The twilight within the upper galleries of Opes' royal palace never brought true light, but merely a softening of the shadows. The imposing architecture, built of gray stone spans and soaring pointed arches, seemed to swallow all sound, turning anyone's steps into an almost spectral presence.
Hayjin moved with silent, treaded steps, maintaining a steady distance of a dozen meters from Riko's figure. His boots brushed the heavy crimson wool carpet running along the corridor of the east wing the sector reserved for high-ranking servants' quarters and the royal family's personal archives.
Hayjin's mind was a boiling cauldron. Vivid, cold, and painful memories of his death in the previous loop still echoed in his head: the slender blade piercing his throat, the suffocating sensation of his own blood filling his lungs, the indistinct shadow looming over his bed. Wilder had left the castle with the elite patrol, but the certainty that Riko was the mastermind or the ruthless accomplice behind that execution was now carved into his mind with the weight of dogma.
"It could very well have been you..." Hayjin thought, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached, his eyes locked on the housekeeper's rigid back. "You've always carried that air of contempt. From the very first second I set foot in here, you looked at me as if I were a parasite. And a few minutes ago, from that window... you weren't looking at the garden."
"You were looking at me. You were checking when to strike your victim again."
Riko walked with an unnatural composure. In her hands, she carried a small silver tray bearing a crystal decanter and two clean goblets. Her movements were fluid, rhythmic, devoid of hesitation. She turned left into a narrower secondary gallery, illuminated only by dim candles set in bronze sconces mounted to the walls. It was an isolated area, one rarely traversed at this hour of the morning.
Hayjin decided there was no more time to waste. He couldn't allow her to hole up in her quarters or dispose of potential evidence.
He quickened his pace, closing the gap in a few silent strides. When he was less than two meters away, he extended an arm and stepped forcefully into her path, bringing her to an abrupt halt and cutting off any avenue of escape.
"Riko. Stop," Hayjin said, his voice low, raspy, and heavy with tension.
The housekeeper stopped instantly. She didn't drop the tray, didn't flinch, and didn't utter a single gasp of fright. She simply halted her steps and slowly raised her eyes to him.
Instead of showing anger, annoyance, or her usual rigid coldness, Riko's facial features softened. Her lips relaxed into a calm smile, while her eyes filled with an expression that was remarkably gentle and caring.
"Hayjin..." Riko murmured in a sweet, almost maternal tone that sent chills down the boy's spine. "What's wrong? You seem so agitated and out of breath... Is everything alright? Do you need something?"
The woman's reaction hit Hayjin like a bucket of icy water, but rather than calming him, it only heightened his nausea and alarm.
"I want to talk to you for a moment," Hayjin replied tersely, staring at her without blinking, his hands at his sides ready to react to any suspicious movement. "Here. Now."
Riko tilted her head slightly to the side, maintaining that imperturbable, coy smile.
"Why, of course, Hayjin," the woman said with a slight nod, lowering the silver tray just a bit. "If I can be of any assistance, I am entirely at your service. Tell me, what would you like to speak about?"
Hayjin stepped closer to her, narrowing the personal space between them. The gallery was tight, and the air seemed to grow heavy all at once.
"I want to know... what exactly were you doing last night?" Hayjin began, attempting to probe subtly about her late-night movements to see if she would slip up. "Between midnight and first light. I noticed an unusual amount of coming and going in the corridors near the guest quarters. Someone was moving around without torches, knowing the guards' blind spots perfectly. And you are one of the very few people who hold keys to all sections and know every single shift change of the servant staff by heart."
Riko listened to the question without flinching an inch. Her expression remained utterly natural and politely composed, as though she were explaining the items on a royal lunch menu.
"Ah, I see..." Riko replied in a calm, flawless voice. "Did you happen to notice movement? Well, the explanation is quite simple, Hayjin. Around two in the morning, Princess Wren experienced a minor feverish spell. I had to go down to the herbal supply archives to retrieve lavender and cold compresses. To avoid waking the noble quarters, I preferred using the secondary service passages the ones without oil torches since I know that wing like the back of my hand. The guard at the rear door, the sergeant, saw me pass and even unlocked the passage for me. If you wish, you may ask him directly."
Hayjin clenched his jaw. The response was too perfect, too smooth, devoid of any hesitation. But he had no intention of backing down.
"And what about access to private rooms?" Hayjin pressed on, giving her no room to breathe, relentlessly driving his point home. "Last night, the service doors were locked from the inside, yet someone managed to disengage the latch without forcing the lock. A clean job, done by someone holding the palace master keys. How do you explain that the only two copies of those keys belong to the keymaster and... you?"
Riko let out a soft, delicate sigh a gesture of pure, polite resignation.
"Hayjin, the master key in my possession never leaves my belt," Riko said, subtly displaying the bronze keyring hooked at her waist beneath her apron with an elegant gesture. "And last night, that key remained locked inside the safe in the central pantry the combination to which is known only to myself and Princess Zhilian. If someone broke into the rooms, I assure you they did not use my tools. Perhaps the locks in the east wing are simply old and worn by time."
