When Roland and Sif opened the door to the conference hall, it was just noon.
Sunlight broke through the clouds, dyeing the earth in gold.
This was the long-lost bright sunshine of Sussex.
But to Roland, no sunshine was as bright as Sif's smile.
In the conference hall, he and Sif opened their hearts to each other, clearing up all misunderstandings.
Regarding the private arrangement with Alina, Sif smiled and said she didn't mind.
Roland, of course, wouldn't mind Sif's distress over not daring to reveal her identity.
Sif also didn't mind Roland's ambition to seize power.
After all, he was helping her.
He didn't even know that Sif was Sylph.
Moreover, the idea of playing a simulated game of usurpation seemed thrilling.
Sif's fair face turned a bright red at the thought of seizing the throne through her own abilities, filled with eager excitement.
Roland didn't escort Sif home as he had other matters to attend to.
He could only see Sif off to the carriage.
