The cool wind blowing off the ramparts carried the acrid scent of wrought iron and stone damp with morning dew, but it wasn't enough to sweep away the suffocating tightness clutching Hayjin's chest. Left alone on the main walkway, he watched Wilder's silhouette gradually vanish behind the elegant arches of the rose arcade.
The boy let out a long sigh, running both hands over his face in a gesture of profound exhaustion. His mind burned from the analytical strain.
"Sure, all the clues point to him..." Hayjin thought, his inner voice grim and stripped of illusion. "He knows the layout of my room, he knows how to navigate the night guards' blind spots, he carries a concealed weapon perfectly consistent with the wound that killed me, and he even tried to lure me to an isolated spot outside the walls. But the truth is, I don't have a single shred of hard evidence. No witnesses, no items left at the crime scene nothing that would stand up before a court or Princess Zhilian."
Hayjin clenched his jaw, tightening his fists inside his jacket pockets. Openly accusing an elite royal knight of Wilder's caliber beloved by the guards and revered by the sages based solely on intuition and the memory of a "loop" no one would ever believe was real would be political and social suicide. He would be the one ending up in chains on charges of madness or treason.
"What if I've made a massive blunder?"
Doubt crept slyly into his thoughts.
"What if Wilder is simply an exceptionally skilled, paranoid knight accustomed to memorizing every tactical detail of wherever he stays? After all, there's another person in here who has never done anything to hide her visceral hatred for me."
His thoughts turned immediately to Riko.
Princess Wren's personal housekeeper. From the very first day Hayjin crossed the threshold of the royal palace, Riko had treated him like a thorn in her side. Her looks were not merely distant or cold; they were steeped in toxic distrust, a poorly concealed repulsion. There had never been a moment when that woman crossed his path without sizing him up as if he were a parasite intruding upon a pristine garden.
"Riko has access to every corner of the castle," Hayjin reflected, rearranging the puzzle pieces in his mind. "She knows the keys, has Princess Wren's blind trust, moves the servants like pawns, and can wander around at any hour of the night under the pretense of her household duties. If anyone has a motive to eliminate me quietly to 'cleanse' the court of an unwanted element, it's her."
Determined not to waste another second and to put Riko's position under scrutiny before the day progressed any further, Hayjin turned to head back toward the castle's inner wings.
"Hayjin! Hayjin!"
A bright, pure voice, completely devoid of malice, abruptly shattered his train of paranoid thoughts.
Hayjin stopped in his tracks. Turning around, he saw little Princess Wren heading toward him with infectious energy. Her childish face was lit up by a brilliant smile, her cheeks flushed rosy from rushing, while her noble garments fluttered lightly with every step.
Before Hayjin could even manage a reaction or step back to keep his distance, the girl reached him and took his hand decisively, wrapping her tiny fingers around his stiff palm.
"I finally found you!" Wren exclaimed, panting slightly from running, her eyes shining with uncontrollable excitement. "Come with me, hurry! You absolutely have to come with me!"
Hayjin was caught off guard by the sudden contact. He looked down at her, trying to keep his tone calm and neutral despite the urgency eating away at his stomach.
"Princess Wren..." Hayjin said, offering a slight bow and gently attempting to free his hand, though failing as the girl held on with unexpected stubbornness. "What's wrong? Is something the matter?"
"Nothing's wrong quite the opposite!" Wren replied, tugging him gently toward the inner garden. "I want to show you what I learned to do with magic! Master taught me a new incantation to condense light on flower petals and make them glow at night! I tried looking for everyone so I could show someone, but unfortunately everyone's busy with other things. Zhilian is in talks with the sages, Wilder had to get ready for patrol, and Riko vanished on her errands... I think... You're the only one left! Come on, please!"
Hayjin stared at the girl's innocent face. Deep down, his certainty was absolute: knowing full well she could never have killed him since Wren possessed neither the physical strength nor the ruthless nature required for such a gruesome crime it was impossible to harbor malice or suspicion toward her.
However, right now he had no time to waste playing games or spectating minor children's spells. Every wasted minute was a minute handed to the assassin to cover their tracks or prepare the next strike.
Hayjin crouched down slightly to bring himself to eye level with Wren, looking at her with a softened yet firm expression.
