Chapter 68
When Ren stepped out of the office, Scarlett, who had been waiting, held the door for her. She carefully closed it so it wouldn’t make a sound, glancing at her lord’s expression.
Though he sat leaning back in his chair, hand over his eyes, looking as if exhaustion had built up, the corners of his lips were turned upward.
Scarlett shut the door so cautiously that he wouldn’t notice.
By the time she did, Ren already had her hood pulled low. She looked at Scarlett and asked:
“Is it alright?”
“Yes. No one would ever think you’re the Saint.”
Ren let out a small laugh.
“Anyway, no one would ever imagine the Saint sneaks shamelessly in and out of His Highness’s palace.”
With her silver hair and blue eyes—hallmarks of the Saint—covered, she looked like nothing more than an ordinary traveler. Scarlett followed along, escorting her lord instead.
“Stop! Absolutely not today!”
The shout rang out. At the entrance, Keith was snorting while facing off with Mabel.
No, more precisely—Keith was fervently courting Mabel’s head again.
Mabel had clearly used the same perfume as before.
Ren smiled in amusement, while Scarlett muttered softly:
“Thank you sincerely for coming, my lady Saint.”
“…Huh?”
Ren turned back as if she didn’t understand. Scarlett, instead of looking at her, gazed at Mabel struggling with Keith and said:
“His Highness had been agonizing a lot.”
“Agonizing about what?”
Those pure, clueless eyes left even the unflappable Scarlett flustered. She hesitated, then carefully spoke:
“That paper from last time.”
“Oh, that?”
Compared to Scarlett’s nervousness, Ren answered lightly, as if it were nothing.
Scarlett stared at her in surprise.
Ren just shrugged.
“I burned it.”
“…What?”
“I said, I burned it.”
Scarlett’s eyes grew wider and wider.
Ren beamed.
“Threw it in the fire—whoosh.”
She even mimed a flame sparking in her palm, opening and closing her fingers.
It was Scarlett who became unsettled at Ren’s casual words.
“Y-you… burned it?”
For the mighty Scarlett to stammer—Ren blinked at her in surprise.
“You must know what it was, then?”
Oops. Scarlett clapped a hand over her mouth.
She’d been so flustered, she’d slipped.
Fortunately, Ren only smiled as if it were nothing.
“It’s fine. It wasn’t anything important anyway.”
Not important? But His Highness seemed awfully preoccupied with it…
Scarlett thought to herself. She couldn’t bring herself to tell the truth to Ren, who was smiling so brightly.
That after receiving the exact same writing from Mabel, Rix had gone to his mother. That ever since, he’d been gloomy. That because of it, everyone in the palace had been suffering nightly from Lena’s screams, while Mabel was endlessly tormented by Rix.
“Well then, I’ll head out first.”
“Ah, yes! Please take care on your way!”
Even in her confusion, Scarlett did not forget the knight’s virtue of sending someone off properly. Ren dipped her head slightly in return and walked toward Keith. Thankfully, as soon as Ren approached, Keith lost interest in Mabel.
“Ugh…”
Mabel braced her knees, looking drained.
Ren climbed up on Keith’s back with practiced ease.
“You worked hard.”
“Not at all…”
Ren thought she noticed Mabel’s face looked a little thinner than before.
She was about to change the subject when something came to mind.
“Mabel.”
“Yes?”
Ren hesitated, then asked cautiously:
“What did His Highness say when he first saw that paper?”
Mabel’s face darkened even more than when Keith had been harassing her.
Ren wondered if she shouldn’t have asked, but Mabel faltered and answered:
“He didn’t say anything.”
“…I see.”
“He just—”
The former Saint? Or His Highness’s mother?
What name could they even use for the woman everyone secretly referred to only as that person?
“…He brought it to Lady Lena?”
Ren offered the answer for her, and Mabel merely nodded faintly.