"Don't play me for a fool, Riko!" Hayjin raised his voice, taking another threatening step toward her, his eyes blazing with paranoia and fury. "You know exactly what I'm talking about! You were there! You were outside my door! You've had zero respect for me since day one, and you have every reason in the world to want to hurt me for God knows what motive!"
Riko stood watching him in silence for a long moment. Her pleasant face betrayed no fear despite the boy's aggression.
Then, suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.
Seeing that Hayjin was now completely consumed by obsession and that logical explanations would not suffice to calm him, Riko decided to radically change her approach.
She took a slow step toward him, breaching the formal boundaries of space she ordinarily maintained with everyone. She set the silver tray down on a small marble ledge jutting from the wall with a remarkably calm, deliberate movement. Then she turned back to Hayjin.
Her posture relaxed, becoming soft and sinuous. The rigid housekeeper vanished, replaced by a figure whose proximity suddenly felt suffocating, pervaded by an unnatural and deeply unsettling intimacy.
Riko reached out a hand gloved in white lace and, before Hayjin could react, lightly brushed the boy's chest right over his heart. Her voice dropped to a low, warm, velvety whisper, laced with a veiled, unsettling charge of seduction.
"Hayjin..." Riko murmured, looking up at him. Her dark eyes gleamed with a strange, calculating, and unctuously intimate light. "I understand how overwhelmed you feel..."
Hayjin went rigid, his heart hammering against his ribs. Feeling those fingers against his chest filled him with a surge of pure physical revulsion.
"What... what are you doing?" Hayjin stammered, attempting to step back, but Riko closed the distance immediately, ensnaring him in her presence like a web.
"It's so obvious, you know?" the woman continued with morbid sweetness, sliding her hand slowly up from his chest to his neck, brushing his jawline with her fingertips. "You must still be suffering so deeply after what you endured in the dungeon... alongside Lady Zhilian. That darkness, that blood... those atrocities. They broke something inside you, didn't they? Your poor mind can no longer tell reality apart from your own nightmares."
A shiver of pure terror and disgust coursed through Hayjin's body. The mention of the dungeon, coupled with such an inappropriately intimate touch from the woman he viewed as his prospective executioner, sent a wave of nausea straight to his throat.
Riko leaned in even closer, tilting her head slightly. Her scent of lavender and plain soap was now so overwhelming it made him sick. She smiled with subtle malice, a look that promised a velvet-wrapped trap.
"You don't need to worry about anything, my dear Hayjin..." she whispered, her lips inches from his, in a voice dripping with false and dangerous devotion. "If this is what you truly need to quiet the demon consuming your mind... I can come to your room tonight. Or you can come to mine. I'll make you forget everything... Every single nightmare, every single fear. I promise I'll make you feel so weightless that this burden will melt right off your chest..."
That proposition, spoken with such morbid composure in so absurd a context, shattered the last remnants of Hayjin's self-control. The stark contrast between the violent reality of the time loop and this slimy attempt at manipulation provoked a visceral reaction within him.
Hayjin seized her wrist forcefully, shoving her hand away from his face with a sharp, violent motion, repulsed to his core by the contact.
"You... you are out of your mind!" Hayjin yelled, his voice trembling with anger and nausea as he backed away until his shoulders slammed against the opposite stone wall. "You're completely insane! What the hell are you talking about?!"
Riko simply looked down at her freed wrist with absolute calm. She didn't flinch, nor did she display the slightest hint of shame or anger. She merely adjusted her white glove with an elegant, slow gesture.
Then she turned her gaze back to him, offering another one of her warm, unfazed, and detached smiles.
"Don't worry, Hayjin," Riko said in a remarkably reassuring tone, as though speaking to a mental patient gripped by delirium. "Everything will be fine. You'll see that in time, you will recover."
Before Hayjin could retort or scream all the hatred he felt at her, the rhythmic sound of fast, metallic footsteps echoed down the main corridor.
"Hayjin? Riko?"
A female voice strong, regal, and laced with startled confusion cut short their absurd exchange.
Princess Zhilian emerged from around the corner of the gallery.
Zhilian was wearing her elegant, lightweight nightwear. She was accompanied by four elite royal guards armed with spears.
Seeing her knight backed against the wall, visibly shaken and breathlessly panting, with Riko standing a few feet away carrying the silver tray, the princess stopped dead in her tracks.
Her gaze darted between the two of them, taking in the suffocating tension hanging in the air. Zhilian appeared slightly confused and even a bit embarrassed, half-believing she had stumbled into a private argument or an awkwardly intimate, inappropriate moment between her personal knight and her sister's housekeeper.
"Oh..." Zhilian stammered, offering a brief formal nod and trying to quickly compose herself. "Forgive me... I heard voices raised down this hallway and came to check. Is... is everything alright here?"
