The room where Princess Iris was standing was an elegantly decorated chamber within the church, reserved only for royalty and high-ranking dignitaries.

The walls were adorned with finely embroidered tapestries depicting scenes of miracles and historical events of the kingdom, and the floor was covered by a soft red carpet with golden details.

In the center, a dark wooden table rested under the soft light of the chandeliers, casting long, flickering shadows throughout the room.

The decoration was simple but regal, and the religious symbols carved into the marble columns made it clear that this was a room where important matters were discussed.

In the middle of the room, standing beside the princess, was Hestia’s assistant healer, the same one who had treated Nolan the first time he came to the church.

She looked uneasy, her hands clasped in front of her and her expression serious as she listened to Iris.

“So, is it true that even Hestia couldn’t identify the type of core Nolan has?” the princess asked in a firm voice, though her eyes reflected a shadow of concern.

The healer nodded cautiously.

“Yes, Your Highness. Not even the Great Healer Hestia could determine the exact type of core. It’s... strange. None of us had ever seen anything like it before.”

Iris’s lips tightened, and her teeth ground together slightly.

This... was frustrating.

From the moment Nolan had been brought to the church, she had wanted to learn more about him, about the source of his power, but despite all the efforts from her faction’s people to uncover the truth, they were now stuck on something as basic as a magical core that no one could identify.

“This is unacceptable,” Iris muttered irritably. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. If even Hestia couldn’t figure it out right away, then... I at least want to see the state of those fragments with my own eyes. I think we’ll reach a conclusion faster that way...”

With a decisive movement, Iris stood up from her seat.

The healer followed closely behind, and both quickly left the room, walking briskly through the church’s hallways.

Finally, they arrived at the room where Nolan was resting. The entrance was guarded by two large, armored men with expressionless faces. But Iris came to a sudden halt when she saw someone else at the door.

“Cedric,” she murmured, her eyes flashing with surprise.

In front of the guards, quietly talking, stood her brother Cedric, accompanied by two women dressed in healer robes, clearly from his faction.

Her brother’s expression softened when he saw her, and a smile spread across his lips.

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It was a smile Princess Iris knew well.

It was the same smile he wore when acting like a hypocrite.

“Dear sister,” Cedric greeted her with a slight nod of his head. “What brings you here?”

Iris responded with her own smile, though it was a bit tense.

“The same as you, it seems.”

As they spoke, Iris noticed something strange.

The guards standing at the door weren’t the ones she had assigned.

Normally, as the daughter of the king, she had full control over who was responsible for security in certain areas, and at this moment, she had total priority in managing the matters involving Nolan.

But these faces... were unfamiliar.

“Brother,” Iris continued in a soft voice. “May I ask what you’re doing here with your... companions?” Her tone was polite, but there was a hidden warning behind every word.

Cedric smiled, leaning slightly forward.

“Oh, you know, I just wanted to make sure Nolan is well for my dear sister’s birthday party,” he replied in a casual tone, though his eyes gleamed with a mocking glint. “After all, he’s your special guest, isn’t he?”

Iris frowned, recognizing the sarcasm in Cedric’s voice.

“You didn’t need to worry so much. I’m already handling his treatment personally. There’s no need to bring more healers.”

Her words were sharp, and the implied accusation was clear: he was meddling where he didn’t belong.

“You should step away from him,” she continued, keeping her voice low so only he could hear. “If people see more healers around Nolan, they might start suspecting that he’s gravely ill. I’ve been handling this discreetly, ensuring that he’s treated privately. Otherwise, there will be rumors... and you know how quickly they spread.”

Cedric let out a small laugh.

“Rumors, rumors... isn’t it funny how everything around us lately is rumors?” He shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure our dear friend is in good shape for the big day tomorrow.”

“I appreciate the concern, Cedric, but everything is under control,” she replied, casting a suspicious glance at the guards.

Something wasn’t right.

Iris clenched her hands at her sides, maintaining her composure.

“So, will you let me through?” she asked firmly.

But the guards exchanged uncomfortable looks before speaking.

“Apologies, Your Highness. No one is allowed to enter the room.”

Iris raised an eyebrow, her patience slowly fading.

“Who gave that order?”

“They were orders from the king,” one of the guards replied firmly.

The words made Iris’s heart pound.

Her father?

He had assigned Nolan under her direct supervision.

Why would he change his mind without telling her?

Something was terribly wrong.

“That’s impossible,” Iris muttered, her voice low but dangerous. “The king gave that order without informing me?”

Suspicion turned into a cold sensation in her stomach.

Cedric remained to the side, watching with an inscrutable expression, though his eyes betrayed interest.

“Sister, I’ve been asking them the same thing for a while, and they won’t let me in either,” Cedric interjected with a frustrated grimace. “This is strange, even for our father.”

Iris nodded slowly.

Normally, her father was clear about important decisions, especially those that had already been delegated.

And now that something like this was happening, her intuition told her that this wasn’t just a precautionary measure.

*‘Seriously... why didn’t this idiot do something earlier?’* Iris thought, realizing that these people could be part of the group of traitors who had tried to ambush Nolan during his previous outing.

“Guards!” Iris called authoritatively, turning toward a nearby hallway to summon reinforcements.

But before she could act, a loud crash came from inside Nolan’s room.

The sound made her flinch, her eyes widening as she looked toward the door.

“What was that?” Cedric murmured, drawing his sword in one swift, fluid motion.

The two healers accompanying him instinctively stepped back.

The guards at the door took a defensive stance, gripping their weapons tightly as if expecting the worst.

“Cedric!” Iris exclaimed, her voice filled with alarm.

But her brother was already moving, his sword gleaming in his hand as he kept his eyes fixed on the closed door.

Another noise, this time louder, reverberated from the room.

Something was happening inside, something that shouldn’t be happening.