Upon arriving at the Gardisto Department, Lizzy kept her head bowed so low it nearly brushed her knees. She couldn't bring herself to look up — not when she feared Revanio would see her like this. If he found out she had gotten into trouble again… he would definitely be furious.
She had only just promised him, not long ago, that she would behave properly… yet here she was, detained and dragged in as the primary suspect of a criminal offense.
"Get these suspects into a cell—quickly! The members of Gardisto have become utterly useless! How could you allow criminals to roam freely and harm His Highness?" The old man in luxurious robes had been grumbling the entire walk here, and even now he refused to stop.
A cold aura suddenly brushed the back of Lizzy's neck — so icy it made her flinch.
When she lifted her gaze, Revanio appeared before her, accompanied by two officers in similar uniforms… all three of them emanating an oppressive aura as dark and sharp as winter frost.
Lizzy's soul nearly left her body. She lowered her head again instantly, desperately trying to hide her face.
I'm finished… After this, I'm definitely getting kicked out of the house.
A middle-aged man who had arrived with Revanio stepped forward with assured, authoritative strides. Lizzy could already tell he must be an important figure here.
"Please calm down, Count Welton. You may explain the situation to us first," he said, voice steady yet commanding.
The old man with glasses scoffed sharply, then jabbed an accusing finger toward Lizzy.
"That barbaric girl struck His Highness until he fainted! This is a disgrace! She must be executed!" he roared, trembling with outrage.
Revanio's eyes snapped toward Lizzy — sharp enough to slice through steel. His aura erupted like a blazing inferno, engulfing the room.
Lizzy froze. She dared not speak a single word, terrified that anything she said would worsen the fire already burning. And yet the words executed echoed in her head over and over — so frightening she felt her blood run cold.
She never wanted to hear that word in her life.
"Excuse me," the large man who had been detained alongside Lizzy suddenly interjected, raising a hand. "This young lady is not at fault. It's all because I shouted 'Pervert!' at the man this old fellow calls 'His Highness.' She must have struck him in self-defense. It was not intentional."
He explained everything calmly, defending Lizzy as best as he could. Lizzy, who had initially thought he was scary, quietly changed her opinion — maybe he was a good man after all.
But the explanation only made Count Welton even angrier. His face turned beet red as he bellowed:
"What did you say?! You called His Highness a pervert?! Outrageous! This man deserves death for slandering nobility! Drag him to a cell at once!"
Lizzy blinked in confusion. Just who is the orange-haired man I punched? A high-ranking noble? A regional ruler?
"Count Welton, I already told you to calm down," the authoritative man sighed, visibly irritated. "This seems like a misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?! You are merely a low-ranking noble—how dare you speak to me like that?! Baron Flitcher, I will report you to Her Majesty and have your noble title revoked if you ever disrespect me again!"
Lizzy quietly judged the furious old man. Isn't it dangerous to get this angry at his age? Well… not that I'd feel sad if he died from a heart attack.
She sighed inwardly. And he dares act haughty with only a 'Count' title? Unbelievable.
Baron Flitcher, on the other hand, seemed to be nearing his own breaking point — the twitch in his eye was unmistakable. The two officers beside him noticed it too. The beautiful woman at Revanio's side gently held his shoulder, stopping him before he exploded.
"Commander, allow me to handle him. You may continue your interrogation," she suggested gracefully.
Baron Flitcher released a long breath. "…Very well. Please deal with him, Sheryle. Don't let him cause more trouble."
Sheryle nodded, then turned toward Count Welton with a charming smile.
"Count Welton, you look exhausted. If you're willing, our rest room has a massage chair equipped with aromatherapy. Would you like to try it?"
Count Welton seemed utterly dazzled by her beauty. Even the guards holding Lizzy captive appeared stunned.
One by one, they abandoned their posts and followed Sheryle… as though hypnotized.
Lizzy let out a low whistle. "That smile… is dangerously enchanting," she muttered. Revanio must enjoy having such a coworker.
But the relief didn't last long. The moment the old man left, two sharp-faced men stepped forward, arms crossed, glaring at Lizzy as though preparing to execute her on the spot.
"Now then, let us continue the interrogation." Baron Flitcher flashed a sinister smile toward Lizzy and the large man beside her. When Lizzy sneaked a glance at Revanio, the young man met her gaze with an expression that clearly said:
I warned you—I won't help you if you get into trouble again.
Lizzy wilted on the spot, shoulders drooping like a scolded kitten.
After allowing the two of them to sit inside the interrogation room, Baron Flitcher folded his arms and studied them intently. "Well then, what exactly happened? Explain."
