084 Ancient stories always have a sequel.

"What is this supposed to mean? Could it be the legendary ritual of trading away the body to win freedom for the soul?" she muttered in bewilderment.

"That is one way to put it," the king said after a long, thoughtful pause, accepting her interpretation. "The White Tower exhausted its own power to help the last surviving members of the Altar family through this calamity. Those sheltered by the tower, in turn, preserved themselves at the cost of the warrior's companionship and the fading of the body. An equal exchange."

"And, incidentally, it also helped fulfill the tower's grand ideal of protecting the royal power of the White Tower Kingdom..." she added.

The king nodded.

"So that means even if an army of magical beasts breaks into the palace, the people inside the White Tower won't come out unless the king's life is actually threatened?" Lance fell into thought as well.

"So they can't go to Arcacia either?" she asked.

"If they could take part in the war, my White Tower Kingdom would already have unified the world," the king said, his eyes glinting with the light of ambition. He spoke with confidence. "There's no harm in telling you. In any case, the matter of those people not being able to leave the mountain isn't a secret. It's recorded in the ancient books; ordinary people simply never bother to look."

You're really trusting us all of a sudden, huh... she clicked her tongue in boredom.

"Since you want to go to Arcacia, then set out as early as possible," the king said, assuming the air of one dismissing his guests. "If you can, please help the princess of Ringfall as much as possible."

Seeing the faint flush on the expressionless king's face, she was struck by a mischievous impulse and said with exaggerated regret, "What's the point of looking? She still has to marry someone else in the end."

But that teasing remark hit Bradley right where it hurt. His expression stiffened, his lips moved, but no sound came out.

Lance nudged her lightly, signaling that she had gone too far. She realized it at once, but words once spoken could not be taken back. Not wanting to endure the awkward silence, she could only give an embarrassed laugh, tug Lance along, and bow to take her leave. Only when she reached the palace doors did she hear a faint voice drifting from within: "Even so, I only wish for her to be happily wed..."

Before the sentence ended, the doors were already closed.

She glared bitterly at the two great red ironwood doors, flexing her hands as if ready for a fight, muttering under her breath, "Give me back my romance script and my melodramatic lines, you bastard..."

Lance came over helplessly and dragged her away from the palace entrance, where she was baring her teeth in frustration. "Go pack your bags. Let's try to leave tonight."

"Can't we leave this afternoon?" she asked curiously.

"We already have arrangements this afternoon," Lance said with a smile. "This afternoon is the beheading you've been looking forward to for so long."

"Oh, right!" she exclaimed, smacking her own forehead as she remembered. This afternoon was the execution of the magical beast leader who had attacked the palace. She had never once watched a beheading in person, and curiosity had gnawed at her for ages. She had been talking about it every day, and at last the day had come.

Watching her bouncing along with excitement, Lance could only smile helplessly behind her. No one noticed that the amusement never reached his eyes.

-------------------- scene transition --------------------

At last free of her corset, she strolled down the street in loose clothes, while Lance followed behind with his hands clasped behind his head, gazing up at the sky in leisurely comfort.

"Why do I feel like I haven't gone out shopping so relaxedly in ages?" she said, turning back with a smile. In one hand she held the White Tower Kingdom's specialty flower candy, and in the other a skewer of roasted meatballs.

Lance thought for a moment as he chewed on the candy she had stuffed into his mouth. "Probably because every time we've gone shopping, it's been on orders?"

"That makes sense!" She fully agreed. "Before, I went shopping because of Liangyin's orders. Then when I finally got out to do a mission, I still had to listen to the officials persuade me to go shopping. And even when we were out shopping, they still had to force me to buy clothes. How annoying!"

"Nobody but you would treat buying clothes like the end of the world," Lance said with a laugh.

"Who says nobody?" she retorted, pointing with her right hand. "Look at those innocent husbands waiting at the shop entrance for their wives, and then look at those boyfriends who can only carry the bags. Which one of them isn't wearing a helpless smile? That's blatant coercion, exploitation, inhumanity!"

"But they do it so they can enjoy the good results once their wives or girlfriends are in a better mood," Lance said with a smile. "Unlike someone who can't enjoy anything before, during, or after shopping. Are you really a woman?"

"Get lost!" she said in mock anger, swinging her right hand toward him.

Lance played along, dodging theatrically, his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter.

Their fooling around brought them to the execution grounds. The site was in the central square of the imperial city, where stood a decorative guillotine. In history, it had once been a practical instrument for cutting down treacherous ministers. But as time passed and the White Tower Kingdom gradually stabilized, the number of vile traitors and corrupt officials who endangered the nation slowly dwindled. In the end, this place became a commemorative guillotine for sightseeing and tourism. No one had expected that, many years later, it would be called into service again.

It was still early, and the people around the square had not yet gathered; instead, they stood in small clusters, chatting in twos and threes.

The calm atmosphere quickly quieted her as well, after her earlier rowdiness.

The smile slowly faded from her lips, and she suddenly realized that, without noticing it, she had apparently begun to treat Lance as part of her life. She could roughhouse with him like an old friend, feed him things she didn't like to eat, turn to him whenever she was in trouble, and wait for him to help her out of a bind. Even sleeping in the same bed as him no longer felt strange.

Habit is truly a terrifying thing. Thinking back on how, along this journey, her attitude toward Lance's presence had changed from resistance and sarcasm to dependence and easy intimacy, she found it shocking that they had grown this familiar without her realizing it.

She could not help looking toward Lance. He was chewing on a piece of candy while surveying the surroundings, completely unaware of her gaze.

From this angle, Lance actually did look rather good, she mused inwardly. Setting aside the rare expressions that made him infuriating, if one judged only his looks and muscles, he could easily get full marks. He was powerful too, and very reassuring. He had a useful mind, always with a plan and ideas. The only thing was that his origin was unknown and his identity uncertain. No one knew what he had done before. Was he really an orphan? Surely not...

Her overly obvious stare finally caught Lance's attention. "What are you looking at? Don't tell me you've fallen for me?"

Awakened by that familiar infuriating tone, she immediately put on a disdainful expression. "Hah, you? Some strange man whose family background and true identity are completely unknown!"

Seeing her suddenly fierce reaction, Lance couldn't help continuing, "Don't they say mysterious people are the most attractive? If you knew everything, where would the fun be?"

"Even Bradley couldn't uncover your records. For all we know, you're not a mysterious man at all but a terrorist," she said, narrowing her eyes to study him.

Lance smiled and countered, "And they can't find your records either. Same difference."