In response to all the gasps and whispers, I simply let out a dry, amused scoff. Then gently patted little Marco on the head.
"Throwning stones only works if they don't bounce back. If you want to kill me… pick up a sword."
The murmurs didn't die down, they only grew louder.
No one could quite make sense of what I'd just done. Not only did I spare someone who tried to harm me, but I'd even granted him special permission to be trained under the royal knights.
Yes, whisper louder. Spread your wild little rumors. That's exactly what I want.
Marco was still frozen, unable to comprehend what just happened, when Dylan cleared his throat and gave him a pointed look.
"Well? Aren't you going to thank Her Highness?"
Marco blinked as if waking from a dream, then quickly dropped to one knee, bewildered.
"Th-Thank you, Your Highness…"
Don't thank me just yet, boy. Just wait until you step foot inside the training camp. You'll probably end up cursing me instead.
