When the shout first rang out, Leon had only just fallen asleep.
His father had gone up to his room but had not settled for a long time, continuing to make an uproar.
Leon — the princess of Gillenua is coming. She’s coming to kill my brother! And then the throne will be mine — don’t you see? That would make you Crown Prince too. You’re a hundred times better than that scheming Nigel!
As the level of his father’s ranting climbed higher and higher, Leon had dismissed all the guards and servants and stayed alone at his father’s side.
Deep into the night, the rain and wind battered the windows with increasing fury. Each flash of lightning cast a cold blue light across his father’s frenzied face, and the sight was enough to unsettle even Leon.
He stood watching his father pace the room and mutter incoherently, and the thought surfaced in him with quiet dread:
Could he have been exposed to a drug? Or a curse?
His father’s stability had been deteriorating steadily since Nigel’s accession — but until recently it hadn’t been as severe as this. His father was imperial to the bone, a man who had always staked his identity on bearing and decorum.
And yet here he stood — unkempt as a drunkard, violent, impulsive, barely governed by any semblance of reason.
The possibility isn’t negligible. Something could be eroding his mind.
Particularly given the weight of what his father had done.
Even as Leon sat with these thoughts, his father attempted to climb out the window and escape into the storm. Leon intervened again and again.
Eventually, a servant was called in to bring brandy — and only after drinking it did his father finally succumb to sleep.
Leon stepped quietly from the room and exhaled deeply. The stench had been nauseating.
I thought the side effects of the curse had almost entirely disappeared.
But the smell coming from his father lately was something different. A putrid, acrid mixture of terror and compulsion all tangled together.
Leon descended the stairs with a long sigh.
It was the dead of night. As he moved toward his own room, his gaze paused briefly on the second-floor corridor where Kasha would be sleeping.
Two guards were moving back and forth between Kasha’s and Eve’s rooms. That, at least, was reassuring.
…She must be asleep by now.
And if not asleep, what were you going to do?
Tell her I’m sorry that my father appears to have lost his mind, and beg her not to judge us too harshly?
Why was it that every façade he had so carefully built crumbled into nothing the moment Kasha was near?
The wretchedness of his own condition was, at this particular moment, almost impossible to bear.
He turned toward the stairs to his own room with a self-mocking smile. Even then, it took several more hours of restless turning before sleep finally claimed him.
“Stop that man — intruder!”
When the shout first came, he thought he was dreaming.
“Miss Eve — Miss Eve is—!”
But the second cry hit him differently. He was on his feet before the sound had fully registered, and he was out of the bed before the thought had formed.
“What is happening!”
By the time Leon reached Eve’s door, a cluster of guards and servants had already gathered in the corridor. The sight of Eve’s bedroom door standing wide open made his heart slam against his ribs.
“Who was standing guard? Report — what happened?”
At Leon’s thunderous demand, one soldier stepped forward with visible reluctance.
“Sir — that is to say — a few moments ago I thought I heard a faint sound from inside the room. I knocked and asked if the young lady was alright, and when there was no answer I was worried, so I opened the door — and there was a man throwing himself off the balcony!”
“…What?”
The blood in Leon’s veins went cold.
He pushed through the servants and entered the room.
The room was in perfect darkness — the deep dark of the hour before dawn. But he could see well enough to confirm that the four-poster bed with its white linens held no one.
“Miss Eve is… gone, Your Highness. Some of the guards have gone after the intruder, but…”
The butler who reported this had gone grey in the face.
Leon heard nothing more. He turned sharply and moved toward the stairs to retrieve his weapon.
He had just set his foot on the first step when a voice reached him from behind — innocent, unhurried, mildly confused.
“Leon…?”
He froze.
“Goodness — Miss Eve! You’re safe?”
“Yes. Why is everyone out here?”
Leon breathed. He brought his racing heart to heel and turned around slowly.
The door to the room just beside Eve’s — Kasha’s room — was standing open. And Eve was just then emerging from inside it, rubbing her eyes in her nightgown, opening her mouth in an enormous yawn.
“What’s the matter with everyone? Where is Kasha?”
