Marion buried her face into Maxime's chest and rubbed against him, then went further, pressing her entire upper body into him as if she wanted to melt into him. She showed no sign of caring that Maxime was still a patient. Seeing this, Maxime silently accepted her embrace. Like a playful cat, Marion kept nudging herself against Maxime's hands and chest.

“…What are you doing?” Maxime asked while stroking Marion’s head, to which she responded with a muffled voice, still buried in his chest.

“I'm getting rid of that strange smell clinging to you,” she answered flatly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Maxime didn't dare ask what kind of smell she meant. After saying that, Marion pressed her head even harder against him. Maxime smiled awkwardly, unable to stop her. He knew he was guilty of something, and that was likely why he couldn’t act boldly.

“It’s sticking more strongly than I thought…”

Maxime thought to himself that his fiancée must have some kind of special ability. Marion stopped sniffing and for a while simply held onto Maxime as if he were a giant stuffed toy. Then, she lifted her head. Apparently satisfied that her own scent had thoroughly replaced the “strange smell,” her smile was much brighter than before.

“Mm, that should do it.”

Maxime didn’t ask what she meant by that. Despite succeeding in covering him with her scent, Marion showed no intention of detaching herself from him.

“Um... Marion?”

Maxime cautiously called out to her. The way they were tangled together, if a nurse walked in right now, it would be easy to misunderstand the situation. He wanted to get her up.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all. If anyone’s uncomfortable, it must be you, Maxime. Should I get up if I’m bothering you?”

Her voice carried a cold undertone, making it impossible for Maxime to tell her to get up. She looked quite cute, curled up with her fists clenched like a cat, but Maxime couldn’t fully enjoy that cuteness. Marion stayed in the same position for a few more minutes, then slowly lifted herself off the bed, her fingers lingering on the bed sheet as if reluctant to let go.

“Hey, Maxime.”

Maxime looked into Marion’s blue eyes, which resembled a calm lake. There was no anxiety in them. Though impressed by her growth, Maxime scolded himself inwardly.

“What is it?”

“I’ve heard about that Christine person a few times now. She met you before I did, right?”

Her gaze was determined, like someone who had resolved to face things head-on. Maxime met her eyes without turning away.

“Yeah. Today was probably the first time you two actually met face-to-face.”

“It wasn’t the best first impression, but yes, it was.”

Marion let out a deep sigh after that sharp comment. Her man was honest, but so kindhearted that he unknowingly attracted women. She couldn’t help but feel wary.

“Tell me, Maxime. Who exactly is Christine, and what kind of relationship do you have with her? How did you meet, and what do you think of her?”

Marion decided not to avoid the issue. She wanted to know everything tied to Maxime, even though she didn’t want to admit it. Perhaps she might have to leave some space for Christine, though she didn’t like the idea.

Maxime let out a long, shallow sigh at Marion’s question. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how to tell her about his former subordinate, who still held unrequited feelings for him.

He resolved to tell the whole truth, without hiding anything, from the very beginning. Even if she looked at him with disdain or hated him, he needed to be honest to face the challenges ahead with her.

“…Christine was once my subordinate, a junior, and someone connected to my curse.”

Marion’s expression hardened, turning cold and somewhat frightening. But she simply looked at Maxime, waiting for him to continue.

“Christine is an orphan. She showed potential for mana from a young age, so people from the Magic Tower came to take her in for training.”

Her life had been anything but easy. Even though she was acknowledged by the Magic Tower, the orphanage she came from fell into crisis. The request she accepted to save the orphanage turned out to be part of a plot to curse someone. Seeking forgiveness and atonement, she joined a declining knight order—where she met Maxime.

“…I see.”

Marion sighed, unsure whether to be angry or relieved.

“You forgave her, didn’t you?”

“There was nothing to forgive in the first place. The only one I needed to direct my hatred toward was the Duke of Bening.”

Maxime’s voice was calm as he said this. Marion, realizing the story wasn’t entirely unrelated to her either, quietly returned to her usual self.

“…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed you like that.”

“This is something I should have told you eventually. You don’t need to apologize.”

Maxime reassured her, though he still felt a gnawing sense of guilt. He then continued telling Marion the whole story—about the events at the Raven Order, what happened after Theodora arrived, and how they ended up in the wasteland. Marion blushed at the memories but didn’t shy away as she used to.

“After the wasteland incident, when I collapsed, it was Christine who stopped me from being kidnapped.”

Marion narrowed her eyes.

“Kidnapped?”

“They planned to turn me into a puppet and use me for something. It didn’t work out, though.”

Christine had been stabbed by Roberto’s sword and died while trying to atone to Maxime. He had already forgiven her, though. After that, magicians sent by the Magic Tower kidnapped Christine, leading to the present situation. Maxime later found her clues and rescued her.

“So, you had a reason to save her.”

“…Yeah. I had to save her.”

Having heard everything, Marion closed her eyes. Maxime remained silent, giving her time to process everything. When she reopened her eyes, they showed a sense of understanding.

“I’m glad you saved her.”

Maxime blinked in surprise, then smiled bitterly.

“Thank you for saying that.”

