SBTMK Chapter 8

'Is he dismissing me?'

It felt like he was asking whether someone like her would dare aim that high.

The competitive drive she had built since childhood—the part of her that had always sharpened at a challenge—stirred awake.

And then Simen's hand rose above her head.

"In that case, I suppose I could hand over any number of secrets." His smile filled her entire field of vision. "Sweetheart."

The endearment barely registered.

The sunlight was coming through the window behind him and she couldn't tell anymore whether she was squinting against the glare or against the way he looked standing there.

If I had been born with a face like that, I would have spent my whole life in pleasure too. Honestly. She really would have.

"Well. If you used your looks on me, I imagine you could get there fairly quickly."

He patted the top of her head.

Go ahead, try it—I'll hand over whatever you like. That was what it sounded like. An arrogant, open-handed offer. And somehow, inexplicably, it felt warm.

"...It seems like Simen is the one using their looks."

"Hmm?"

"N—Never mind."

...The inside of her head had come out through her mouth.

Fortunately, Simen didn't appear to have caught it. Flora exhaled quietly in relief and arranged her expression back into something controlled.

"I'm not the kind of talent worth the risk you'd be taking on," she said. "Not for someone in your position."

"Is that modesty, or another refusal? I've been so persistent—if you turn me down again, I'll be quite hurt."

There was definitely something supernatural happening. There was no other explanation. Simen made a slightly sad face, and Flora's composure moved.

Years of training—hardship-forged, painstaking—collapsed somewhere in the vicinity of her sternum.

"Hello! Lady Flora. My name is Lugaria, and I've been assigned to attend you starting today. It's a pleasure to meet you."

How did things end up like this.

"Hello, Lugaria."

How did things—

'You can call me careless and I won't argue. I'm still living under the threat of death every single day. Not everyone in this castle has sworn loyalty to me.'

Flora was in the middle of greeting the lady's maid who would be attending her while she recovered—and she was, simultaneously, replaying what Simen had said.

His eyes in those final moments, darkened and still, had left an impression she couldn't seem to clear.

There had been something in those words she recognized. The feeling of someone who had been surviving one difficult day after another. A strange sensation—something like kinship—that she had no proper name for.

'Trust is something time will take care of. You don't trust me right now either.'

The hand, gently patting her head. The voice, softened as though to say: you can rest now. She hadn't felt warmth like that in a very long time.

"Please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

"...Thank you. Lugaria."

"You're welcome to speak informally with me."

It didn't matter whether it was supernatural or something else. She had wanted to feel warmth like that for a little longer.

"I'm not used to it yet. I'll adjust slowly."

'Maybe I was just lonely for people.'

"Of course. I heard you were seriously injured. Sitting up must already be difficult—please lie back down and rest. The healer will come this evening."

"...Yes."

Flora lay back down the moment the greeting was finished. Lugaria straightened the bedding and slipped out, and silence settled in.

The lace canopy she had found beautiful when she first opened her eyes came back into view. Clearly real. Feeling exactly like a dream.

'Flora of Haenkan.'

She had decided to stay. She no longer had to live running.

But the decision had been too impulsive. Which left her unmoored—and frightened.

'If Ayden finds out...'

There was no guarantee this place would be safe. Flora pulled the blankets tight and closed her eyes against the sudden cold press of foreboding.

The weight of being watched was difficult to ignore. Simen set down his documents.

"Your eyes are about to set something on fire, Erne."

[Your Majesty.]

"I know you have objections. I know—it was reckless. But Flora could be a significant asset."

[And you've considered that the reverse might equally be true? As I've mentioned before, Your Majesty—it is fortunate you've never taken up gambling. You're thinking of what you might gain later rather than the immediate risk.]

"If I had taken up gambling, I'd have drained the treasury. I know that about myself."

Erne exhaled briefly.

[Your Majesty already has sufficient ability and advantage to restore the imperial authority without any of this.]

"...Corruption among the nobility alone won't fix a broken order. They'll sever their own tails before you get close. Pin the blame on whatever powerless house is convenient."

Something shadowed Simen's expression. Erne held a short silence before speaking again, carefully.

[If you believe a noble is connected to what happened to that woman, extracting the information by force is also an option. You may have misjudged the direction entirely, Your Majesty. When there are simpler methods available, why—]

He knew. There were simpler methods. But—

"I've always done things the hard way. You know that about me."

Simen turned his chair slowly to face the window behind him.

