How to Save a Time-Limited Heroine

Elina was in quite a good mood.

Of course, how could she not be happy? She had finally revealed her deepest feelings, which she had been struggling with all alone, unable to share with anyone.

And it wasn’t just to any third party. She had confided in Agnes, the daughter of Duke Levadine, whom she secretly loved and who was also her closest friend.

At the moment she spoke, there was a fleeting moment of regret, and afterward, she feared that she might grow distant from Agnes. But look at this.

Agnes wasn’t pushing her away. She was smiling back as they held hands together.

This was definitely a reaction of understanding and support for her feelings.

“I’m so glad you’re healthy now.”

“… thank you.”

“Count Hebron will continue to keep you healthy, right? Someday, we’ll be able to go on outings and see the flowers together. Yes… all of us, including the duke.”

Elina blushed slightly.

From a third person’s perspective, it was a situation where a friend was sincerely celebrating another friend’s recovery…

“… thank you.”

But not for Agnes. To her, those words sounded more like talk of a .

Naturally, a dazed expression surfaced. Her thoughts emptied out. She had no idea what to say to a friend who seemed to want to become her stepmother.

Of course, Elina had no way of knowing Agnes’ true feelings. It would be strange for Elina, who had never once noticed Agnes’ true intentions, to suddenly realize them now.

“Your dress today is so beautiful. You’ll be the star of the banquet. I’m so proud and…”

“… thank you.”

It was then that Deltain intervened.

“Princess, let go of her hand.”

A strong sense of rejection was evident on Deltain’s face as he looked at Elina. Naturally, more than 90% of the reason why Agnes teased him lied with this woman.

Deltain still thought that if Agnes hadn’t met this woman, she would have been gentler than she was now.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Count. I was so happy that I forgot to thank you properly. Thank you for healing our Agnes.”

“Our Agnes, my foot. Anyway, let go of her hand first. She’s not in such great condition yet. Just because you’re excited doesn’t mean you can shake her around like that.”

Flick.

Deltain knocked away Elina’s hand, which had been shaking Agnes’ hand.

It was only then that Elina exclaimed, “Oh!” with a blush rising on her cheeks.

“My apologies…”

Elina’s gaze shifted back and forth between Agnes and Deltain. Seeing the smile forming on Elina’s face, Agnes’s fingertips trembled slightly.

Not wanting to imagine what might be going through her friend’s mind, Agnes emptied her thoughts once more.

“Well then, Agnes. Enjoy the banquet. I need to greet the other guests.”

“… goodbye.”

It was sincere.

Agnes waved her hand as Elina turned to leave.

“Deltain.”

“What? Oh, and just to be clear, there’s no way I was jealous of you holding hands with someone else, so don’t even think of saying that nonsense…”

“I heard you can distinguish people possessed by demons.”

Deltain tilted his head, puzzled. Agnes, still watching Elina’s departing figure, continued.

“Could you check Elina for me?”

“She didn’t seem possessed by a demon. In fact, people possessed by demons wouldn’t be like that…”

“Just check.”

Deltain’s eyes twitched. He didn’t add anything more, thinking that since Agnes knew the princess better than he did, and if she felt something was off, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

A blue lens appeared and flickered above Deltain’s left eye.

“… she’s perfectly fine.”

Agnes didn’t respond. Deltain, finding it odd, looked at her, but she was deep in thought, muttering something like, “That can’t be right…”

Feeling tired as soon as he entered the banquet hall, Deltain wondered what the heck he was doing.

*

It had been 30 minutes since they entered the banquet hall.

Unlike the attention they received when they entered, no one approached the two of them.

It was somewhat expected.

Agnes had only appeared in social gatherings seven times in her life, and even those were several years ago, so she had few connections. The only person who consistently approached her was Elina, the 7th princess.

As for Deltain, he didn’t enjoy banquets or socializing. He generally dismissed anyone who approached him. There were few people bold enough to engage with someone like him.

In other words, the two of them were just like pieces of art, drawing everyone’s gaze without anyone coming near them.

Was the banquet going to end with no one approaching them?

The thought was beginning to cross the minds of the nobles.

“This is quite a rare sight.”

An old gentleman, leaning on a cane, approached the two of them.

Upon his arrival, Agnes smiled and stood up, lifting the hem of her dress.

“Hello, Marquis Montbert.”

“Greetings, Princess.”

Marquis Montbert. A former comrade-in-arms of Deltain and the Chief Magician of the Imperial Court.

He spoke to Deltain.

“Aren’t you going to greet me?”

“Are you menopausal? Why do you nitpick everything?”

“Judging by your words, it seems your mind is still intact…”

“What?”

“It’s surprising. Both that you came to a banquet and that you brought a partner.”

Deltain’s face wrinkled.

“I came because Ishmark called me, and I brought her along since I treated her.”

“Ho…”

“Just patient care. Nothing more.”

Agnes widened her eyes.

“Is that so?”

She looked as though she was genuinely hurt, her face becoming sorrowful, prompting a sigh from somewhere in the banquet hall. The sight was so nauseatingly fake that Deltain ground his teeth as he whispered to Agnes.