Riko turned immediately toward Princess Zhilian, dipping into a flawless, deep, and impeccable curtsy, devoid of the slightest trace of the disturbing conversation that had just transpired.
"Your Highness, Princess Zhilian," Riko said in her usual crisp, professional, and entirely neutral voice. "There is no trouble at all, I assure you. I was merely exchanging a few words with Sir Hayjin. The young man seemed somewhat strained from his morning duties, and I was advising him to rest. Now, if you will excuse me, I must deliver this beverage to Princess Wren."
Riko picked up her silver tray, shot one last, momentary, emotionless glance at Hayjin, and walked away moving with light, graceful steps down the opposite gallery before vanishing around the bend.
Hayjin watched her depart. The overwhelming feeling that the killer was slipping through his fingers once again shielded by her mask of perfection and Zhilian's sudden arrival made him snap.
"Riko, stop! I'm not done with you!" Hayjin shouted at the top of his lungs, taking a rash step forward to chase after her.
That gesture was a fatal mistake.
The four royal guards accompanying Zhilian, seeing a low-ranking knight shouting so aggressively and openly threatening the personal housekeeper of little Princess Wren right in front of royalty, reacted on instinct.
Two soldiers lunged forward. The first blocked Hayjin with the shaft of his spear, while the second a massive man with incredible physical strength shoved him forcefully in the chest.
"Silence, insolent fool!" the guard roared.
The impact was brutal. Already physically and mentally exhausted, Hayjin lost his footing and fell hard to the floor, slamming his shoulder and hip against the cold marble. The pain knocked the breath out of him for a moment, while the clatter of his armor plates hitting the stone echoed down the entire corridor.
"How dare you raise your voice and unleash such outbursts against Her Highness Wren's servant?!" the soldier shouted, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it.
"STOP IT!"
Zhilian's voice thundered through the gallery with the force of an absolute military command, freezing the two soldiers in their tracks.
The princess strode forward, her face dark with anger and authority.
"Lower your weapons and step back!" Zhilian ordered the two guards, placing herself between them and Hayjin, who was still on the floor, dazed and seething. "Everything is fine! He is my personal knight! There is no danger here. You may leave, now!"
The four soldiers, visibly taken aback but unable to disobey a direct command from the crown princess, immediately stood at attention. They bowed deeply, struck their fists against their chests, and called out in unison, "Yes, Your Highness!" before turning and marching off toward the main courtyard.
Left alone with Hayjin, Zhilian turned back to him. Her stern expression softened into a look of deep concern and bewilderment.
She stepped closer to the boy and asked in a voice strained yet full of empathy:
"Hayjin... what on earth has gotten into you?! What were you talking about with Riko?! Why were you screaming at her like that? Do you have any idea what would happen if the sages saw you assaulting the royal staff in these halls?"
Hayjin pushed himself up slowly, supporting his weight on one arm against the cold floor. His shoulder throbbed from the fall, and his vision swam slightly from mounting frustration. Seeing Zhilian look at him with that blend of pity and severity was the final straw.
Hayjin struggled to his feet, brushing the dust off his jacket with angry, sharp motions, refusing to meet the princess's eyes.
"It's none of your business, Zhilian," Hayjin replied, his voice laced with malice, rage, and unchecked contempt. "Leave me alone."
Zhilian's eyes widened, struck to the quick by the sheer insolence and coldness of those words. Her pride as a princess and her genuine concern for him clashed violently within her chest. Her face flushed red with indignation and rage.
"HOW DARE YOU?!" Zhilian snapped back, stepping forward and jabbing a finger forcefully against his chest. "I came here to keep those guards from throwing you in a dungeon! I've been trying to figure out what's been wrong with you all morning! You're acting like a lunatic chasing after servants, staring into shadows as if they're going to strike you dead at any moment! CALM DOWN, HAYJIN! CALM DOWN FOR ONCE!"
The princess was breathing heavily from the intensity of her outburst, her pale eyes fixed on the boy's face, expecting a response, an explanation, a sign of surrender.
Instead, Hayjin merely looked at her for a moment. His gaze was hollow, lifeless, drained of any desire to argue or explain the incomprehensible truth consuming him.
Hayjin let out a long, heavy, bitter sigh, slowly shaking his head. Without another word, he turned his back on her in anger and walked briskly toward the east wing exit, leaving the princess standing alone in the middle of the deserted gallery.
Zhilian remained motionless. Her fists were clenched at her sides, her golden cloak hanging in heavy folds around her imposing frame.
She watched Hayjin's figure recede and slowly disappear into the shadowy hallways, without him turning back to look at her even once.
The princess's anger dissolved rapidly, giving way to a deep, painful, and stunned bewilderment.
She stood stunned for a moment, pressing a hand to her chest, as a single, anxiety-laden question echoed through her mind:
"What on earth... what on earth is happening to Hayjin...?"