After Sivelind left, her hunger sated from her secret feast, Maurice, still unable to move, was left with a complicated mix of emotions.
He didn’t really mind the matter of being slept with while unconscious; after all, he hadn’t suffered any loss.
What bothered him was the woman’s attitude—whether she could truly act as if nothing had ever happened, just as she had claimed.
If not, Elvira might find out, and that could spark a needless commotion.
The fact that the woman could enter Elvira’s chambers so casually meant her status in this country was certainly not low; at the very least, she must be a confidante of the queen.
And yet, such a woman dared to risk incurring the wrath of her jealous, possessive queen just to sleep with him—leaving him with a lingering, passionate kiss before departing. It was hard for Maurice to believe she would stop at just once.
Maurice, owing to his appearance, temperament, and behavior, was often confessed to by women. But it was the first time someone had confessed to him after taking advantage, only to ask him to pretend it never happened.
The more he pondered, the more Maurice felt he should find a chance to talk with her.
Fortunately, her voice was quite distinctive—that blend of cold indifference and ethereal clarity was unforgettable after just one encounter.
It shouldn’t be too hard to find her.
But come to think of it, Elvira actually had a subordinate who, knowing full well the queen’s intense jealousy and possessiveness, still dared to sneak a taste of the queen’s “property.”
Did that mean Elvira was unusually lenient toward her subordinates?
Perhaps her people felt that, even if they slipped up and were exposed, it wouldn’t be all that terrible?
A magnanimous and generous Elvira—Maurice really couldn’t picture it.
This was a woman who’d borne a grudge for three years over a rejected confession. What was there left to say?
While Maurice was lost in thought, he faintly heard the sound of the door being pushed open once more.
But the newcomer still wasn’t Elvira.
The door opened and closed swiftly, the person darting into the room in a flash.
This left Maurice momentarily stunned.
That was neither the movement of the room’s mistress, Elvira, nor the behavior expected of a maid serving her.
Could it be that the woman from before had returned, realizing Elvira wouldn’t be coming back any time soon, so she’d come for him again?!
Maurice really wanted to open his eyes and sit up to see who had barged in.
But no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t open his eyes; he could only listen as the hurried footsteps drew closer and closer.
The good news was, the sound of the footsteps was different—these sounded like tall high-heeled boots, so it probably wasn’t the previous woman, unable to resist coming back for another taste.
The bad news was, this person’s identity was even more suspicious. If it wasn’t the former, then who was this, sneaking into the queen’s room and heading straight for Maurice lying on her bed?
He shouldn’t be in mortal danger, right? He was quite vulnerable right now…
Unable to make sense of the situation, Maurice couldn’t help but worry.
He didn’t want to die in such a haphazard way.
At this point, he actually wished Elvira would return immediately—at least then his safety would be assured.
Just then, as if to dispel Maurice’s anxiety, a stranger’s female voice sounded in his ear.
“Please do not worry, Mr. Maurice. Her Majesty does not intend to take your life—at least, not for now. You may rest easy.”
It was a woman’s voice with the air of a knight.
Crisp and disciplined, she informed Maurice of his situation simply and directly.
…Though, what she said was something Maurice already knew.
What truly mattered was that there was no trace of hostility or murderous intent in her voice, nor was it cold.
Maurice didn’t need to fear being killed by her… unless she was a top assassin for whom murder was as effortless as drinking water.
But that shouldn’t be the case… right?
“Ah, forgive me, I should have introduced myself first. My public identity is something you’ll learn in time, so I’ll tell you my true one. I am from House Norskar of the Kingdom of Ilent. I am currently in hiding, seeking to overthrow the Witch Queen Elvira’s rule and reclaim the territory lost by the Kingdom of Ilent.”
???
Wait, what? A spy from a third country? It was reassuring that she wasn’t an assassin, but what was with her being a spy from a third country?
How on earth did a spy from an enemy country sneak into the queen’s bedchamber?
Maurice had been worrying about his own safety, only for the other party to suddenly declare she was actually a spy from a third country.
Maurice found this utterly unbelievable.
If she was lying, she might just be trying to win his trust for some ulterior motive.
But if she was telling the truth, that was even more outrageous—why reveal such a secret to him, a knight from a third country?
Of course Maurice knew of the Kingdom of Ilent. It was quite close to his homeland, and had fought wars with Dratenia, ruled by Elvira’s predecessor, losing some territory.
If he remembered correctly, House Norskar was a noble family of the Kingdom of Ilent. For the daughter of a noble from a third country to personally infiltrate the enemy state—now that was rare indeed.
So what was her aim in saying all this?
“You must be puzzled by my sudden confession. I apologize for being so abrupt. In fact, I wanted you to know that I am your ally. When it comes to opposing Her Majesty… Elvira, we are on the same side. I will find a way to help you escape Elvira’s clutches.”
Ah, so that’s it. She wants him to return to Fastar and inform its queen of the situation, so Fastar will send troops to confront Dratenia together.
That’s not surprising, not surprising at all.
After hearing her words, Maurice felt much more at ease.
He knew there was something odd about her self-revelation—so this was the reason.
Now it all made sense.
Whether Fastar’s queen would dispatch troops just because he’d been kidnapped by Elvira, Maurice wasn’t so sure.
But even if she didn’t, as long as Maurice returned safely to Fastar, it would strain relations between the two countries—a boon for the third nation, no doubt.
…Wait, something still felt off.
If this information was so important, why reveal it now?
Wouldn’t it be better to talk about this while he was awake, when they could actually discuss specifics?
Was there some reason she had to say this while he was incapacitated?
…Could it be…
As this thought occurred to him, Maurice was struck by a very bad premonition.
“…What I’m about to say next has nothing to do with what I just told you. It’s a personal request. If I’m not mistaken, you don’t have a lover, do you? So even if I kiss you now, there shouldn’t be any woman to object, right?”
Damn it! His bad premonition had come true!
How could she say such things in such a serious, proper tone!
No woman might object, but he certainly did!
What about his feelings!?