When Andrea watched Ailaira and Trinis “chatting and laughing,” she couldn’t understand why a vague, unspeakable sense of gloom lingered in her heart.
She tried hard to figure out what exactly this feeling was, but by the time she came to her senses, she was already standing protectively in front of the two of them.
Trinis took a step back, but didn’t seem to mind Andrea’s intrusion at all.
She remained as polite and modest as ever, her smile still pure and carefree. “Miss Ailaira always has no shortage of interesting and adorable girls by her side.”
Ailaira made no comment, but her gaze fell on Trinis’s torn clothes. “So, how did you escape from that obsessive, daughter-con of a King?”
“Father isn’t actually someone who’s obsessed with control. He’s just a bit overprotective of me at times. It’s easy to make him let his guard down—all you have to do is prepare a breakfast full of love for your dear father. He’ll eat it up without a second thought, and even a weary King will finally get some rest.”
This time, even Andrea picked up on the subtext in Trinis’s words. “You drugged the human King!?”
Trinis tilted her head, smiling gently as she denied it. “It was only some Herbal Cuisine with sleep-inducing properties. Lately, with the secret skirmishes against the elves, Father’s been exhausted every day. He really needs a good rest.”
As she finished, Trinis suddenly seemed to remember something. She clapped her hands, eyes sparkling with delight, and gazed at the unimpressed Ailaira with affection. “That recipe was something Miss Ailaira once invented just for me, actually. Back then, I could never fall asleep.”
“Oh? So you had that kind of skill too, genius?” Andrea’s tone was difficult to decipher, as she kept nudging Ailaira in the side with her elbow. “How come you’ve never cooked for me?”
“Don’t you have Jody? Doesn’t she keep you fed?”
“No way!”
A hand pressed down on Andrea’s head, stopping her from inching any closer with her bothersome antics.
Ailaira stared toward the mansion’s entrance, as if waiting for something to appear. “Even if you left the Royal Palace, there’s no way you could escape the Church’s surveillance and get out of the Royal Capital. But you didn’t just pull it off—you showed up in front of me so quickly. You used the Church’s internal Teleportation Array, didn’t you?”
Before Trinis could reply, a cold smirk curled at Ailaira’s lips as she answered her own question. “I see, it was Vista helping you from the shadows.”
“After I was dismissed, she took your place as Guardian of the Holy See. Only she could help you slip past the Pope’s gaze and activate the Teleportation Formation to the nearest Church.”
All Trinis could do was give a wry smile, unconsciously moving a little closer to Ailaira, her admiration sincere. “As expected, nothing can be hidden from Miss Ailaira. Yes, Miss Vista was a huge help in this reckless adventure of mine. But in return, I’ve taken on some responsibility too.”
Trinis reluctantly shifted her gaze to Andrea, curiosity glimmering in her eyes. “Vista asked me to see for her what kind of woman could actually stay by Miss Ailaira’s side. I didn’t expect that person would be you, Your Excellency.”
Hearing herself mentioned, Andrea perked up and began introducing herself with excitement. “It’s finally my turn! Hmph, my name’s Andrea, and my current goal is to defeat this woman!”
Andrea pointed her little finger at Ailaira.
Trinis enthusiastically clapped for her, making a cheering gesture to support Andrea’s grand ambition. “That’s quite the impressive goal, Your Excellency. You’ll have to give it your all.”
“Wow, you’re actually cheering for me! Trinis, I’m starting to really like you!”
With just a single innocent line, the pure Princess had already won over the big-hearted Red Dragon.
Trinis seemed to have shifted her focus to Andrea, and in just a few sentences, she had the dragon so flustered she didn’t know which way was up.
All the while, Trinis’s eyes never left Ailaira, watching her every move out of the corner of her eye.
Ailaira ignored her blatant covetousness, motioned for a servant to bring her another wine glass, but this time, she couldn’t enjoy her drink with her usual ease.
The wine tasted bitter as it slid down her throat.
Ailaira narrowed her eyes, calculating that those troublesome people should be arriving any moment now.
The very next second, the heavy doors of the lavish mansion were blasted open.
The iron doors soared through the air and smashed into the wall, knocking out the nearby receptionist in fright.
As the guards in the courtyard hurried to gather before the entrance, eight fully armored knights strode into view, clad in silver gleaming armor, swords and axes at the ready.
There were no insignias to mark their status on their armor, and their faces were completely hidden by helmets, impossible to identify.
Yet the oppressive murderous aura they exuded left the defending guards almost unable to breathe, their hands slick with sweat as they gripped their weapons.
The lead knight stepped forward, wasting no time on pleasantries or grand declarations.
In a flash of lightning, the knight’s figure seemed to vanish from sight.
The next instant, the poised guards toppled over as if felled by a breeze, collapsing unconscious to the ground, while the unstoppable knights strode over them and advanced further in.
Suddenly, as if sensing something, the knights all looked up in unison toward the rooftop.
Trinis was standing there, and beside her, that breathtakingly beautiful, noble woman—
“Ailaira Green! You again!”
“The Saintess who has already been stripped of her title—are you planning to do something to Her Highness the Princess again?!”
The Knight Captain let out a furious roar, brandishing her longsword without hesitation.
The sword energy, imbued with the magic of [Cutting], carried her own tremendous force, slashing through the air like a streak of moonlight, radiating a chilling intent toward the enemy.
In the blink of an eye, the white sword energy hurtled toward Ailaira.
Its power was controlled with precision, careful not to harm Trinis, focusing every ounce of force on Ailaira.
Andrea’s dragon eyes narrowed to slits in an instant, tracking the attack aimed at Ailaira. The pressure it contained made her skin tingle with pain.
She wanted to help Ailaira dodge, but her body simply couldn’t react in time—she could only watch helplessly as Ailaira stood unmoving and was struck by the white light.
With a single blow, half of the balcony where Ailaira stood crumbled to rubble and crashed to the ground, her figure vanishing into the billowing dust.
But the Knight Captain didn’t dare to let her guard down.
Tense and alert, she searched for Ailaira’s presence with her senses—when suddenly, she looked up sharply.
There was Ailaira, sitting cross-legged in midair, swirling her wine glass, shards of broken Ritual Magic glittering like stardust as they drifted down from the sky.
From her lofty vantage, Ailaira looked down with disdain, making the Knight Captain seethe with humiliation.
She gripped her sword tightly and pointed it at the witch above the night sky:
“If I cannot take the Princess back from you, then this life is meaningless.”
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