In that instant, Leon’s heart — which had just begun to steady — lurched down again.
He crossed to Eve in a few quick strides and knelt, pulling her into his arms. He felt the warmth of her there, solid and real. He kept his voice as calm as he could manage.
“Eve. I’m sorry for waking you. But why are you coming out of Kasha’s room?”
“Mmm… well…”
She wriggled slightly, looking as though she was hiding something. Leon stroked her back slowly, steadying her.
“It’s alright. You can tell me. No one will be in any trouble.”
Slightly reassured by the careful peace in his voice, Eve turned her eyes up at him and scratched at her head.
“But Kasha told me not to tell…”
“What?”
“See — the thing is — I’ve actually been sleeping in Kasha’s room. We switched.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Leon was deeply confused — and beneath that confusion, a foreboding began to crawl up the back of his neck.
If Eve and Kasha had switched rooms — then the faint sound the guard had heard from inside that room — the sound he had taken for a cry—
Was it Kasha’s?
The thought had barely formed before Leon handed Eve off to the nearest servant and ran.
He burst into Eve’s room.
Still in perfect darkness.
The balcony doors hung open, swaying and creaking in the damp air. The rain had softened to a fine mist, and the sound and smell of it filled the room.
His heartbeat roared in his ears as he crossed toward the balcony.
But the moment he stepped out and saw the railing — the tension inside him broke into something else entirely.
Smeared across the railing: blood.
The rain was slowly washing it away, but there was nothing small about it.
Leon felt as though every drop of blood in his body had rushed to the soles of his feet.
“Kasha!!”
Without thinking, he leaned out over the railing into the black dark and shouted her name. His chest felt as though it might tear open.
Only silence came back. Cold and complete.
“Leon — what’s wrong? Is Kasha gone?”
Eve’s frightened voice behind him barely penetrated.
He swung his leg up onto the railing.
“My lord—!”
The servants cried out in alarm — and he was already in the air.
Is that a hallucination?
A faint voice. Almost too faint to be real.
Leon pressed two fingers to his lips: quiet. The servants fell still.
Rustle.
“Leon.”
Not a hallucination. It was coming from somewhere below the balcony — small, close, unmistakable.
He landed cleanly, turned — and there, pushing apart the undergrowth directly below, a tangled mass of dark hair and two clear pink eyes looked up at him.
“Kasha!”
Something hot rose through his chest like a tide.
In that moment, meeting her clear gaze, he understood: if she had been harmed — if she had been taken from him — he would never have forgiven himself for it. Not for the rest of his life.
And then she straightened, rising slowly from the bushes. Her slight body and long hair were soaked through; bits of straw and earth clung to her from head to foot.
But how breathtaking she looked, even so.
Leon moved toward her without a word and pulled her into his arms.
“Leon?”
Her startled breath stirred warm against his chest.
He pressed his face into the top of her head and breathed in the clean scent of her, and the relief that moved through him was so profound it reached his bones.
“I was worried. Truly.”
“…Leon.”
This small woman — whose shoulders looked as though they might shatter if he held too tightly — had been in danger. The thought was almost more than he could endure.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes……”
The answer was a little unsteady but held weight enough to reassure him — and then something reached him through the scent of her. Something metallic. Something dark.
He pulled back sharply and looked at her.
She was still in her white nightgown, soaked through to transparency, and he turned his eyes away quickly from the silhouette visible through the wet fabric.
But then, in the same instant, he saw it: the sleeve of her left arm, drenched completely red.
And the bloodstain he had seen on the balcony railing flared to life in his memory.
“Are you injured? How badly?”
I embraced her when she was in this state. What was I thinking.
Freed from the curse and still no better than an animal, he thought bitterly, biting down hard on his own lip as he took her left arm and carefully examined it.
“It’s—”
The smell of blood was suffocating. He wanted to tear apart the world. If the intruder had been standing in front of him at that moment, Leon would not have let him leave with his life.
His hands blazed a deep, immediate gold as holy power flooded into them. He drove it into her arm—
“I’m fine.”
Kasha’s hand stopped him.