"Princess Wren, thank you so much for thinking of me," he said in a warm, gentle voice. "Unfortunately, I really can't come with you right now. I have an urgent and important task to take care of, and I can't afford to be delayed."
Little Wren's face fell instantly, her lips twisting into a small, disappointed pout. "Oh... really? But it'll only take a minute..."
Seeing the girl's disappointment while simultaneously recalling the critical state another person in the castle was in, Hayjin had an epiphany.
"Isabelle..." Hayjin thought. "She's still locked in her room, terrified, steeped in darkness and the traumatic memory of her own death. Staying trapped in that cramped, suffocating space will only make her worse, feeding her paranoia and panic attacks. Getting some fresh air in the garden and spending time with a bright, cheerful child like Wren could help her immensely to regain control of herself."
Hayjin offered the princess a soft smile, gently patting her head.
"Listen, Wren," he told her. "I really can't, but I know someone who would be thrilled to come see your magic. If you like... Isabelle can go with you."
Wren's eyes widened, and the sadness vanished from her face in a flash, replaced by renewed interest. "Lady Isabelle? Really? But isn't she always so serious and busy?"
"She needs a break today," Hayjin explained, standing back up. "Wait for me here in the courtyard. I'll go fetch her from her room right now and bring her to you. Promise me you'll treat her well."
"Promised! Go get her, hurry!" the girl cheered, clapping her hands with joy.
Hayjin set off at a brisk pace toward the servants' quarters in the east wing.
He traversed the long, silent corridors, keeping his ears peeled for any unusual sound, until he arrived before the dark wooden door of Isabelle's room.
He stepped closer and used the agreed knocking pattern, gently tapping knuckle against wood.
"Isabelle? It's me, Hayjin. Open the door."
No answer came from within.
Only a thick, still silence.
Hayjin frowned, concern tightening his chest. He tried turning the bronze handle slowly, and to his immense surprise, the latch gave way without resistance. The door swung open with a faint creak.
"She didn't lock it...?" he wondered with a shiver of anxiety.
Stepping into the room revealed an environment bathed in protective gloom. The heavy, dark velvet drapes were drawn almost completely shut, allowing only thin shafts of golden light to pierce the hovering dust motes.
In the center of the room, lying on the small corner bed with her slightly rumpled housekeeper uniform still on, was Isabelle.
The girl was asleep. Her face, usually so composed and rigid, now appeared marked by devastating exhaustion.
Her dark eyelashes were still damp with dried tears, and her breathing was labored, agitated by invisible nightmares that continued to torment her even in slumber.
Hayjin breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing her safe and sound. He approached the bed with quiet footsteps so as not to startle her, reaching out a hand toward her shoulder.
"Isabelle..." he murmured softly, gently touching her arm. "Isabelle, wake up..."
The physical contact acted like an electric shock to the girl's hypersensitive nervous system.
Isabelle bolted upright with a violent jump, terrified out of her wits, a small muffled cry escaping her throat while her hands blindly reached for something to defend herself with, her eyes wide and glassy with pure, primal terror.
"No! No, please! Leave me...!"
"Hey, hey! Calm down! It's me! It's Hayjin!" the boy intervened immediately, gently taking her wrists to stop her desperate flailing, speaking in an incredibly firm and reassuring tone. "Look at me, Isabelle! Look at my face! It's Hayjin you're safe!"
Isabelle froze in that position for a second that felt like an eternity, her chest heaving wildly, her lungs desperately gasping for air. Slowly, the fog of terror began to dissolve from her dark eyes, allowing her to bring the features of the boy sitting beside her into focus.
"Hay... Hayjin...?" the girl stammered, her voice cracked and trembling.
"Yes, it's me," he said, loosening his grip on her wrists and offering a look filled with genuine empathy. "It's alright. No one is hurting you."
At that precise instant, Isabelle's emotional dam broke completely.
Without thinking, driven by a visceral need for protection and the terror of isolation that had consumed her until then, the girl leaned forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Her slender arms wrapped around Hayjin's neck and shoulders with unexpected, almost desperate strength, burying her face against the boy's shoulder. Her body shook with violent tremors as warm tears began to soak into the fabric of Hayjin's jacket.
