At the moment the battle began, Feyos had resolved to die.
Yet, when the knight approached with his sword, the blood drained from the girl's face. The knight looked at her, apologetically within, "Miss Feyos, I'm sorry, don't blame us, it's Lord Praetor's order." With those words, he raised his sword, the blade reflecting the firelight, casting a lingering glow.
Feyos closed her eyes tightly and turned her head away. She still had two chances of resurrection, but surely there were Praetor's men in the Holy Sanctuary; in this era where royal and divine power are interwoven, unless it's the indifferent Lady Ameya, no other sanctuary would shelter a criminal.
She kept her eyes closed, replaying in her mind the scene where Young Master Enan took the blame for her.
She thought that perhaps this was the last time the two would meet.
Farewell then, Modkaesar Family, Young Master Enan.
Her tightly shut eyes couldn't stop the tears from escaping—
