15.
After handing the thugs over to the Security Force, Edwin escorted Ri-Na out of the dark alley. With every step they took, the surrounding shadows seemed to lift. Eventually, they emerged back onto the main street, where the festival was still in full swing.
“It seems quite a lot of time has passed already.”
Ri-Na whispered, glancing at the street. The crowds had thinned, and merchants were packing up their stalls.
“Indeed.”
It wasn’t a remark intended to elicit a response, yet Edwin felt the need to break the silence that had settled during their walk. He spoke with deliberate care.
“We should get you back.”
Ri-Na seemed exhausted, the events of the night finally taking their toll. Sleepiness clung to her violet eyes, weighing down her lashes. Thankfully, there was no trace of fear toward him in her expression, despite the violence she had witnessed moments ago.
“I shall see you home.”
Relieved, Edwin volunteered to escort her, his pride stung by the memory of her seeing his more menacing side.
“Thank you.”
Having endured a difficult day, Ri-Na readily accepted.
The two walked through the midnight streets in silence. Ri-Na, who usually took the lead in conversation, was too drained to speak, and Edwin struggled to find a fitting topic. Before he knew it, they reached Indar Street, where Ri-Na’s house stood. As the familiar green roof came into view, Ri-Na’s expression softened, while Edwin’s grew somber without him realizing it.
Only when they were about to part did he finally find his voice.
“Now that I think of it, I promised to treat you to a meal.”
He brought it up as if it had only just occurred to him, feigning surprise.
“Oh, I had completely forgotten about that.”
Ri-Na’s voice showed genuine bewilderment, as if the festival felt like a memory from a different lifetime. Edwin laughed faintly, a sensation like feathers fluttering in his ribcage. He inhaled, trying to steady the sudden, ticklish nerves.
She seemed to be in better spirits, though he couldn’t be certain. As she moved to bid him farewell, his instincts took the reins.
“Would you give me one more chance?”
Her eyes widened, clearly caught off guard. However, she didn’t look displeased. Encouraged, Edwin pressed on.
“Are you busy tomorrow?”
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted the rush.
“I have a prior engagement tomorrow,” Ri-Na replied, sounding troubled.
“Then, the day after?” he asked, even more cautiously.
“I have to go to work the day after tomorrow.”
Her refusal was just as guarded as his request. When the silence stretched thin, Edwin’s jaw tightened.
“But the day after that should be fine. How about you, Sir Rohas?” Ri-Na suggested with a shy smile.
“That’s fine.”
Edwin didn’t miss his opening, his hand instinctively reaching for hers. Once the plans were set, Ri-Na hurried toward her door. As she scurried away, Edwin thought she looked like a squirrel the size of his palm.
*Boom!*
As if part of some nobleman’s extravagant entertainment, a firework whistled into the sky, exploding prematurely above their heads.
***
The next day, as soon as the sun rose, I took Connie and headed to the Temple.
*‘There might only be as much holy power in this as a hamster’s claw, but it still brings peace of mind.’*
Connie rubbed her sleep-heavy eyes as she watched me make a donation and receive a small holy artifact.
“But why are we at the Temple so early in the morning all of a sudden?” she whispered as we stepped away from the priest in charge.
“It feels like too many bad things have been happening lately.” I sighed.
Connie’s eyes cleared, her gaze shifting toward the adhesive bandage peeking out from the collar of my blouse. I lowered my voice and explained what had happened the previous night. I omitted the grim details to spare her, but she acted as if I had barely escaped with my life.
“Still, it’s a relief that Sir Rohas was there with you.”
No sooner had I finished than Connie shuddered.
“I was lucky,” I agreed.
Connie whispered seriously, “They say retired soldiers are going around causing all sorts of accidents lately.”
“Well, they say the Security Force is being reinforced, so it should improve.”
“I hope so.”
Due to the decade-long war, the economic and social situation was objectively worse than at the start of the late Emperor’s reign. Still, with the laurel wreath now claimed by the Empire, there was a glimmer of hope.
*‘It just takes time. This isn’t the worst-case scenario.’*
While I was lost in thought, Connie, watching the long line at the Temple’s free soup kitchen, rummaged through her pocket.
“Ah, I shouldn’t live my life listening to my conscience like this,” she muttered, tossing a gold coin into the donation box.
It was the first time she had dipped into her prize money, which she had been clinging to like a treasure for days. I took a few silver coins from my purse and dropped them in as well.
“I hope the Temple doesn’t skim off the top and actually uses this for relief,” Connie said, loud enough that the priests clearly heard her.
“Your voice is really loud,” I warned, but it was too late. Several priests were already glaring at us.
I grabbed Connie by the arm and hurried out. We didn’t stop until the Temple looked no bigger than a fist. Only then did Connie begin to boast.
“I said it so everyone could hear! What Imperial citizen doesn’t know the Temple pockets half of all donations as ‘God’s share’?”
Connie, who had grown up in a poorhouse under the Temple’s umbrella, grumbled with familiar bitterness.
“Still, half is genuinely used for the poor.”
That was the only reason the Temple still had a foothold in the Empire. It was just corrupt enough to be infuriating, yet too necessary to dismantle—an ambiguous rot that went deeper than most dared to admit.
“If the Temple wasn’t there, the relief would stop entirely.”
The soon-to-appear Saintess protagonist was reportedly planning to weed out the corrupt, so I placated Connie as best I could. *‘There are good people here, too—like the priest who helped you find your sponsors.’*
Connie made a ridiculous face toward the Temple, unconvinced but silenced by the truth of it. We walked on in silence until her mood lifted as we reached the festival streets.
“How long has it been since we had a proper festival like this?”
I had been there yesterday, but Connie was bubbling with excitement, claiming it was her first time. It hadn’t been bad exploring with Sir Rohas, but being with the highly reactive Connie was a different kind of fun.
Carrying bags filled with trinkets, we headed toward the food stalls. The first thing we grabbed was cold fruit juice. Despite the overcast sky and the chill, I was parched. After draining the cup, I began to crave something substantial.
“Oh, that place is delicious.”
I spotted the chicken skewer stall from yesterday and guided Connie toward it. I paid for two and handed one to her. She took a massive bite, her eyes widening.
“You’re right, this is incredible.”
She swallowed the chicken and grilled green onions in one go and asked, “Did you come here yesterday with Sir Rohas?”
I answered absentmindedly, focused on wiping sauce from my mouth. “Yeah, it was open yesterday, too.”
*‘Ah.’*
The realization hit me too late. I had pressed one of Connie’s buttons.
My cheeks burned. As I turned my head slowly, I found Connie watching me with a grin as mischievous as a cat that had finally caught its prey.
“You did it. You really did it.”
“Did what!” I shouted.
Connie’s grin widened, filled with dangerous amounts of imagination. “A date.”
It was a more wholesome term than I expected, but I couldn’t admit to it. “It wasn’t.”
I denied it with all the petulance I could muster, but Connie ignored me completely.
“When a man and a woman walk around a festival and share street food, we call that a date.”
She began to pelt me with questions. “So when is the wedding?” “When did you realize you were in love with Sir Rohas?”
“Are you talking about my wedding? Or Sir Rohas’s?” I deflected. “And I haven’t felt that way, so I can’t answer!”
I defended myself like a fortress, making a firm resolution: I would keep the fact that I was meeting Sir Rohas the day after tomorrow a secret until the moment I died.