The garden in front of the imperial palace changed with every season, each flower chosen and tended with care. Today, pale pink petals caught the full afternoon light and shone. He realized, not for the first time, that it had been a while since he had looked at this view in broad daylight.

[When the nobility hears of this, she will become a weakness of Your Majesty's. You know what they are—give them one thing and they reach for two.]

Simen thought of Flora. The way she had looked while being hunted across that mountain. The way she had run toward the fighting alone, her back disappearing into the chaos to keep him out of it.

He did not, as a rule, let private feeling influence these decisions. But in the black of her eyes he had seen grief and loneliness—something that looked, uncomfortably, like a younger version of himself. That had been difficult to look away from.

Bringing her into the palace had been impulsive, and he was under no illusions about that. From the beginning, he had been cataloguing her vulnerabilities, intending to use them. Half of that original plan had already collapsed. The rationale of strengthening imperial power was probably a convenient excuse at this point—and Erne, who was not slow, had certainly noticed. Which explained the displeasure.

[Was it pity, Your Majesty.]

"I don't know."

[...]

"Just... let's watch a while longer. I have a feeling this time the bet was a good one."

Simen said it obliquely and smiled. Erne did not so much as blink.

[...If I see anything suspicious, I will handle it immediately.]

"Thank you for the trouble. Speaking of which—what do you think about this idea?"

[What do you...]

"Watching her from a distance is cumbersome. It might be simpler to place her directly in the Imperial Guard and keep an eye on her that way. You saw how she shoots—her archery alone would pass any trial, I'd think..."

He had the impression that Erne's violet eyes were turning the color of burning coals.

Simen laughed—a slightly awkward ahahaha—and waved a hand. A joke, he said. Just a joke.

'Someone's there.'

The presence registered before she was fully awake—footsteps stopping at the side of her bed, and an unfamiliar hand reaching toward her without hesitation.

'An attack?'

The Haenkan palace was no reason to let her guard down. If anything—

Thwack.

"Who are you?"

Flora caught the incoming hand by the wrist before it reached her, gripping hard. She was already sitting upright, already staring.

"...Oh!"

A short sound escaped the wrist's owner. Flora looked at the man she was holding.

Long, glossy violet hair. Eyes like high-summer gold. A beautiful man—even the wince of surprise was beautiful. His robes were white with a fitted cape, and across the chest, elaborate embroidery caught the light.

"Hello there. My Lady."

The surprise dissolved almost immediately. He smiled at her—warm and unhurried, as though having his wrist grabbed was entirely within acceptable parameters.

He was not a threat. Every detail confirmed it. The wincing and the smiling were equally lovely, and the quality of his presence—

Even the alarm Flora had reflexively deployed felt like it was being gently dissolved.

She let go of his wrist.

As she moved to sit up, he pressed a light hand to her shoulder—wordless instruction to remain lying down.

'He wants me to stay?'

Then he spoke.

"I am Eden Tyabel, the healer assigned to your treatment."

A healer. Eden—

The maid had mentioned it, hadn't she. A healer would come this evening.

"Ah..."

Flora understood what she had done and pressed her lower lip together. She had nearly snapped a priest's wrist. A priest who bore Arzeka's grace.

"I only stopped by to briefly check your condition—I hadn't expected you to be awake. My apologies."

"Please don't apologize. I was the one who behaved badly toward you. My name is Flora. May Arzeka's grace be with you..."

In Haenkan, those who could work healing magic were exclusively the priests of the Temple of Arzeka. That was why Eden radiated this warmth. She was glad she had studied Haenkan when she had the chance—she could at least greet him properly, late as it was.

'But—is this definitely a man? How can someone be this beautiful. He probably looks even more lovely when he cries than when he smiles...'

The thought completed itself before she caught it.

Flora went cold.

That was exactly the kind of thought a sadist would have. That was the kind of thought Ayden would have.

'Run, Eden.'

Eden, who could not possibly know what had just crossed her mind, looked at her with bright eyes and smiled again—that same serene, unhurried expression.

"May Arzeka's grace be with you as well, Lady Flora."

"...Th—thank you."

Lying there looking up at him felt vaguely like committing some kind of sacrilege.

She shifted, trying to find a position that didn't feel exactly like lying on a bed of thorns. Eden's expression turned concerned.

"I know it's uncomfortable, but it's best to move as little as possible right now, My Lady."

"...Yes."

"May I look at the injuries?"

Flora nodded as though she had no capacity to do otherwise.

In truth, healing was the furthest thing from her mind. She was fairly certain she could endure any amount of pain as long as she had Eden Tyabel's face to look at.