17.
There wasn’t a single flaw in Lancelot’s argument. With her family ruined and her father missing, Anita’s safety was indeed precarious.
However….
‘I have to get to the villa.’
She couldn’t explain what had happened today, which made the mention of the villa feel forced and awkward. The longer she remained silent, the colder Lancelot’s gaze became.
“I don’t know what you’re plotting, but let’s be clear: do not go anywhere alone. Do not view this as a nuisance, and certainly don’t mistake it for overprotectiveness.”
“Okay.”
Lancelot seemed thoroughly displeased by her timid response, but he didn’t press her further. The conversation died away as he turned his attention to the window.
As silence settled, the incident she had pushed to the back of her mind resurfaced.
‘Come to think of it, he didn’t bring up the marriage.’
He had been so insistent before. Had he changed his mind in a single day? If so, that would be a relief.
Soon, Lancelot’s lips, pressed into a thin line, parted.
“If you have something to say, say it.”
“Huh?”
“You have that look on your face.”
Anita felt a strange shiver. It wasn’t because of the marriage, but because of his words.
“That man said something similar.”
Lancelot, who had been staring listlessly at the passing scenery, turned to face her—not just his eyes, but his entire posture shifted toward her.
“He said that every time I lie, my mouth smiles, but my eyes don’t. Do you think so too?”
“No.”
The denial came without a second of hesitation.
“Really? Then maybe it’s only in front of strangers….”
“You don’t have a habit like that.”
Lancelot cut her off, a faint sneer playing on his lips—a sneer directed at someone else.
“Someone else claims to have discovered a habit of yours that even I haven’t? Nonsense.”
With that, he looked back out the window as if the matter were settled. Anita realized the implication, a flush of self-reproach rising to her cheeks.
‘I was fooled.’
The man hadn’t figured out a secret tell; he had simply been probing. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious that magician became. She would have to stay away from the amusement park for a while.
‘But why did Lancelot bother sending a child to fetch me?’
Even if the boy was cheap to hire, he could have just called out to her.
‘…Ah.’
The realization struck her. Lancelot knew exactly who that man was.
***
Early the next morning.
The moment she opened her eyes, Anita finished her preparations and headed for Duke Edenbahir’s bedroom. She moved quickly and quietly, turning at the fork in the corridor.
She didn’t know what had come over her, but there was a painting she needed to see.
“Nuaza.”
She stopped, looking up at the wall. It had been years since she had faced it head-on. She had avoided *The Sages Receiving Nuaza’s Teachings* because it reminded her of the Grand Duchess’s contemptuous, glaring eyes.
‘Is it because of the two-year gap? Strangely, I feel nothing now.’
Anita looked up at Nuaza’s eyes, which flashed with the gold of the sun.
‘Lancelot’s eyes were that exact color.’
The memories of that day still haunted her. Ten years ago, the day she escaped the Grand Duchess with Lancelot’s help. The day Lancelot had tumbled from his bed, screaming in agony through dozens of seizures.
‘Still, I’m glad he regained his health after that.’
The frail Lancelot, who had been too sickly to leave his room, no longer existed. He had been noticeably stronger since that night. Yet, when his eyes had burned with that golden light, an indelible scar had been left on Anita.
Sometimes, that scar ached. And on those nights, she dreamed of a giant golden dragon devouring her.
‘Why were his eyes golden back then?’
Hadn’t his pupils even slit like a reptile’s?
The Edenbahirs were descendants of the golden dragon Nuaza. She knew it had something to do with the legend, but the truth remained out of reach, only deepening her unease.
Shaking off the thought, she reached the Duke’s quarters. Fortunately, the physician was there for his rounds.
“Doctor. Could you please deliver this note to Lancelot? At 3:00 PM today.”
The doctor looked at the note with an uncomfortable expression.
“This is… is this a dangerous letter?”
“No. Not at all. It just must be shown to him at 3:00 PM sharp.”
She had spent the night agonizing over it, but in the end, she didn’t want to lie to him. She would go to Shavalon first and let Lancelot know the truth only once she was near the station.
The doctor accepted the request. Following the instructions Lancelot had previously given her, she headed to the labor agency with her assigned servant.
“Oh! Miss Anita? What brings you here?” the manager cried, rushing over and neglecting his other customers.
“Please lend me some money and a gun,” she requested. “I’ll return them in two days.”
The servant behind her looked aghast. “Miss Anita. A gun….”
“Haha! A gun is no problem. But as for money… how much?”
“Just enough for a train ticket. Two, actually. I’ll pay you back double within a week.”
The manager chuckled. “No need to pay back that much! Consider it my own money.”
Since he was so nonchalant, she requested extra for meals.
“Of course, of course. Please give my best regards to Lord Lancelot,” he added.
“Thank you.”
The gun he lent her was a revolver. With the money and the weapon in hand, she headed to the station. Only after she purchased two tickets for the 9:00 AM train to Buedort did the servant ask in a shaky voice, “Miss, what are you doing?”
“I’m just going to the villa in Buedort.”
“The one you mentioned to Lord Lancelot….”
“I left him a note. I’ll be back soon, so don’t worry.”
“Then why the gun….”
“I’m staying for two days; who knows what might happen? I’m a good shot. Don’t worry.”
She had a revolver engraved with her name at home, but she hadn’t brought it; she couldn’t bear to lose it. Despite her reassurance, the servant’s anxiety didn’t fade.
Before boarding, Anita handed a note containing her information to a station employee.
“I am this person. If the Edenbahir family comes looking for me, please tell them I took the 9:00 train to Buedort.”
The woman, scanning the paper and accepting a small tip, nodded.
“Will do.”
Ten minutes later, the train departed.
It was exactly two hours later that Lancelot was informed of her absence.
***
“Lord Lancelot.”
His gaze shifted from his book to Jill. Lancelot was called by Jill dozens of times a day. After two years, he could guess the intent just by the tone.
His intuition told him this would be tiresome.
“Miss Anita left a note and departed.”
As expected.
*Thump.* Lancelot slammed the book shut and threw it onto the bed.
“Departed?”
Jill swallowed hard. “Yes. She ran away… or, left home? I’m not sure how to phrase it.”
“What about her luggage?”
“It remains untouched… but it seems it will take her two days to return.”
Two days? After he had warned her so strictly?
Something was wrong. Anita was rational and deliberate, not impulsive. This trip had been planned at least a day in advance.
Jill handed him a slip of paper.
“Here is the note she left behind, delivered by Mr. Volches.”