"Hayjin... oh gods, Hayjin..." Isabelle sobbed, holding him even tighter as if he were the sole anchor in a sea of madness. "I was so scared... When I closed my eyes I felt that cold again... that blade... I... I thought you had died again, that you had left me here alone in this nightmare..."
Hayjin was caught off guard for a moment by the intensity of the hug, but he didn't hesitate. He returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around the girl's back and gently stroking her hair to soothe her shaking.
"I'm here, Isabelle. I'm alive and I'm fine," he whispered near her ear with extreme gentleness. "No one is dead. We're still in the present."
Isabelle eased her grip slightly, yet remained mere inches from his face, her hands still tightly gripping the lapels of his jacket. Her dark eyes, glistening with tears, searched his desperately.
"Promise me..." she whispered brokenly, her lips trembling with emotion. "Promise me that everything will be alright... Tell me we'll stop this madness. I don't want to be left alone again, Hayjin... Never again. Please, promise me you'll stay with me..."
The weight of that request was immense, but Hayjin didn't falter for a single second.
He knew what it meant to feel isolated in the tragedy of a time loop; he knew the abyss of solitude that devoured the soul when one was the only person who remembered their own death.
Holding her securely, Hayjin reassured her, looking into her eyes with absolute resolve.
"Everything is going to be alright, Isabelle. I swear it on everything I hold dear," he said with disarming sincerity. "We'll find whoever did this and end the loop. And I promise I will never leave you alone again. We're in this together, from the very first second to the last."
Those words acted like a miraculous balm on the wounds of Isabelle's soul. Her ragged breathing began to slow, the tremor in her hands gradually subsided, and a spark of hope and immense gratitude resurfaced in her eyes.
"Thank you..." she whispered, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. "Thank you, Hayjin."
"Come on now," the boy said, standing up and extending a hand to help her off the bed. "There's a little someone in the garden who really needs you right now. Getting some fresh air will do you good instead of staying cooped up in here."
Isabelle took his hand without hesitation. She smoothed down her skirt with a quick, uncertain gesture, and they left the room holding hands, her fingers intertwined with his in a firm, protective grip as if fearing that moving even a meter away would cause him to vanish into thin air.
Hand in hand, the two walked down the long corridor of the upper gallery at a slow, steady pace. Isabelle kept her gaze fixed on the floor, attempting to gather her thoughts, while Hayjin continued monitoring their surroundings with extreme caution.
As they passed beneath the massive colonnade overlooking the noble wing, Hayjin sensed a presence above them.
Glancing slightly upward toward the upper-floor balcony, he caught sight of the solemn figure of Sage Arkon.
The elderly sage stood near the marble balustrade, his elegant golden robes catching the sunlight.
He watched Hayjin and Isabelle from afar with an impassive face, his austere features free of tension. But as their eyes met for a brief moment across the open gallery, Arkon's rigid expression softened imperceptibly, giving way to a calm, serene, and contented look as if seeing the two young people supporting each other through such obvious hardship brought him profound inner relief.
Arkon offered a slight, almost imperceptible nod toward Hayjin before stepping back into the gloom of his chambers.
"Arkon..." Hayjin thought without slowing his pace. "He seems genuine in his demeanor as well. But I must stay vigilant."
Continuing down the path, Hayjin led Isabelle to the entrance of the inner courtyard, where little Princess Wren was patiently waiting beside a marble basin filled with clear water.
The moment she spotted the two figures emerging from the colonnade, Wren lit up with a radiant smile. She ran to meet them, but slowed her pace as soon as she caught sight of Isabelle's appearance: the fresh tear tracks on her cheeks, her pale complexion, and her fragile, hesitant posture.
The girl stopped a step short of them. Her usual exuberance transformed instantly into a sweet, innate maternal care.
Wren leaned down toward a nearby flowerbed, wrapped her tiny fingers around the stem of a golden flower tinged with blue, and plucked it with great care. She approached Isabelle, extended her hands, and gave her the flower, placing it gently between her trembling fingers.
"This is for you, Lady Isabelle," the little princess said in a sweet, crystal-clear voice.
Before Isabelle could even formulate a word of thanks, the child stepped closer and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist, hugging her with all the affection she possessed to make her feel better.
Isabelle gasped in surprise. Feeling the child's pure, selfless warmth combined with the fresh fragrance of the flower in her hand broke through the final lingering chill around her heart.
