I’ve Decided to Let You Go - Chapter 22

Ten days ago, just like always, he contacted Theodore without warning. He didn’t come to chat or exchange greetings—just gave a request thinly disguised as an order. He told him to investigate the recent disappearance in Vyle.

That cursed friend only ever showed up when he needed something, used Theodore however he pleased, and disappeared once he got what he wanted. It had happened before. It would happen again.

And yet, Theodore couldn’t bring himself to say no. Maybe pity was even worse than pride.

He formed a small elite team and traveled to Vyle. As expected, he took the investigation seriously—just as his friend had wanted. But while doing so, he discovered something strange about the case.

Now, he had come to confront him about it.

“What incident?”

Sieghart’s casual tone grated on Theodore’s nerves.

“Peter Sabrina. The case you asked me to investigate. The more I looked into it, the more obvious it became. You’re the one behind it, aren’t you, Sieghart?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t tell me you seriously wanted me to catch the criminal. What’s your real reason?”

As Theodore demanded answers, Sieghart only gave a half-smile, as if asking him to calm down.

“I just needed the Imperial Knights for a short while.”

“I see. And this time, what’s your excuse? What exactly did our noble lord do to a so-called innocent citizen?”

“Innocent? Hardly. He was a criminal. I simply did the guards’ job for them. It saddens me to see my goodwill so harshly misunderstood.”

Sieghart handed Theodore a document. It was a neatly organized record of Peter Sabrina’s crimes.

It included everything from petty theft and stalking to drug trafficking and serious offenses. Even sexual assault. Reading the details, it was clear Peter was the real serial offender.

“Wow… So, what did you do to him? Kidnapping? Murder?”

“Let’s just say the matter has been dealt with. How does that sound?”

Sieghart answered smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And somehow, that was all the answer Theodore needed.

“Thanks to you, everything went as planned. Although things got a little messier than expected.”

“That’s not how you made it sound before.”

“What I mean is, it almost fell apart, but thanks to you, I still managed to get something out of it. So, thank you.”

“Took you long enough to say that. I didn’t expect your gratitude to be this half-hearted.”

“I’ll repay you properly once the plan is fully finished. I promise it’ll be more than enough, so don’t worry.”

At that, Theodore finally stopped complaining. His friend had lied to him more times than he could count, but when it came to rewards, he always delivered. Generously, even. Just thinking about the payoff was enough to calm him down.

“Fine. I’ll wait. So, what’s this grand plan of yours, anyway?”

“I’m not sure anymore.”

“You’re not sure?”

“I thought it would go smoothly, but I’ve hit an unexpected wall.”

Thanks to his friend’s sharp questioning, Sieghart’s thoughts drifted back to what had happened a few days ago.

“Miss Winter lives in this village. You’ll find her at the house marked ‘13-32.’ It’s not far from here.”

“Thank you. You really helped me avoid a difficult situation.”

“I don’t understand why she ran away from a peaceful life. As far as I know, the empire never threatened her.”

“What?”

“It was such perfect timing… almost like she was running away from me.”

She had looked him in the eye and calmly told him where Tisha Winter lived. There was no way she didn’t recognize him as Sieghart. Then why had she told him the truth so easily?

Was she not afraid of someone closely connected to the empire?

“It’s starting to make me curious.”

Or was she pretending to be naive, trying to deceive him?

Natasha woke up at dawn and helped Madame Sherry prepare the pub for opening. She cleaned the kitchen, wiped down tables, and helped with food prep. By the time she looked up, it was already afternoon.

After a late lunch that doubled as an early dinner, she carefully asked for permission to step out.

Though strict about work, Madame Sherry gladly agreed. She must have still been worried after what happened the night before, because she even told Natasha to take the rest of the day off.

Grateful for the rare kindness, Natasha headed straight for her house.

According to Madame Sherry, the knights are investigating the central plaza today. If I go home quickly, grab the money, and come right back, I won’t run into them. Just take the money and leave tomorrow.

Her plan was to sneak into her house, take the cash she had hidden, and disappear before anyone could catch her.