The large man raised his hand. "Very well, allow me to explain," he said before taking a deep, steadying breath.
"My name is Wyat. I'm just an ordinary merchant in the marketplace. I have a daughter—twenty years old—who recently opened her own snack shop. These past few days, she told me she felt like someone had been following her… someone loitering around her shop. At first, she thought he was ordinary enough, but the last three days, he kept returning… always watching her."
Wyat's expression hardened with fatherly resolve.
"As a father, it is my duty to protect my child. So naturally, I thought the man must be some kind of deviant. What sane person behaves like that? So today, when I caught him prowling near her shop again, I immediately attempted to apprehend him. But he ran, so I chased him."
Wyat rubbed the back of his neck ruefully.
"In the middle of the road, we happened to cross paths with this young lady with the red hair. Unexpectedly, the criminal hid behind her. When I explained to her that he was a pervert, this young lady instantly reacted—she struck him with such force he flew. And so… everything that happened was pure accident."
Wyat finished his tale with a surprisingly dignified, earnest expression.
Lizzy stared at him with her mouth slightly open, genuinely impressed.
Whether his explanation was one hundred percent accurate or not, Uncle Wyat delivered it like a seasoned storyteller. He even portrayed Lizzy as an honorable maiden protecting her purity from a vile evildoer.
It was… unexpectedly flattering.
Both Baron Flitcher and Revanio seemed affected by his explanation. They listened closely, nodding as though everything finally made sense.
"I see…" Baron Flitcher muttered, crossing his arms. "Then where is the source of this chaos?"
Lizzy and Uncle Wyat exchanged a look — then both shrugged at the exact same time.
Baron Flitcher sighed. "Captain Calyx, bring him here. He must be at the city's elite hospital by now." It was clear that Baron Flitcher already suspected who the true troublemaker was.
Revanio placed a fist over his chest. "Yes, Sir."
⊱⋅ ────◇✦◇──── ⋅⊰
For half an hour, they waited in the interrogation room while eating a simple stew. Lizzy had to admit — everything that happened earlier had drained nearly all her energy. Even now, her case wasn't fully resolved because the person involved still hadn't arrived.
"I apologize—we can only provide simple food," Baron Flitcher said, though he ate the same meal without complaint.
"That's quite alright, sir. And this young Red-Haired Lady doesn't seem bothered either. She finished her bowl in five minutes—perhaps you should give her another portion," Wyat said while gesturing toward Lizzy's bowl, which was already spotless.
Lizzy shrank in her seat, cheeks burning.
"Oh, that's true. Then I shall request another serving—"
Baron Flitcher had just stood up when Lizzy quickly blurted out, "N-no need, Sir! I'm full."
She was absolutely not full. Her stomach growled loudly in betrayal — loud enough that both men heard.
"Hahaha, no need to be shy, Miss Hawthorn. You're no longer a suspect, so relax." Baron Flitcher walked toward the door, but before he could open it, someone else opened it from outside.
Revanio appeared the moment the door swung wide. "I've brought him."
Baron Flitcher, who was about to leave, reluctantly sat back down. Lizzy, meanwhile, silently cursed — Revanio returned far too quickly.
Revanio entered the room, followed by the orange-haired man now sporting a swollen, bruised face. Revanio gave Lizzy a sharp gesture, silently telling her to vacate her seat. The bruised man was to sit there instead.
Revanio looked far too terrifying when angry for Lizzy to refuse. She quickly stood beside the disheveled young man.
When Baron Flitcher's wrathful expression turned toward him, the orange-haired man instantly bowed his head, admitting defeat.
"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause trouble."
"Your Highness, you must not lower your head before someone of lesser status. If anyone sees you, I will be the one punished." Baron Flitcher rubbed his temples, exhaustion practically dripping from every sigh.
But the orange-haired young man stubbornly shook his head. "I'm not 'Your Highness'! You've got the wrong person! My name is Orian—just an ordinary student from Cedar Academy!"
Baron Flitcher rested his chin on both clasped hands atop the table, eyes narrowing with solemn weight.
"Your Highness, Fourth Prince… do you truly believe you can maintain your disguise before the two of us?" His voice lowered, heavy with a chilling aura.
"Drop the act, Your Highness," Revanio added — equally intimidating.
Lizzy screamed internally. Did I hear that correctly? Prince?! He's a prince?!
So I… hit a member of the Royal Family?! How am I still alive?! Is this how my life ends? Is this my final chapter?!
Beside her, Uncle Wyat was trembling just as badly, eyes wide with horror. No wonder that old man was furious… I struck a prince! After this, I may never see my daughter again…
Meanwhile, the young man labeled as 'Fourth Prince' looked utterly pitiful. He glanced at Revanio as if begging for mercy, but Revanio was unmoved — unbreakable, stone-cold.
