Chapter 33: Lyle’s Probe

The second prince.

Abel immediately rose to his feet, ready to bow—although he held no goodwill toward the royal family, basic etiquette still had to be followed.

“No need for formalities.” 

Lyle extended a hand in a polite gesture to stop him. 

“I only came to apologize once more on behalf of my willful little sister.”

His attitude was sincere and natural, carrying none of the usual royal arrogance.

Abel sat back down and motioned for Lyle to take a seat as well.

Seeing this, Aiko stood up obediently, curtsied, and quietly withdrew to the side.

“Your Highness is too kind,” Abel said calmly. “Her Highness the Princess has already apologized. The matter is in the past.”

“But the harm she caused cannot be undone,” Lyle sighed. 

“As her elder brother, I bear responsibility as well. I failed to guide her properly, allowing her to develop such an arrogant and spoiled character.”

Abel offered no reply.

Lyle did not mind and continued. 

“In truth, Father holds you in high esteem. Had you not refused so firmly, he originally planned to grant you the real authority of Protector Duke, making you a true pillar of the kingdom.”

Here it comes.

A probe.

Abel sneered inwardly, but his expression remained unchanged. 

“I thank His Majesty for the honor. But I truly have no interest in such things.”

“You really won’t consider it?” Lyle looked at him. 

“Power, status, wealth… these are things countless people can only dream of. You could obtain them with a mere wave of your hand, yet you keep turning them down. Honestly, it puzzles me.”

Abel picked up his wine glass and swirled it gently.

“If I accepted, none of you could truly rest easy, could you?”

Lyle was stunned.

“If I held real military power and a lofty position,” Abel went on, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather, “the royal family and the nobles would lose sleep over it. A powerful man who cannot be controlled is a threat to any ruler. So—if I refuse, you can all sleep soundly at night. Isn’t that right?”

“One Marquis Noct is already more than the kingdom can handle. Adding another would probably be too much.”

Abel added the remark in a light, teasing tone.

Lyle fell silent for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

It was not the fake, aristocratic smile; it was genuine, heartfelt amusement.

“Interesting.” He shook his head. 

“If every genius were as clear-sighted as you, the world would be far simpler.”

Abel smiled as well. 

“I’m no genius. I’m just… a sword.”

“A sword?”

“A sword that is drawn only when it must be drawn, and sheathed when it must be sheathed.” Abel’s voice was soft. 

“My mission is to defeat the enemies that need defeating and save the lives that need saving. Once everything is over, I will quietly disappear. Power and status are nothing but burdens to me.”

Lyle stared straight at him.

Those gentle blue eyes had turned sharp, as if trying to pierce through Abel’s surface and see the true thoughts beneath.

Abel met his gaze calmly, without flinching.

After a long pause, Lyle looked away.

He stood up and bowed deeply to Abel.

“We have behaved beneath ourselves,” his voice was quiet yet carried a peculiar solemnity. 

“I apologize, Young Master Abel. We measured a gentleman’s heart with a villain’s yardstick.”

Abel rose as well. 

“Your Highness is too kind. I am hardly a gentleman—just a wanderer.”

Lyle straightened, then seemed to recall something. 

“By the way, the silver-haired young lady who danced with you earlier… do you know her?”

Abel’s heart skipped a beat. “Your Highness noticed her too?”

“Hard not to.” Lyle gave a wry smile. 

“A person like that stands out like the bright moon on a dark night—impossible to ignore. To be honest, I’ve been making inquiries about her as well.”

“Oh?” Abel tried to keep his voice steady. “Did you learn anything?”

Lyle shook his head. 

“Nothing at all. She appeared out of nowhere—no entry record, no noble identity, and no one even knows how she left.”

He paused, then added meaningfully, “Moreover, I can state with certainty—she is definitely not the daughter of any existing noble house in the kingdom. I checked every list of eligible noble young ladies; none match her description.”

Abel’s heart sank.

Just as he thought…

“So,” Lyle looked at him, “you don’t know who she is either?”

“I don’t,” Abel answered honestly.

Lyle nodded thoughtfully. 

“Then this is truly interesting. A mysterious, impossibly beautiful silver-haired girl suddenly appears at a royal banquet, dances once with you, and vanishes without a trace…”

A sharp glint flashed in his eyes. “There must be quite a story behind her.”

Abel said nothing.

Lyle smiled. “Well, I won’t disturb you any longer. I hope we’ll have the chance to chat properly someday—not as prince and subject, but as individuals.”

“It would be my honor.”

Lyle turned to leave.

After a few steps, he looked back and added, “Oh, and about my sister… she is not bad by nature, merely spoiled. If possible, please give her a chance to prove herself.”

Abel nodded, seeming to accept the request.

Only then did Lyle truly depart.

He walked to the far side of the banquet hall and gazed from afar at Abel, who remained seated in the corner. 

He shook his head gently.

“My dear sister,” he murmured to himself, “you have no chance.”

“The person in his heart… already belongs to someone else.”

***

Ingrid woke in the morning light.

Clear birdsong drifted in through the window. She yawned and sat up. 

The missing parts of her body had been replaced with prosthetic limbs. 

Though they were slightly less responsive than her original ones, Ingrid could not ask for more.

Her vision had returned. 

According to the priestess who had performed the eye transplant, this prosthetic eye was the church’s newest technology!

In addition to normal sight, it provided night vision, mana analysis, and other special abilities, helping Ingrid gain more advantages in battle and detect enemies faster.

For example, right now—even through the wall—her opened right eye could see several figures marked with numbers moving along the corridor outside.

Those numbers represented the other party’s mana level, allowing Ingrid to quickly assess the strength gap between friend and foe.

“Strange. Why hasn’t Aiko come this morning?”

Ingrid murmured. 

After she had been injured, Aiko had come every single morning without fail to bring breakfast and the daily newspaper. 

Although the two of them had argued over that despicable scoundrel, they were childhood best friends after all. 

Once they made up, the quarrel was forgotten.

Only Aiko can bring me even a little warmth.

After her parents died, she had felt she possessed nothing.

Yet the voices drifting in from outside the door caught her attention—

“Oh my, I really envy Aiko! She gets to stay right beside the Hero! I heard the archbishop herself recommended her as the next saintess!”

“Yeah, yeah! The Hero saved the entire royal capital in one stroke. They say he’s a noble, selfless hero who doesn’t chase fame or fortune! So much better than those greasy-haired noble pretty boys!”

“Aiko is so blessed. The divine prophecy says ‘The saintess will be the Hero’s lover!’ Ah, Ingrid?!”