“Sir Williams gave me this letter to give to you, my lady. He said it’s from your squadron.”

“Excellent. I’ve been wondering what took so long.”

Zoe held a thick envelope and I eagerly snatched it. Its contents ran for pages, but was split into two parts like the others. The first was a militaristic report, written by Sir Harrod, and the second was a much shorter letter from the knight apprentice. I threw the report onto my desk for later and began reading the letter. 

‘My lady,

This is being sent through a secure channel as Sir Williams instructed, so rest assured that the following information is absolutely confidential.’

There was that sense of quiet confidence Mikhail possessed again. I smiled slightly, but I was more focused on the subject at hand. 

‘The squadron tried to carry out your orders.’

My orders…ah, yes. Assassinating the female lead’s father to prevent him from bringing her into high society. My heart leaped. ‘Tried’ didn’t sound good. 

‘I deeply regret to inform Your Ladyship that there were unseen circumstances, and Baron Bryant is still alive. I would also like to offer my personal apologies, for if I had been already trained and present, I would have surely guaranteed otherwise.’

The only thing that stopped me from throwing the nearest available item in frustration was the boy’s casual arrogance in his assurance, which I found satisfying. I sighed, disappointed nonetheless, and continued. 

‘Please allow me to describe the circumstances. 

Baron Bryant is an incredibly private person. He lives at court with his wife, in the castle. He never leaves the castle, and it’s rare for him to even leave his chambers outside of attending parliament. It was why it took so long for an opportunity to arise. 

Very recently, a close friend of his living away from the capital fell severely ill, to the point of being on the verge of death. Finally, he left to visit him. The squadron struck on a desolate path on the way.’

It was going well up to this point, and irritation rose within me. How could they have been so close, yet let him slip away?

‘He had brought more knights with him than our squadron, but we had expected them to be fairly untrained compared to us. Had they been knights of the barony, it would have been true. 

But they were royal knights.’

What? My grip on the paper tightened and my heart pounded. It didn’t make sense.

‘Our knights recognized their fighting style, and besides, they were the only ones who could have matched the knights of Avington. It would have been close, but we were outnumbered and a few of our knights got wounded, so we pulled back. 

Again, my sincerest apologies on behalf of my squadron and my current inability.’

Why in hell would royal knights be guarding the female lead’s father before the novel even started? Wait, I had gone down this train of thought before. Where, when…aha!

In fact, there were two instances. First, royal knights had been guarding the diamond mine, even though Catherine was supposed to discover it. Second, my family was connected to Baroness Bryant. The truth behind both of these were conspiracies, the world filling in blanks and plot holes the simple romance novel never bothered to address.

If this was the case here too, then things were much more complicated than I’d expected. 

‘With Your Ladyship’s betrothal and the political situation in mind, we decided it would be best not to make another attempt before consulting you first. By the way, the squadron congratulates Your Ladyship.

We await your orders.’

His sign-off and signature ended the letter. I tossed it onto my desk with the report and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes. I should try to process this information, but there wasn’t much to sort out. Terrifyingly, the baron was connected to the royal family, and there could be many secrets at play here. My world was far more complicated than a mere novel. 

“My lady, if you don’t mind, I would like to give my report as well.”

I had forgotten Zoe was there. Such was her talent as a servant, to completely fade into the background. I nodded and gestured for her to go ahead. I had told her to find everything she could on the last saint and the mythical flower that might cure my brother. 

“There is plenty of scripture describing the first saint. However, local stories vary wildly, and some are disapproved of by the temple. Your Ladyship already knows most of the official gospel, but there are a few curious details.”

“Such as?”

“For one, no one knows who the saint was or where she went. Of course, records weren’t complete back then, but there is no consistent story at all about her origins or her fate after she sealed the demon king. Even the temple brushes it off with little information.”

That was no surprise, her only value to the temple was when she was the saint blessed with God’s power. They hadn’t thought of using her for propaganda yet, and she would’ve been useless after God closed their connection after the demon king was sealed. 

“She could’ve been some orphan or beggar no one cared about and became a hermit.”

“But even in that case, there would’ve still been people, many, that knew her before she was the saint and bragged about it. Yet of all the stories passed down throughout the kingdom, nearly all of them are ridiculous.”

It could be something worth looking into, but I wasn’t particularly concerned. Anyone with enough money could make someone disappear, especially so long ago. 

“I might ask Priest Fernandez about it. Anything else?”

“Yes. I am almost certain the saint could bring back the dead.”

I blinked and stared at Zoe, who looked back with her dead and emotionless eyes, completely serious. If she had gone insane, I couldn’t tell. Regardless, raising the dead was an amazing power for main characters in action novels, not a saint. 

“It is strange, but I consulted a very large number of people with stories from places the saint visited during her quest, even a few local temples and priests. The only common factor the tales share, outside of what’s recognized by the temple, is that the saint could heal any wound, even if the person had been dead.”

That couldn’t be right. One of the most central ideas of our religion was that it was God’s supreme and exclusive power to determine life and death. Not even Catherine could heal someone that was already dead, and that was saying something. 

“Are you positive about this?”

“Yes.” 

It was a sign of my trust in Zoe that word alone made me willing to consider the possibility. 

God couldn’t have given the saint the ability to heal the dead. So, God didn’t, and the saint got that power from somewhere else. The temple would no doubt conceal it, given that it went against their principles. 

Then where did the saint get that ability? There were plenty of possibilities, since this was a fantasy world, after all, and it might as well have been a weird mushroom. The important part was that if she could heal the dead, then she could heal a mage. 

“What about the flower she left? Any news?”

“The stories confirm its existence. A woman even claims that her ancestor had been healed by it, and the miraculous recovery she spoke of is indeed recorded, though denied by the temple. Its current whereabouts are still unknown.”

“Well, find it!”

Zoe curtsied, signalling the end of her report, and I dismissed her. She was annoying me, for she should have been able to do anything I asked. 

I wanted to and felt like I could trust her. It would be placing my hopes on a flower that exists only in stories, but it would be better than nothing. Couldn’t I rely on her certainty?

On the other hand, how had she, a mere maid, managed to get so much information? It was startling for a servant. What if she were a spy? No, the novel said she was loyal to me. Then again, reality was different from the novel. Nevertheless, servants of House Avington weren’t hired without a strict and extremely thorough background check, so maybe it was just talent. 

“What should I do now?”

Alone, I asked myself the question out loud. No rest for the wicked, I needed to plan my next step. I picked up my pen and a piece of paper to write a letter, my next orders to my knights. 

If I couldn’t eliminate the threat from the roots, the next best bet was trying to find Catherine again. We’d failed before, but maybe we’d get lucky soon. The knights should monitor all the orphanages and look into anyone remotely fitting her description. 

I wanted more control to make up for this failure. What about Ratched, Catherine’s step-grandfather, whose death would start the novel, according to my theory? Should I have him killed early? No, the novel was my absolute advantage and I should stick as close to the original as possible to make the most of it. However, my knights should observe him closely, so I would know immediately when he died. 

Finally, I would tell Zoe to keep researching. We would find a way. 

I was going to succeed, no matter what. I knew I would.