Finally, the young man exhaled in defeat. "It seems pointless to continue lying," he muttered, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He slowly wiped his face and hair with it — and whatever enchantment coated the cloth began dissolving the disguise.
Before their eyes, his hair paled into pristine white. His irises faded into soft, muted grey — like ashes settling on winter dawn.
Uncle Wyat's knees nearly gave out. "A true scion of the Royal House… white as snow," he whispered shakily — just loud enough for Lizzy to hear.
So that's how it is… white hair and pale-grey eyes are the Royal Family's mark in this kingdom, Lizzy thought. Then her expression stiffened in horror.
Wait—would MY hair dye and eye color disappear if I touched that handkerchief?! She instinctively shuffled away, subtly hiding behind Revanio.
Baron Flitcher straightened his posture, voice ringing sharply: "Your Highness, Fourth Prince Orangel Glorious." He spoke the name with disciplined authority. "What exactly was the meaning behind your actions today?"
Pressed beneath Baron Flitcher's overwhelming aura, Prince Orangel finally relented.
"My fiancée… adores the snacks from that shop," he confessed. "But it's a commoner's shop; we are forbidden from consuming anything not approved within the palace. Her favorite treats are banned in the Royal Court."
He looked genuinely distressed, like a puppy denied its treat. "So I planned to purchase them for her in secret. But I had no idea how to obtain them properly. As you both know, members of the Royal Family are not allowed to roam freely in the city… and I had no one to ask for help. Thus—I had no choice but to sneak out and disguise myself. Though Count Welton eventually discovered me…"
Revanio pinched the bridge of his nose. "If that's the case, why were you loitering suspiciously around the shop and alarming the townsfolk?"
"Eh? Did I look suspicious?" The prince blinked innocently. "I was merely observing the surroundings."
"That is precisely why you were mistaken for a degenerate." Revanio's tone sharpened like steel dragged across stone.
"If you wished to buy something, you could have simply walked inside the shop, chosen the snack you wanted, paid, and left with it. It is not difficult. It is—quite literally—that simple."
His patience was unraveling thread by thread; one could almost hear it snapping. Lizzy suspected that Revanio was resisting the overwhelming urge to smash the prince's head against the interrogation table — but somehow, miraculously, he held himself back.
The prince pouted like an offended child. "You know I've never gone shopping in my life! How could I possibly do something so effortlessly just because you say it's easy?"
Lizzy blinked. Was it her imagination, or were these two… awfully familiar with each other?
From her vantage point, Revanio looked less like a cold, fearsome knight and more like an exasperated older brother scolding his hopelessly reckless younger sibling. Even Baron Flitcher seemed unfazed by their dynamic — as if he had seen this exact argument many, many times before.
"Enough. Let us not drag this out further." Baron Flitcher's authoritative voice restored order as smoothly as a blade sheathed. "At the very least, we now understand this was nothing more than a misunderstanding. No one here is truly at fault—so no one needs to be punished."
He clasped his hands, his expression shifting into firm mentorship.
"First—Wyat." The man jolted slightly in his seat. "You must not leap to conclusions on mere assumptions. Before acting, you must understand the person, their background, their intentions. If someone behaves suspiciously, speak to them first, observe their demeanor.
Only when you are certain should you take action."
Then his gaze slid toward Prince Orangel, who sat stiffly beside Wyat.
"And Your Highness… you cannot afford to act carelessly. You are a member of the Royal Family. One misstep—just one—can lead to grave consequences. You must think through your plans thoroughly before making any decision. Whether your actions would harm many or none at all, you must first discuss them with someone you trust before you act."
Finally, his attention fell upon Lizzy. "And lastly… Miss Hawthorn."
His voice softened, yet carried undeniable weight. "You must learn to better control your strength. Self-defense is important, yes—but it becomes meaningless if you cannot restrain it."
The words hit Lizzy square in the chest. Too accurate. Too painful. She could only bow her head.
"I'll… try," she whispered.
Prince Orangel, however, brightened with sudden admiration. "But your strength is remarkable, Miss Hawthorn! It would be a shame to leave such talent undeveloped. You seem quite skilled in combat… perhaps you should consider joining the Kavaliro Corps?"
Lizzy snapped her head up. What?
"I could write you a recommendation," the prince continued earnestly, "so you may enter the Kavaliro Training Camp of Glorious."
The room fell into stunned silence. Everyone stared at the prince as if he had suddenly proclaimed the sky was purple again.
But none were as wide-eyed or horrified as Lizzy herself. Eh… why am I suddenly being recruited?!