I unclasped my cloak and walked toward her.

  Lilia instinctively stepped back — and caught her heel on the chair leg.

  I didn't touch her. I simply drew the cloak around her from behind, draping it over her shoulders to cover her.

  The moment the fabric settled, her breath hitched.

  "Don't worry." My voice was steady. "I'm not the kind of man who takes advantage of a vulnerable moment."

  She kept her head low. The tips of her ears had gone pink.

  The room was so quiet I could almost hear us both breathing.

  ◆

  I returned to my seat, my gaze settling back into stillness.

  "Miss Lilia, I have a question."

  She looked up.

  "You set fire to my property — I can rebuild. You injured my handmaids — I can call for physicians."

  My tone didn't rise, but it carried no warmth.

  "But if I let this pass without response — how do you suppose I explain that to the people who follow me?"

  Her body went faintly rigid.

  This time, there was no argument. No defiance.

  Only a slow lowering of her head.

  "I'm sorry..."

  The words were barely audible — light as a feather drifting to the floor.

  "If any of them were hurt because of me... Lilia will bear responsibility."

  I watched her in silence.

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  Impulsive. But she doesn't run from what she's done.

  "The physicians have already seen to them," I said. "But if anyone does not recover from their injuries — even as the Holy Maiden of an allied clan, I will be compelled to act accordingly."

  The air seemed to compress for a moment.

  She raised her head and met my eyes.

  Those jade irises didn't flinch.

  "I understand."

  Not weakness.

  Accountability.

  ◆

  I gave a quiet nod inside myself, then shifted the conversation.

  "Now — the real matter. Why did you enter in secret, and why were you ambushed?"

  Lilia adjusted the cloak around her shoulders. The fabric was thin, its coverage limited. She held herself upright with deliberate effort, but the tension running through her was impossible to conceal.

  She began to speak.

  The unusual movements of the dark elves and the orcs. The missing envoy. The elders' decision. The ambush along the road. The warriors who fell. Her own grievous wounds, and the darkness that followed.

  "You were unconscious for seven days," I said, cutting in calmly.

  The color drained from her face.

  "If enemy forces are already in motion, the Holy Grounds may already be in crisis. Even if the capital dispatches troops today, it would take no less than ten days to arrive."

  I didn't say what came next.

  She arrived there herself.

  Her fingers tightened, without thinking, around the edge of the cloak.

  "Lord Marvin... please. Find a way."

  That voice — for the first time, it had lost its composure.

  She was strong.

  But she carried an entire people on her back.

  ◆

  I rose from my seat and moved slowly through the room.

  Not for effect — to think.

  "It isn't without solution."

  She looked up sharply, something close to desperation in her eyes.

  "To break the siege on the elven lands, I must go myself."

  Her breath caught.

  "You... personally?"

  "Yes."

  I stopped in front of her. Close — close enough to see the uncertainty moving through her pupils.

  "This is a dangerous road. If my judgment fails, it won't be a few soldiers who die. It will be me."

  I leaned forward slightly, bringing my eyes level with hers.

  "And if I die, the northern provinces lose their center. Millions of lives fall into chaos."

  She parted her lips, but said nothing.

  She understands.

  This isn't heroism. It's a calculation of cost.

  After a long silence, she said quietly:

  "If it were me... I wouldn't risk myself so lightly either."

  ◆

  I straightened.

  "Which is why we need a guarantee."

  "A guarantee?" She looked up at me.

  In that instant, she seemed to realize how little distance remained between us.

  She moved back instinctively — and found the chair pressing into her spine, nowhere left to go.

  I didn't advance. I simply spoke, my voice level:

  "The Guardian's Covenant."

  Her breath stumbled.

  "In your name as Holy Maiden, you bind yourself to me by covenant. While I fight for your people, you are responsible for my safety — without exception, without abandon."

  I paused.

  "When the war ends, the covenant dissolves. Where you go after that is your own affair."

  She was silent.

  Without me, there isn't time.

  With me, there is at least a chance.

  She knows this is the only path that exists.

  She raised her head slowly.

  "If I agree... will you truly go yourself?"

  ◆

  I didn't answer right away. I simply extended my hand.

  "The covenant will bear witness."

  Magic began to gather in the air. A pale luminescence rose between us — like some ancient vow taking shape in the dark.

  She looked at the light. Then she looked at me.

  At last, she laid her hand into my palm.

  Her hand was cool. And trembling, just slightly.

  "Lilia... consents."

  The light contracted sharply. The covenant was sealed.

  Only then did she realize — I was still holding her hand.

  The room went quiet again. A flush had risen to her cheeks, soft and unhurried. She didn't pull away.

  I released her.

  "Pack your things."

  I turned toward the window. The night lay against the glass, and in its reflection, two silhouettes stood side by side.

  "We leave at dawn."

  From behind me came her reply — soft, but without hesitation.

  "Yes, my lord."

  I didn't turn back.

  But I knew —

  She had chosen to trust.

  And the war had, at last, begun.

  The board is set.

  This chapter marks the true beginning of the northern campaign.A contract has been signed — not of submission, but of responsibility.