Morris had previously either been a prisoner or in such a pitiful state that he couldn’t even move, to the point where Doreenía had almost forgotten.
The man standing before her looked like nothing more than a handsome pretty-boy, but in truth, he was one of the most famous knights in the world.
He was one of the rare few recognized by the Holy Church with the title of Holy Knight while still alive, acknowledged for his achievements.
Though Doreenía herself wasn’t a knight, she had received strict noble education and had heard rumors about Morris early on, holding deep respect and admiration for this knight who defended the weak and pursued justice.
The reason she, a Noblewoman, was willing to infiltrate the enemy queen’s side in person, could be said to be entirely because of Morris’s influence.
She had thought that she’d finally come into her own.
But it seemed she still couldn’t compare to this Holy Knight.
Even so, Doreenía still had her pride, and this was her turf—she couldn’t allow Morris to only see her disgraceful side.
Thus, she closed her eyes, adjusted her breathing, suppressed her unnecessary shyness and girlish heart, and returned to her usual dependable and serious demeanor.
When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, her aquamarine pupils, matching her hair, had regained their sharp and cold gleam.
“…I understand. Let’s just call it the responsibility of both sides, and leave it at that. Please follow me. Lingering in one spot for too long would only arouse suspicion.”
As she watched his back, Morris heard her stern and indisputable voice.
This made Morris turn around in surprise.
What he saw was none other than the confident back of the Captain of the Queen’s Special Forces, who had turned away after tossing out those words.
The air of an immature young girl from before had completely vanished, replaced by her usual gallant, commanding presence.
Morris had thought she was the type who only appeared mature, but was actually a girl at heart—hence why he’d instinctively tried to protect her.
It seemed he’d been overthinking things.
This lady spy had never needed his protection in the first place.
Realizing this, Morris smiled in relief, then quickly caught up to her.
After all, the more mature and reliable Doreenía was, the safer Morris’s own position became.
This palace was indeed vast—it was no wonder Elvira had let Doreenía spend an entire day showing him around.
If it was just a simple walk, there’d be no need for so much time. But at every spot, Morris would stop to carefully observe, then ask Doreenía some questions.
Elvira trusted Doreenía as one of her own and wouldn’t have expected her to cooperate with Morris so thoroughly, which was why she’d been so generous in letting him roam freely.
However, to show her sincerity in recruiting Morris, Doreenía did her utmost to satisfy his need for information.
In this way, the two wandered and chatted all the way until about one in the afternoon, by which point Morris had gathered considerable intelligence on the palace.
Such as which areas had the lightest daily security, the times when patrol numbers changed, basic information about the high officials who worked in the palace, and when and where Elvira would usually appear.
This intelligence greatly increased Morris’s chances of escape.
Of course, that was only if Morris actually wanted to escape.
“…I see. So Elvira’s rule isn’t flawless after all. That’s only natural—there’s never been a king who could satisfy everyone. By the way, Miss Doreenía, what do you usually do? It can’t be just a personal hobby of hers, right?”
The two of them had arrived at a corridor in the Courtyard. Since there was no one else nearby, Morris continued to probe for more information.
This time, he wanted to know the main duties of the Queen’s Special Forces led by Doreenía.
In his view, there was no real need to set up such a unit. Wouldn’t it be simpler just to let Doreenía serve as a regular knight commander?
Could it be that Elvira disliked the very notion of knights and thus formed a special forces unit that wasn’t made up of knights, just because he himself was a knight?
“My duties aren’t fixed. If that woman doesn’t issue any orders, I just train the members as usual and wait for her commands at any moment.”
“And those commands might sometimes be secret investigations of certain nobles, sometimes bodyguard work, or even just simple errands. Basically, I’m that woman’s dog. Whatever she wants done, I do. The members don’t even find this problematic—in fact, they feel honored. Perhaps, in their eyes, being her dog is the greatest honor.”
As the wind blowing in her face scattered her prominent twin-tails, Doreenía tidied her hair, her face expressionless as she spoke.
She couldn’t fathom what personal charm Elvira possessed—she was nothing but a woman selfish to the extreme.
Yet, in order to join her Special Forces, some upright women whom Doreenía truly admired would even bribe her, the Captain, just to have a few good words spoken on their behalf before Elvira.
It irritated her to no end.
“After all, if there’s one thing Elvira has, it’s an impeccable appearance and Magical Talent.”
Seeing Doreenía’s apparent dissatisfaction, Morris merely smiled wryly as he watched her fix her hair, then looked out at the view of the Courtyard.
A powerful, beautiful queen—that alone was enough.
But after hearing Doreenía’s explanation, he understood: this so-called Special Forces was nothing more than a group of lower-ranking, more obedient knights.
They didn’t have the glory of true knights, yet were required to obey the queen’s every order without question.
Ordinary knights, when their liege erred, would at least try to remonstrate. But it was clear that not even Doreenía, as Captain, had that right—let alone her members.
Still, Morris felt a bit relieved.
It seemed Doreenía was the only foreign spy. Thankfully, the whole Special Forces wasn’t made up of them.
Otherwise, who knew what reckless acts they might commit, leading to premature exposure.
Morris thought it was better for Doreenía to continue lying low for now. There was no way to overthrow Elvira’s rule yet.
“…That’s pretty much all there is to my work. By the way, Sir Morris, when are you planning to escape? I’d like to return your weapon in advance.”
Having retied her twin-tails with a hairband, Doreenía dropped her hands and looked at Morris beside her with a grave expression.
Morris’s holy sword wasn’t in her direct care, but was kept in the Treasure Vault.
But with his status, he could easily steal it back.
Once he had his holy sword, his chance of escape would rise dramatically. As long as he didn’t face a monster like Elvira head-on, even without magic he could rely on his astounding physical strength to get away.
Doreenía was still hoping for Morris to return home and inform Queen Fastar of the truth, so that Fastar and her country could join forces against Elvira.
What she didn’t know was that, right now, Morris absolutely could not go back—otherwise, Fastar might erupt into civil strife first.
So Morris could only bow his head, feigning deep thought, and with a trace of melancholy in his voice, cunningly replied:
“No, I can’t. If I escape, Elvira will only become more deranged. Who knows how many more innocent people might get hurt. So I won’t run away—at least, not for now.”