She was different now.
Tales stared blankly at Miranda as she was now and couldn't help thinking so.
They had first met as fellow prisoners in Dragoncloud City, and he had watched her wield her sword and cut a swath through the Palace of Heroes. Tales had known Miranda for a long time.
There was no doubt that the woman before him was a calm warrior, a powerful swordswoman, and a strong fighter—cautious and reliable, yet carrying a hint of aloofness that kept others at a distance.
Like a flower on a sheer snow-covered cliff.
As befitted a descendant of the White Eagle, a scion of Arendt.
But now—at this moment...
Tales gazed at her back. For the first time, he sensed the heat and vitality radiating from her veins, as well as an unprecedented pressure.
That was not something the Arendt Family of Cold Castle could teach her, nor was it something she had learned from Terminus Tower—not even from the Flower of the Fortress.
It was...
Tales closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and returned to reality.
"If that's the case, then why don't you go directly to my father, to His Majesty, and make the same promise to him?"
Miranda's hand froze as she adjusted the scabbard fittings.
Tales slowly opened his eyes.
"As long as—as long as you repeat to King Kessel what you told me, as long as you're willing to give up what your father and his generation refuse to give up..."
Duke of Star Lake gritted his teeth.
"I believe that whether it's titles or status, whatever I can give you in the future, the Iron-Fisted King can give you right now."
And he would probably be delighted to give it to you.
Tales snatched up that ridiculous letter of greeting, his