Wren released her embrace, smiled with infinite sweetness, and took her hand, gently pulling her toward the center of the garden.
"Come with me," the child said in a reassuring tone. "I'll show you a beautiful magic spell that will make all the flowers glow! You'll love it!"
This small act of genuine warmth made Isabelle feel noticeably better. For the first time after hours of sheer terror, the housekeeper offered a faint, sincere smile, a touch of color returning to her cheeks.
"Alright, Princess..." Isabelle said, her voice finally serene and relaxed. "Let me come see your magic."
Hayjin watched them walk off toward the lawn with a deep sense of relief. Isabelle was safe now, surrounded by Wren's innocence and under the watchful gaze of the patrol guards in the main plaza.
Left alone at last, Hayjin decided to rest for a moment to figure out his next move.
He walked toward the shaded perimeter of the courtyard and sat on a carved stone bench beneath a large archway.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the wind cool his damp forehead.
He needed to assemble the pieces of this twisted puzzle:
Wilder was the suspect with the most obvious physical and tactical capabilities, but there was no concrete proof to accuse him without risking his own life.
Arkon appeared to be a benevolent onlooker, yet his position of power meant he was still a wild card not to be underestimated.
Riko remained the most toxic enigma in the entire palace. If Wilder hadn't acted personally, Riko could be the executioner or the mastermind behind the attack, driven by the unwarranted malice she had harbored since day one.
As he reflected deeply on what step to take next, a creeping sense of unease forced his eyes open.
Guided by primal instinct, Hayjin raised his eyes toward the royal palace's main facade, locking onto the tall, arched windows of the noble wing on the second floor.
There, partially concealed behind the heavy, dark velvet curtain of one of the windows, was Riko.
The housekeeper was staring intently down at him from the window in a strange, almost frightening manner. Her dark eyes were narrowed into slits of shadow, her face rigid and unexpressionless like a wax mask. She didn't blink; she simply stared down at Hayjin with an intensity laden with resentment, suspicion, and a calculating coldness that made the hairs on the boy's arms stand on end.
Hayjin didn't avert his eyes, holding that long-distance eye contact for several seconds.
The moment she realized Hayjin had spotted her, Riko took a slow step backward, lightly drawing the curtain to obscure her figure before vanishing into the dim interior of the room.
Hayjin stood up immediately from the stone bench, his joints popping from tension.
"What the fuck was she looking at? And why was she staring at me like that?" Hayjin thought, anger and resolve overpowering his fatigue. "It's time to get to the bottom of this. I need to figure out what that woman is hiding."
He decided to move at once and tail her to unearth whatever was going on.
As he quickened his pace toward the main entrance of the palace, Hayjin's eyes were drawn to an unusual movement near the massive bronze gate of the outer wall.
Wilder was departing the castle alongside four other elite knights of the royal guard. All were in full ceremonial armor, their horses draped in Opes colors, prepared for a long-range patrol outside the city. Wilder led the contingent, laughing and joking with his men as they crossed the drawbridge, departing the castle grounds for the next few hours.
"Wilder is out of the picture for now," Hayjin analyzed, watching the squad of knights ride away at a trot. "That leaves the field completely open for Riko."
Hayjin darted inside the castle, taking the broad marble staircases to reach the floor where Riko had been watching him. Moving with utmost discretion, he kept his body flush against the stone walls, utilizing the recesses behind tapestries and statues to conceal his presence.
What Hayjin hadn't anticipated in the slightest, however, was that at that very moment, another pair of attentive eyes was watching him.
Not far from the inner courtyard entrance, Princess Zhilian had paused beneath a portico to confer with one of the garrison messengers. She had noticed Hayjin's strange, secretive behavior from the beginning: his tense walk with Wilder, the almost desperate urgency with which he had retrieved Isabelle, and above all, the obsessive, guarded manner in which he eyed the palace windows.
Seeing Hayjin dash into the castle on Riko's trail with blind determination painted across his face, Zhilian abruptly dismissed the messenger.
The princess watched Hayjin for a long moment, her brow furrowed in deep concern and curiosity, and decided to stalk him in secret moving like a feline shadow behind his footsteps to uncover what on earth her personal knight was up to.