“……”
After casting one last glance at the gray-haired man who had never once opened his eyes, Sivellinde quietly began walking out of the room.
She wasn’t purposely trying to lower her footsteps—this was simply how she always walked.
If she wished, she could move without making a sound at all.
But today, there was no need for such measures.
As she made her way to the door, Sivellinde’s figure appeared in the full-length mirror that stood beside Elvira.
The woman reflected in the glass wore a black combat dress that was both elegant and functional, with matching black high-heeled boots. Her vibrant crimson hair floated softly with her movements.
Near the top of her long, elf-like ears curved a pair of draconic horns. The beauty mark beneath the corner of her slender eye lent a hint of allure to her otherwise emotionless and exquisite face.
Her reflected profile was slender and ethereal, like a fairy of the night.
Compared to the mirror’s owner, she was slightly taller, though their figures were similar—tall, long-limbed, and strikingly voluptuous. A black single-leg garter pressed gently into her dark stockings, and even though her chest was tightly bound by her outfit, its fullness could not be hidden.
Despite her conservative attire, she emanated an uncanny, almost seductive aura. She looked like a sheltered noble lady, yet possessed the body of a mature woman.
It was the cold and gorgeous presence of a draconic fae—a bewitching, mysterious charm radiated from her entire being.
Of course, the person herself could not see what the mirror revealed; she simply passed by it as usual.
Before long, Sivellinde stepped out of the Queen’s chambers, quietly closing the door behind her.
Whether by coincidence or design, the maid she had earlier instructed to rest appeared at the end of the corridor, perfectly timing her arrival so as to avoid Sivellinde at the door.
“Lady Sivellinde, Lord Morris still hasn’t awakened, has he?”
After approaching to a certain distance, the maid bowed her head respectfully and habitually asked about her work.
“…He won’t wake on his own in his current state. That spell was cast by Her Majesty personally. Of course, there are always exceptions. If he does wake, do your best to meet any needs he has, or tell him to please wait patiently for Her Majesty’s return. Don’t let your guard down. Even without his weapon or magic, a Holy Knight is someone capable of miracles. Never underestimate his presence.”
Looking at the maid, who was completely oblivious to anything unusual, Sivellinde parted her lips, her voice chilly and detached as she cautioned the maid not to grow careless.
“I understand. Then, I’ll continue caring for Lord Morris as assigned. Please go get some rest yourself—thank you for your hard work today.”
Her tone, as always, betrayed no personal feeling, only a rational description of facts. The maid naturally asked no further questions.
She simply bowed again with utmost respect.
Sivellinde was one of the Queen’s three most trusted knights, considered a confidant by any measure. Though she seemed aloof to everyone, those who spent time with her knew she was easy to talk to—her expression simply never showed it.
Many maids had received her care before, and as such, Sivellinde was well respected.
Sivellinde accepted the maid’s respect with only a silent nod before calmly walking past her, betraying not a trace of anything out of the ordinary.
As if she truly had done nothing at all.
The maid, for her part, resumed her professional posture in the corridor, hands folded before her legs, and closed her eyes.
It was 3:30 in the afternoon. Per the Queen’s orders, the shift changed every two hours, meaning she needed only to stand quietly until four o’clock before her shift ended.
This was not difficult—serving the Queen required such dedication, and while strict, the pay was generous. The maids took pride in holding themselves to a higher standard.
Besides, Sivellinde had sent her to rest just forty minutes into her shift today—she’d worked fifty minutes less than usual, so the next half hour would be easy.
But after half an hour, her replacement had not arrived. Instead, someone unexpected did.
A beautiful woman in a special black combat uniform, sporting long teal twin-tails, approached. Despite the youthful hairstyle, there was nothing childish about her.
Her resolute face was full of seriousness, her steps proper and measured. Every inch of her radiated competence and decisiveness.
The twin-tails suited her perfectly—had she chosen a more mature hairstyle, she might have seemed less approachable.
Instead, this lively style softened her image, making her appear much gentler.
All in all, she was a strict, capable, and dignified beauty.
As she strode closer, the maid sensed something was amiss and couldn’t help but ask before the newcomer could even speak:
“Lady Dorinnia, has something urgent happened? Did Her Majesty issue some sudden order?”
It wasn’t impatience; the timing was simply too perfect—her replacement hadn’t come, and now Dorinnia appeared. It was only natural to imagine something had occurred.
“Hmm? No, nothing urgent. I’m here to inform you that Maid Elda, who was supposed to take your shift, was exhausted from helping me and will be delayed by an hour.”
“But since it was my fault Maid Elda can’t come on time, I’ve decided to take over the duty of watching—no, of caring for Holy Knight Morris in her stead. Maid Rufina, please go rest as originally scheduled.”
Dorinnia’s manner was as strict as her reputation suggested—even her speech was precise.
Her earnest, unwavering expression left no room for doubt.
Nor should there be any—the Lady Dorinnia was also one of the Queen’s confidant knights. If she said so, then surely it was with the Queen’s approval.
There was nothing more for the maid to say.
“I understand. Then, please excuse me, Lady Dorinnia.”
The maid had no doubt in Dorinnia’s words. With a simple farewell, she departed to rest.
In truth, Dorinnia was far more reliable than herself for this duty.
If the rumors of the knight’s strength were true, she could hardly hope to stop him if he tried to escape.
But with Dorinnia, there was nothing to worry about—she was one of Her Majesty’s trusted few, her combat abilities unquestioned.
In those teal eyes matching her hair, the maid’s figure receded into the distance.
Even after the maid vanished from sight, Dorinnia did not immediately turn her gaze away.
She remained standing for another five minutes before suddenly looking around suspiciously, checking her surroundings as if worried someone might see her next actions.
After confirming there was indeed no one else, Dorinnia cleared her throat and appeared to return to her usual seriousness, though if one looked closely, a rare blush tinged her cheeks.
Even stranger, a moment ago her hand was merely on the doorknob, but in the next instant, her entire body slipped inside and she locked the door from within with such speed that she left a faint afterimage.
It was only natural that she was so nervous—after all, she was about to secretly savor the Queen’s man.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.