Siman froze in place.

Letitia’s words struck a chord deep within her.

She’d almost snapped, *I’m his cousin—how could I not understand him?*

But in Letitia’s eyes, she saw doubt—a silent challenge to her claim.

That look sparked irritation. *Don’t I know Hale? Do you, an outsider, know him better?*

She’d spent far more time with Hale than Letitia ever had; Letitia had merely glimpsed him a few times at school.

On what grounds did she question her?

Yet Siman stayed silent. A sudden pang of injustice washed over her.

*Don’t I want Hale to improve?*

For years, she’d guided him—to become a virtuous noble, inherit House Faxius, and rise as the respected Duke Faxius.

But Hale…

“I’m not saying I don’t trust him.”

“Then why doubt him?”

“He’s in District Six’s underground streets—doesn’t that raise suspicion?” Siman argued.

“He came to save me.”

Letitia paused, then declared it proudly, puffing out her chest.

*Impossible*, Siman thought.

Then… not entirely.

Letitia was wealthy, beautiful, influential—young, charming, believing in him unconditionally.

Compared to herself…

Siman froze again.

She recalled three years ago, when Hale’s reputation first shattered.

At first, she refused to believe it.

But letter after letter detailing his misdeeds, sharp whispers among noble circles—slowly eroded her certainty.

She remembered asking Hale. His constant denials.

If she’d stood by him like Letitia now…

Would their bond have been different these past few years?

“Moyel, come with me. We’re going back for Hale.”

Letitia fidgeted with her skirt hem.

His safety was all she could think of.

Moyel, unable to refuse, turned back with her.

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, Siman hurried after them.

Her heart churned—confused, aching.

She only hoped to see Hale soon, to hear his explanation.

Had she… truly been wrong?

…

Seeing Ye Wangxue off, Hale added firmly, “If you dislike your fiancé, elope. Don’t force yourself.”

Ye Wangxue froze, unmoving for a long moment.

“Go already!” Hale urged. “If Mandala stops shielding you from the Inquisition Bureau and they arrive, I’ll hand you over without blinking.”

Much to his chagrin, Ye Wangxue turned back, gaze solemn.

“You care so deeply for my happiness… Do you like this princess?”

“Huh?”

Hale was dumbfounded. *What?*

*What’s her deal?*

To Ye Wangxue, it made sense. A stranger—first meeting—and he insisted she elope?

Why? What gain for him?

Nonsense. They’d just fought tooth and nail.

And he didn’t seem like a soft-hearted do-gooder.

If he genuinely liked her… perhaps she’d allow him a chance.

“Answer. Do you?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Hmph. Suit yourself.”

Ye Wangxue wasn’t offended. Hale was young, brilliant—surely prideful.

Of course he wouldn’t confess easily.

They parted ways.

“Until next time,” Ye Wangxue called.

Hale nodded silently.

Inside, he sincerely hoped they’d never meet again.

…

“He’s not here. Where did he go?”

Outside the previously attacked bar, Letitia, Siman, and Moyel found no trace of Hale—only faint signs of a struggle.

“Could he have been captured?” Letitia’s voice trembled with worry.

If Hale was in danger because of her… she couldn’t bear it.

“My lady, stay calm. Young Master Hale is no weaker than I am. Sharp-minded too—he won’t fall easily to Xia Kingdom spies.”

Moyel meant to reassure her, but Siman stiffened.

*What did he say?*

*Hale’s strength matches mine?*

She knew Moyel surpassed her.

So the scale read: Hale ≥ Moyel ≥ her.

How could she accept this?

This wasn’t the cousin she remembered.

Yes, he’d undergone Black Knights Order selection young—but never showed skill. After his fall…

*Impossible.*

Yet Moyel disliked Hale. He wouldn’t lie.

Why…

Had she truly misjudged him?

Letitia was right. Why couldn’t she trust him?

Doubt coiled around Hale, Moyel, even herself.

Her mind tangled. She couldn’t admit it—but what else was left?

Heart heavy, she followed the others deeper into the bar.

Yafuman remained outside, claiming he’d keep watch.

…

“Archbishop Malik, what’s the situation?”

Christine had waited an hour inside Sanctum University’s special defense chamber.

Silver Knights encircled her and Maria tightly, no move to relocate her.

Staying put was safest; moving risked unknown danger.

“Rest easy, Lady Christine. We’re secure here. Two deputy knight captains under Cardinal Prelate Ron are en route. Once they arrive, we return to the cathedral.”

A Cardinal Prelate commanded one knight captain and four deputies—each a warrior worthy of the Sanctum Light Throne.

Sending two against spies felt like overkill.

Just then, a Silver Knight entered, bearing two documents.

Malik’s face tightened at the first.

Then softened at the second.

Document One: Mandala broke through the Inquisition Bureau and knights’ outer blockade, left the underground streets—possibly heading this way.

Document Two: The two deputy knight captains had already reached campus perimeter.

…

“So swift… My dear sister. It seems we’ll meet another time.”

Atop the ancient clock tower outside Sanctum University,

Mandala watched the two magic-powered motorcycles parked at the gate and clicked open his pocket watch once more.

A faint loneliness lingered in his words.