Now that Sieghart knew Tisha Winter’s address, he would likely return. But if she stayed quiet and pretended no one was home, he’d leave. Then she could slip out as soon as he was gone.

In theory, it was perfect. She had even prepared backup plans, just in case. Natasha felt confident that her second attempt to escape would succeed.

Until she stepped inside and saw someone sitting in her home.

There was something off about the atmosphere. The furniture was in the same place, so it didn’t look like a break-in. Still, there were subtle signs of someone else having been there.

It didn’t take long to figure out what felt wrong.

She didn’t say a word. She simply inhaled a little too sharply, startled.

That sound alone seemed to trigger a response.

A faint movement stirred somewhere in the house.

He raised his head, shifted his gaze, crossed one leg, and stood up.

Each movement flowed like choreography—smooth, poised, and controlled. But that graceful rhythm faded into stillness as silence filled the room.

Sieghart stopped in front of her. His large frame cast a heavy shadow that swallowed her in its presence.

“It’s good to see you, Tisha Winter.”

She didn’t respond.

“Come to think of it, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“What… what is this about?”

She had to stay focused.

Natasha forced herself to snap out of it. She shook her head slightly, regaining clarity. No matter how unexpected this encounter was, she couldn’t let herself panic.

“Sieghart Aschart.”

Instead of answering her question, he gave his name. Then, he took her hand and brought it to his lips in a light kiss. It was a gesture far too formal for a common woman—one that made his intentions dangerously clear.

He was exposing her. Declaring to her face that he knew exactly who she was.

“Would it be alright if I removed the mask for you, Your Highness?”

She didn’t speak.

“You don’t seem too surprised. I’ll take that as a yes.”

Even when he was pretending to be courteous, there was an unmistakable arrogance in his tone. A smirk slipped through, as if he was amused by how long she had tried to keep up the act.

“I asked you what you wanted.”

Her voice was quiet but steady. Natasha finally spoke.

It wasn’t because she didn’t know his reason. She did. She just wanted to move past the pointless small talk and get to the real reason he had come.

For a brief moment, his expression shifted. It was a tiny crease on his otherwise composed face—so quick and subtle that most wouldn’t have noticed it.

“Odissen’s Flaire and Haron in Vyle, all in the moving. The changes in appearance. You’ve been hiding your identity and unable to settle down. A sad situation for a princess.”

His hand reached out and gently brushed a strand of her pink hair. He twirled it around his fingers as if it fascinated him. Then he smiled—calmly, yet with something cold hidden beneath it.

That smile was off. There was pride in it. Something calculating. Natasha instinctively tensed.

“I know what you’re afraid of. I know what’s threatening you.”

She stayed silent.

“I’ve come to protect you from all of it.”

He leaned in slightly and kissed her hair. Then, with a more serious tone, he finished.

“Let’s get married.”

The words were familiar. He had said them once before.

This time, Natasha didn’t reject him right away. Not because she was considering the proposal—not out of courtesy or hesitation—but because her mind was already thinking through how to get him out of her life.

The man standing before her was relentless. If he set his sights on something, he would chase it until the end. He would lie to others. He would lie to himself. He would do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

He would come back every day, over and over again, trying to win her over with empty promises.

If she rejected him outright, it would only provoke him. For Sieghart, rejection wasn’t just refusal—it was a stain on his perfect, carefully controlled life.

“Alright, Your Grace.”

So she agreed.

Not because she meant it.

But because that was the fastest way to lower his guard.

And while he was blinded by his pride, convinced that he had won—

Natasha ran.

She asked Sieghart for ten more days. He was pleased by her answer and left in a good mood.

The next day, Natasha said goodbye to Madame Sherry. The farewell came so suddenly that the woman was visibly shocked, but she didn’t try to stop her. After watching Natasha act increasingly restless in recent days, she might have sensed something like this coming.

Natasha went to the post office and mailed a letter to Sir Dante. Then, she rushed to the station to catch the carriage she had booked with extra money.

When she arrived, the coachman greeted her at the stop.

“Miss, just to confirm again. Your destination is the Principality of Kshant, correct?”

Yes. She was going to the Principality of Kshant.

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