Recognized as an urgent matter, the transfer of the baronial title and our marriage were accepted in a matter of moments.
To remain inconspicuous, I wore a veil I had bought earlier from a merchant. Thanks to the weight of royal authority, the process moved along seamlessly, without a single suspicion.
“Congratulations on your marriage. Baroness Elise Leoris and your husband, Sir Lyzectus Leoris. Here are your royal identification papers,” said the official.
“Thank you.”
As I looked at the new identification papers, tears pricked my eyes.
With this, the existence of Elise, the king’s younger brother’s daughter, and her guard, Lyzectus, had vanished from the kingdom.
What remained, as far as objective records showed, was:
Baroness Elise Leoris and her husband, Lyzectus Leoris.
Additionally, as a royal daughter with claims to succession, I had lost all political value. A married woman was no longer suitable for a diplomatic marriage with a neighboring kingdom.
So now…
It’s okay.
Probably okay.
Though I believed myself freed from “Blue Rose Garden”, I couldn’t let my guard down until tomorrow at 11 a.m.—the time when Lyzectus and I were fated to die in the novel.
Still, I couldn’t stop worrying about being pursued.
At an upscale inn in the capital, we registered under the name “Baroness Elise Leoris and her husband.” Such establishments often hosted noble affairs, so no one questioned the lack of attendants.
We prepaid for a room on the first floor, refused dinner service, and once inside, I quickly changed into the fine commoner clothing I had purchased from the merchant.
Slipping out through the window, we left the inn as a decoy, hoping it would distract any pursuers.
At a separate stable, we retrieved our horses. Blending into the crowd trailing behind a merchant caravan, Lyzectus and I quietly made our way toward the city gates.
The gates for commoners had strict inspections upon entry, but leaving was a different matter—only light checks were performed to ease congestion. Riding the wave of the crowd, we passed through the gates without a hitch.
17 hours remain.
I let out a long breath, tension draining from my body. Turning back, I gazed at the capital gates.
From there, people trickled out like strands of a spider’s web, their steps quickened by the approaching night as they hurried on journeys or back home.
The setting sun cast long shadows of Lyzectus, myself, and our horse, stretching back toward the city. The faint warmth of the day’s sunlight lingered in the wind, tangling in my hair and stirring its shadow along with it.
In “Blue Rose Garden”, my father, my brother, and the mansion itself would be engulfed in the chaos of the princes’ infighting. Vivid red flames, as bright as freshly cut flowers, would burn through the night, staining the sky crimson until dawn.
But now…
With the estate’s funds gone, my father and brother would likely return to their territories to raise money.
If the masters were absent, the mansion’s chances of being caught in the power struggle were slim.
The royal family would crumble, but aside from the nobles shifting in power, the country itself would remain largely unaffected.
“Goodbye, Father.”
“Goodbye, Brother.”
For the first time, I called them Father and Brother, titles that had always been forbidden to me.
In some corner of my heart, the younger version of me—the novel’s version of me—still prayed that they would survive.
In the novel, my mother’s cause of death had been hidden under the king’s orders.
Whether my father agreed out of self-preservation or fear, I would never know.
I only knew that he was weak. Weak, and unable to protect me.
“Lyzectus. I know what you saw that night when you were thirteen.”
Unlike my father, who shut his heart and chose weakness, Lyzectus became strong because of his weakness. For my sake.
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