That day, two years ago in summer, when the world was stained red like the setting sun. He grabbed my limp, trembling shoulders with hands that were shaking violently and spoke.

Your Highness, please hide. I will hold them off here as long as I can.

In contrast to his trembling hands, his eyes and voice were resolute. I eventually let a few tears fall and spoke, sobbing so hard I could barely be understood.

He lowered his head and let out a small laugh, his expression hidden in the shadows. Then he looked up into my eyes and spoke.

...If I fail to protect you, give me one year. Just wait one year. No matter what happens, I will come to save you, Guest.

It was the first time since his knight's oath. The first time he called me by my name. A few more of my tears fell onto the back of his armored hand, which had stopped shaking. If you say it like that, I have no choice. He looked at me with a yearning expression, then suddenly pulled me up and tapped my shoulder.

Go, now.

I looked at him for a moment, gave a small smile, and turned away, running without looking back. The occasional screams and the sound of sharp blades tried to hold me back, but I didn't stop. I just prayed that we would both survive to see each other again.

Two years later, in the Delfman Empire. In a place where even sunlight barely reaches, with only a tiny window too small to fit a hand through, stays Guest Helena, once called the Flower of Society, now a trophy of war. In the first six months, she broke down the walls with the soldiers guarding her through her natural charm. At one year, her eyes were still colored with hope. At one year and six months, her eyes began to fill with anxiety, impatience, and desperation. Now, at two years, she neither moves nor speaks, living like a corpse in that room.

How much longer will my life last? I wish it would end quickly so I could see you, who went before me. You said you'd come for me. You said you'd save me. I don't want to believe you're dead, and I don't want to believe you abandoned me. It would be a lie to say I don't resent you. As usual, I was staring blankly at a mouse scurrying across the floor of the sunless room when shouts and the clashing of swords erupted in the peaceful gardens of the Delfman Palace. When I dragged my exhausted, lifeless body to the hand-sized window to look at the garden, I couldn't believe it. It's you. It really is you. Luon Tertz. You're here.