“Tone it down.”

“Tone it down? What are you talking about?”

Agnes, feigning a pitiful expression, hung her head low. A vein popped on Deltain’s forehead.

Marquis Montbert, observing this amusing scene, finally spoke

As if to change the subject.

“… more importantly, does this mean she is involved in this matter as well?”

“This matter?”

“You don’t need to know about it. Don’t worry.”

Deltain said to Agnes while sipping his drink.

Agnes tilted her head in confusion.

“There’s nothing about your work that I don’t need to know.”

“Let me put it differently. There’s nothing you need to know.”

“I think we know each other too well for you to say something like that. Besides, your body…”

Agnes’s mouth snapped shut.

Deltain silently praised himself for his quick reflexes.

Even while doing so, his sharp eyes were glaring at Marquis Montbert.

“… mind your words.”

“I didn’t expect you to hide something.”

Marquis Montbert shrugged.

“I see you don’t want to talk about it with the princess.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that I don’t need to.”

“Understood. Oh, about the task you assigned…”

“Go ahead. Did you find anything?”

“Case number 3. I found a clue. There’s a legend among the barbarians of the snow mountains.”

Deltain’s eyes gleamed with interest.

This was a reaction to the progress made in the information gathering, which had been stagnant.

‘No. 3: Token of Endless Winter.’

Impatience flickered across Deltain’s face.

At that moment, Agnes poked Deltain’s cheek repeatedly.

Deltain frowned in annoyance but soon sighed and said.

“… stop talking nonsense.”

Agnes nodded.

Immediately, with a snap of fingers, Agnes’s mouth was freed.

“What is No. 3?”

That was her immediate question. Deltain answered indifferently,

“Research material.”

“You do a lot of research.”

“Did you think Arch Mages just happen?”

“Impressive. Should I give you a kiss?”

A young nobleman at the next table gasped. Deltain’s gaze shifted toward him. The young nobleman looked at Agnes with the expression of someone betrayed by his first love.

‘Fool.’

It seemed he had fallen for Agnes in that brief moment.

Deltain clicked his tongue at the young nobleman’s lack of composure.

Agnes giggled.

“Deltain, are you jealous?”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

The atmosphere shifted suddenly.

It was no longer a setting for serious conversation. Deltain, irritated, spoke to Marquis Montbert.

“… send me the details about No. 3 later in writing.”

“I’ll do that. Then I shall take my leave.”

“Do as you please.”

Marquis Montbert left.

Agnes, resting her chin on her hand, asked Deltain.

“So, you’re not going to tell me about the matter?”

“What would you do if you knew?”

“If it’s the Marquis’s business, it involves my father too. I know that much.”

She was pointing out that both Duke Levadine and Marquis Montbert were among Emperor Ishmark’s closest allies.

Deltain was exasperated by Agnes’s cunningness, which was bringing up her family.

“Have you ever worried about the duke?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t even pretend to be a good daughter.”

“So, you admit it’s an act.”

“It’s a harmless lie.”

Agnes laughed.

“So, what is it?”

Faced with Agnes’ persistent questioning, Deltain pondered for a moment.

‘… would it matter if I told her?’

In truth, it wouldn’t.

Deltain had kept his mouth shut because he had no intention of getting anyone deeply involved in this matter, but if Agnes wanted, it wouldn’t hurt to share the information with her.

Deltain asked.

“… do you like political talk?”

“I don’t love it or hate it, but I’m already getting bored.”

“Alright, to summarize briefly, the aristocratic faction is acting up, and the emperor is sharpening his sword. That’s it.”

“And what does that have to do with you?”

“Because I’m the one who made Ishmark the Emperor.”

“Do the nobles hate you?”

“No, they actually like me to the point of obsession. But still, since I’m close to Ishmark, whom they dislike, it irritates them. In short, it’s like this: to the aristocratic faction, it’s like the person they have a crush on is hanging out with someone they hate.”

“That makes sense.”

Agnes chuckled and then added a question.

“Then, His Majesty is quite the villain.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If this were a romance, His Majesty would be the one stealing the aristocratic faction’s crush and then flaunting it. Elina told me, in such situations, the loser usually ends up crying and…”

“Stop talking nonsense. I belong to no one. And get your brain cleaned.”

With that, Deltain fell silent.

It was a behavior he sometimes displayed when he had no intention of continuing a conversation.

The glass in front of him had already been replaced with a new one.

While Deltain was sipping from the glass.

“Deltain, someone’s coming.”

Agnes’ words made Deltain’s eyes shift.

Just as she said, a middle-aged man was walking toward them in the middle of the banquet hall.

He was short and stocky with a sallow complexion, golden-blond hair, a prominent hooked nose, and drooping eyes—quite a distinctive appearance.

Agnes asked.

“Who is he?”

“… the leader of those you were just talking about.”

“Oh. Marquis Grovin.”

“To me, he’s just a .”

As Deltain crossed his legs and spoke, Agnes looked at Marquis Grovin and thought.

‘He really does look like one.’

Like a goblin.