“What do you mean, fine—”
“I’m not injured.”
“Not injured?”
“No.”
“Then whose blood is this?”
“The intruder’s.”
At her reply, Leon’s expression grew very serious. Kasha kept her voice even and continued.
“I attacked the intruder. That’s how the blood—”
“You attacked the intruder? With what?”
Kasha raised an eyebrow slightly — as though the answer were obvious.
She reached into the undergrowth where she had been crouching and lifted something out.
A long, clear mana crystal, pulsing with a faint bluish glow. A simple mechanism was attached to one end.
When Leon recognized it, his expression shifted in a way that was rather difficult to describe.
Leon. I have a favor to ask.
What is it?
One day before Leon’s departure for Elhor Bay, Kasha had — for reasons of her own — admitted him to her room at the Rüschino estate. Possible only because Daryl was out.
Kasha had sat across from a Leon who was awkwardly holding himself together, and with an expression of considerable gravity, had shown him that very object.
…What kind of magical instrument is this?
A close-range combat tool.
Close-range… combat?
To be precise — a self-defense instrument. Designed to subdue an opponent far stronger than the user.
Leon had examined it carefully. The structure was straightforward: a slender, elongated mana crystal with a grip and a control mechanism attached. Light, too.
But on closer inspection, the outer surface of the crystal was coated in a faintly translucent, rough substance.
It took him a moment to identify it.
Is this Malkarion?
You know it.
Kasha laughed softly — that quietly pleased expression she always had. And without quite intending to, Leon had thought: she’s endearing when she looks like that.
He had noticed by now that when she talked about magical instruments, she barely stuttered at all and smiled more easily. He had also noticed, with some private amusement, that he had been bringing up the subject of magical instruments rather more frequently than usual, lately.
Malkarion is a dangerous substance, as I understand it.
Ordinarily, yes.
Malkarion was known to amplify the magical energy stored within a mana crystal instantaneously — but it was so difficult to control, and accidents involving it were common enough, that even trained mages had come to avoid it.
I’ve adjusted the amplification level so that the magical force is channeled instantly and only into the body of whatever the instrument directly touches.
Remarkable.
Leon’s admiration was entirely genuine, and Kasha lit up. Her clear pink eyes sparkled visibly. He found himself wanting to keep that expression there, and kept asking questions.
The magic is channeled directly into the target’s body — but is that enough to provide genuine self-defense?
It can’t inflict direct harm. But on someone without magical training — the sudden influx of external magic should cause a temporary paralysis. Long enough for the user to escape, or to retaliate.
Leon was genuinely impressed. In a true combat situation it might be limited in its usefulness — but for a physically slight woman like Kasha trying to protect herself, he could think of nothing more precisely suited.
So then — what is it you want from me?
I’ve been wondering how effective it actually is on a real person — would it be alright if I tested it on you? Just briefly?
You want to use this self-defense instrument on me.
I tested it on myself first, but I was unconscious almost immediately — so I suppose it works. But I’m worried it might not be sufficient against a larger man with your build.
Wait — you tested it on yourself? On you, Kasha?
When she nodded as though this were a perfectly natural course of action, Leon stared at her for a moment, then exhaled through his teeth.
Then he met her eyes.
Alright. I’ll be your test subject. But on one condition — from now on, if you need someone to test on, come to me. Don’t go experimenting on yourself first.
But—
You came to me today because I’m a Holy Knight. Because I can heal myself if anything goes wrong.
She looked at him with a flicker of sheepishness that told him he had read her correctly.
…Of course, owning a sheepish conscience and holding back on the test were two entirely separate things for Kasha. Leon spent approximately thirty seconds unconscious on top of her bedcovers before regaining awareness — and while the experience of lying in her bed was, in its own right, rather impossible to forget, he had come away profoundly impressed by the instrument’s efficacy.
And now, that very instrument was in Kasha’s hands.
He wasn’t sure whether to say well done or you reckless woman — so he said nothing, and his jaw simply worked in silence.
Then he noticed that her sleeve was still soaked through with blood.