Ren tilted her head back, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. Keith stood patiently, waiting.
Ren gripped the reins and looked down, meeting Mabel’s gaze. Her voice was calm, but kind.
“Thank you.”
“…What?”
Mabel blinked, dazed, not understanding. Ren’s lips curved up.
“For the paper.”
“Ah…”
“For bringing it to me first.”
“It was nothing.”
Ren’s gratitude drew a small smile from Mabel too.
Ren turned Keith’s head with the reins, and the horse obediently followed her lead. As Keith flicked his tail, it smacked Mabel’s face.
Coughing and stumbling back, Mabel looked up just as Ren called out brightly:
“See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, see—huh?!”
Mabel, replying automatically, belatedly realized what she’d just heard. Tomorrow?
She tried to stop Ren, but Keith had already carried her out the main gate.
Ren slowed Keith’s pace as they entered the busy plaza. The horse clopped along quietly, steady and relaxed.
They stopped at a small fountain, not far from the square where Ren had once “debuted.”
No one paid any mind to a hooded rider on horseback.
Ren dismounted and perched on the fountain’s edge. Keith stood politely beside her, shielding her from onlookers.
Stroking Keith, Ren loosened her grip on the reins and rolled up her sleeve. From within, she pulled out a sheet of paper, folded into four. Her hand trembled slightly as she unfolded the crumpled sheet.
It was the very paper she had told Scarlett she’d burned.
She hadn’t.
She couldn’t.
Far from avoiding it, she’d looked at it dozens—hundreds of times each day.
The paper was filled with writing in unmistakable Korean, notes related to The Saint’s Dilemma.
They weren’t full drafts, more like scattered thoughts—scribbles from when the author had first imagined the story. Not detailed plots or polished sentences, but “What if it goes this way? Or that way? What if the heroine had this trait?”—that level of ideas.
Ren had hoped to find clues on how to destroy monsters, or how humans turned into monsters might return to their true selves. But there was nothing. It seemed the author hadn’t thought it through that far.
“Well, it was supposed to be just a normal romance fantasy to begin with.”
Ren muttered to herself.
She raised a hand to brush back her hair, then remembered her hood and let it fall.
After smoothing the edge of the paper, she tugged it taut with resolve.
Then, without hesitation, she tore it apart.
Each rip sounded sharp, like a blade being honed.
But Ren calmly tossed the shreds into the fountain.
The scraps fluttered onto the surface, then slowly sank. The ink blurred, the paper turning to mush.
Ren’s lips curved faintly as she watched.
“Still… I’m worried about Lena.”
Watching the paper drift down, she thought of the protagonist of this story—the author—and her son, Rix.
What had Lena done when Rix showed her that paper? Gotten angry? Sad? Nostalgic?
Ren didn’t know. She could only wait. But as time passed, Rix remained silent, and she grew certain.
He had been hurt.
So Ren chose to take the first step. And just then, Sophia had conveniently sent an invitation to her birthday ball.
Ren wanted to show him that she was alright.
That she didn’t want to return to the world she came from.
That this strange game they played together wasn’t so bad.
As the last scraps vanished beneath the water, Ren’s reflection surfaced.
Her hand gently touched her mirrored face.
For Ren, who had once had no friends, no family—this world had given her everything. She wanted Rix to know how much she cherished it.
“Ren.”
A soft, fluttering voice called from behind. Turning, she found Viola smiling brightly.
“Forgive me for calling your name. Too many people pass by here to speak formally.”
Ren grinned and hurried toward her.
Hearing Viola call her “Ren” had sounded so sweet. She shook her head.
“It’s fine! I like it. Please call me Ren when it’s just the two of us.”
“Alright, Ren.”
“By the way, where’s Sophia?”
“She’s already choosing a dress with Mother.”
“Trying to match the dress code?”
Excitement laced Ren’s voice, while Viola’s reply was calm. Keith pricked his ears and trotted after them.
