He quietly murmured along with a sigh.
Because it was already too late to turn back.
“…Please, as Your Highness Vilteon wishes.”
And with that, even the last hope turned away.
“Ah, no!”
The knight’s hand grasped the arm of the wailing woman. Iris wasn’t strong enough to overcome that firm grip, and the sound of her being dragged while struggling continued like a trail.
“No, no… I, not like this! Brother Vilteon! Sir Ian…!”
That was the end.
The maids and guards also kept silent and soon vacated the place. They, too, couldn’t feel at ease seeing the lord they served end up like that.
The only ones left in the room were two men.
One of them, Vilteon, covered his face with one hand and let out a long sigh.
It was a lament tinged with regret.
“From childhood, she was frail and sickly, always confined to her bed. And the palace never spares a glance for a weak child… It only pursues power.”
Ian decided to silently listen to Vilteon’s remorse. Thinking that this, too, was a burden a knight of the empire must bear.
“Iris was always alone. In that cold…