for startling you.”

It was a deliberate act to deceive. Using real animal blood might have been more convincing, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The dye was convincing enough. More than anything, the metallic stench of blood, perhaps from my memory of dying choking on it, felt repulsive. For what lay ahead, dye was easier to handle.

“You must have noticed by the smell, Evan, but this isn’t blood—it’s red dye.”

As a knight, he couldn’t possibly mistake dye for blood. His mention of blood meant he was truly angry. Unable to lash out at a lady as a knight, he was likely suppressing his anger with that hardened expression.

Evan’s role in this plan was the most critical. I worried I’d burdened an already injured man too much, but no one was better suited. The problem was I’d gone ahead without his consent. His anger was entirely justified. Even as my knight, he had the right to choose. This was clearly my mistake.

“I’m sorry, Evan. If you really don’t want to, you can back out.”

It would be tough without him, but I couldn’t force someone unwilling. I’d have to start over, but that was my own doing.

“It’s my fault for dragging you in without your consent. Don’t worry about this anymore.”

“Why don’t you understand?”

His voice, laced with anger, struck my ears. His jaw tightened as if holding back.

“I’ve lived to protect you.”

His face twisted with anguish as he looked at me.

“Protecting you is my reason for living. I don’t exist to watch you stain your hands like this!”

Evan grasped my hand with both of his, pressing it to his forehead. His bowed, trembling body shook faintly.

“Evan, this isn’t real blood…”

“Whether it’s real or not doesn’t matter.”

He raised his head. His gaze fixed on my hand in his grip. Was it his words? The red dye on my hand felt like blood for a moment.