Setting aside the question of her injury — he wanted to find that intruder and make him answer for this. Immediately.
But the moment he opened his mouth, he saw it: her hands were trembling. Not just her hands — her entire body was trembling, rain-soaked and shaking, the composed expression on her small face doing nothing to conceal how pale she was.
The brief infusion of holy power hadn’t been enough to quiet the shock.
He said nothing more. He closed the distance and put his arm around her shoulders. He felt her slight, trembling body slowly begin to still against him.
He pulled her closer, alarmed by how cold she was.
“Come inside. You can tell me everything once we’re in.”
Kasha had no energy left to argue. She nodded, head falling slightly, and let him guide her — or nearly carry her — back into the villa. She didn’t resist.
“I was in a light sleep. I thought I heard something, and I opened my eyes — and there was the silhouette of a man coming in through the balcony.”
Washed and wrapped in a thick blanket, Kasha told her story with a face as clear as a child’s. A cup of hot chocolate steamed in her hands.
The two of them were seated side by side on the sofa in Leon’s room.
He had needed to hear what had happened — and he could not bring himself to leave her in that room alone — so he had brought her here.
Kasha turned to look at the grey light beginning to show at the window, and shivered faintly — as though the terror of first seeing that silhouette had surfaced again. The fingertips gripping the edge of the sofa had gone white.
Leon felt an ache at the sight. He wanted desperately to take hold of that hand. But touching her repeatedly while she was still in shock felt like a kind of cowardice, and he held himself back through sheer effort of will.
He kept his voice as gentle as he could.
“You don’t have to tell me everything now. Rest first — there will be time to talk later, when you feel better.”
But Kasha shook her head. Her compressed lips were firm.
“…I’m fine. I can do this.”
It pained him, watching her refuse to allow herself even the smallest reprieve.
But if this is what you need.
He followed her lead.
“So you screamed when you saw the intruder? The guard said he heard a cry.”
“That must have been later. I had only just woken up, so my voice didn’t come at first. Instead I reached under my pillow for the instrument — I had practiced many times, so I could do that much even half-asleep.”
There was something almost fierce in her eyes as she said it.
In that look, Leon could see her — all those nights she must have spent practicing, over and over in the dark, reaching for the instrument beneath the pillow while the villa slept around her.
The deepening exhaustion visible in her face over the past several days suddenly made complete sense.
She had anticipated something. That was why she had switched rooms with Eve. That was why she had prepared, quietly and thoroughly, for exactly this.
And then the thing she had anticipated had come — in the form of an intruder.
How had she known? What did she know?
“……”
But for all his questions, for all that unsettled him, what Leon could not stop seeing was the tremble in her shoulders.
Thinking of the fear and loneliness she must have carried through all of those solitary nights — bearing all of this alone — made something in him come dangerously close to breaking.
The weight of the secret she was carrying was too heavy for those small shoulders.
That he couldn’t lift even a fraction of it yet was a pain all of its own.
“And then I waited for him to come closer.”
Kasha’s voice continued. Leon forced himself back into the conversation.
“You waited for him?”
“This instrument is useless unless there’s direct contact. Close range only.”
“I see.”
He nodded, genuinely struck by her composure. To hold yourself still and wait, with a strange man coming toward you in the dark, knowing you have only one chance — that was not something most people were capable of.
“Finally he came close — and leaned down over me to see my face. He seemed startled. In that instant, I pressed the instrument against him.”
“And then?”
“He went down immediately.”
She said it with matter-of-fact certainty and straightened her shoulders.
“Then why didn’t you call for the guard?”
“I tried. But he fell directly on top of me — and getting out from under him wasn’t easy. While I was struggling, he started to come around.”
The cry the guard must have heard was probably from that — Kasha pinned underneath the man, fighting to free herself. The image made him feel violently ill, and he kept his expression carefully neutral.
“As I felt him regaining consciousness, I was still trapped — the instrument had slipped out of my hand, I couldn’t reach it again — and I was desperate — so I reached out blindly, and my hand closed around something on the side table. A letter opener. And just as he was pushing himself up — I used it. On him.”