If he hadn’t saved her, how deeply would this person have despaired? Marion thought, gazing at Maxime. Was he thinking the same thing when he saved her back then? She wondered if her own questions and jealousy were selfish.

“Still, I’m a bit jealous,” Marion admitted with a small pout. The words “important” and “precious” circled in her mind as she clutched the bed sheet. Seeing her deflated, Maxime placed his hand on her head. Marion, enjoying the comfort, squinted her eyes before collapsing onto him again. Maxime flinched slightly at the tight grip around his waist.

“Marion?”

She raised her head slightly, realizing she’d held him too tightly, and loosened her grip. Of course, whether her hold was strong or weak, Marion couldn’t hurt Maxime with her strength.

“This time, I’m going to act like your fiancée.”

“…Alright.”

Maxime wordlessly stroked her hair. As his hand gently ran through her hair, Marion murmured softly.

“I’ve been working hard at the palace.”

Maxime chuckled quietly. He knew. Ever since he saved her from Myura, Marion had been dutifully fulfilling her tasks, transforming dramatically. He was glad to have her by his side. Her presence was his salvation too.

“You’ve always worked hard, even in Myura. Are you overworking yourself?”

“I want to be helpful. Besides, you’re the one who always overworks.”

Marion pouted as if throwing a little tantrum, and Maxime couldn’t refute her. Before he knew it, she had fully climbed onto the bed.

“The princess even let me off early to come see you.”

Only to find another woman visiting him, she added in a barely audible voice.

“You’ve done well.”

Maxime spoke gently, and Marion once again buried her face into his chest. Maxime felt her small sigh against him.

“I didn’t want to be so whiny.”

“You’re allowed to. It’s a fiancée’s privilege.”

Marion puffed out her cheeks in mild discontent at Maxime’s words.

“You’re being unfair.”

Without saying anything more, Marion buried her face back into his chest. She’d been calling him unfair a lot recently.

Maxime shook his head lightly and focused on stroking her hair again. As always, it was soft and smelled wonderful.

The year was drawing to a close. As someone had once said, the incident at the Magic Tower was slowly fading from people's memories. The number of visitors to the square was increasing again, and after the first snowfall, the snow came frequently. Children built snowmen and threw snowballs on the land where a dungeon once stood.

People’s attention was now on the royal tournament, set to take place as the year turned.

They wondered which astounding knight would emerge this year. And who would win, becoming the new star of the capital?

People once again brought up stories of the previous years’ champions and the tales created by the tournament. In truth, the royal martial tournament was a festival in disguise. During the ten days of festivities, everyone set aside their other worries and focused on enjoying themselves.

For the nobles, the tournament was more than a mere celebration—it was a front for fierce political intrigue. To the knights of the kingdom, however, it was one of the most important events of the year. They spent a fortune every year, bribing judges or currying favor with nobles in higher positions to ensure they advanced to the finals.

For those vying for power, the tournament was a preliminary battle—a chance to gauge the strength of their opponents and identify knights who could serve their cause.

As the tournament's preliminaries approached, the capital and palace were gripped with tension. Meanwhile, the Raven Order of knights was still seething with resentment over the Magic Tower incident. The Duke of Bening had completely bypassed them when assembling his forces, leaving them to learn about the events after the fact.

“Even if we were only recruited as a showpiece, we’re not so incompetent that we can’t handle such important matters of the kingdom,” Paola growled in a low voice. She wasn’t happy about serving under the Second Prince in the first place, and being treated like a mere display piece enraged her. Her face twisted in frustration.

“We’re knights, not nannies for some brat.”

She had never expected much, but as Paola said, the Second Prince was just a child. While his martial skills were decent and he showed some intelligence, his immaturity made life tiring for the members of the Raven Order, who were often called to serve as his escort.

Across from Paola sat Theodora, who was also displeased with the situation, her expression far from bright.

“Vice Commander, keep your voice down. Show some restraint,” Theodora said with a sigh, nodding her head in acknowledgment of Paola’s frustrations. She looked as if she wouldn’t care if she were charged with treason and executed.

“If they continue treating us like this in the tournament, we might as well return to being adventurers,” Paola grumbled, sitting down.

Theodora, uncharacteristically upset, responded in a calm tone.

“That won’t happen at the martial tournament.”

Paola raised an eyebrow.

“And why do you think that?”

“If we’re only being used for show, then the New Year’s Martial Tournament is the perfect opportunity to put us on display.”

Theodora’s voice was bitter as she stared out the window at the familiar winter landscape, with snow piled up and barren trees. She held a letter from Leon Bening, which instructed the Raven Order knights to participate in the tournament.

“Vice Commander.”

Paola took the letter from Theodora, her expression darkening. Theodora, who handed over the message with similarly heavy emotions, wore an empty expression.

“Yes, Commander.”

“What is right, and what is wrong?”

Theodora’s clenched fist trembled, her face shadowed by doubt.

“…Whatever you choose to do, Commander, that will be the right thing.”

Paola could only offer the obvious answer, letting out a deep sigh. She felt stifled. Needing to clear her head, she stood up, thinking she would go practice swordsmanship.

Just then, she heard news that the First Prince’s sword instructor had returned.