The place Calix had slipped away to in the middle of the night was none other than the old convent.

At night, the rising tide cut the island off from the mainland, so getting there required a boat—a slow and quiet crossing that kept him out of anyone’s sight.

“Does anyone even live in a place like this?”

Zenfri muttered as he struggled to force open the heavy, locked doors of the convent, suspicion plain in his voice.

And indeed, he was right.

There was no sign that anyone had lived there in a long time. Not a single vagrant — let alone a young girl in a hooded robe — had set foot in these ruins for years.

He had previously sent people to gather information about the place, and what he could now see with his own eyes matched what he had heard.

However, experiencing the emptiness firsthand brought a different sort of heaviness to Calix’s chest.

All he wanted was the slightest trace — anything at all — to prove that the girl who had saved him had once existed. But not a single sign of her could be found anywhere in the vast, silent halls.

“D*mn it…”

He had always planned to return for her once the war with the Empire had ended. He couldn’t whisk his own saviour away while the world was so unstable, so he had no choice but to wait.

Ultimately, however, he found nothing.

The convent was completely deserted and so empty that he began to doubt whether the girl had ever existed.

Could a promise to stay in such a place forever truly vanish overnight? No, he pushed away the uneasy thought.

‘No. She was real. I know she was.’

If it had all been a dream, he wouldn’t have survived. It was her presence—her care—that brought him back from the brink of death.

Which meant she must have left on her own—or something had forced her out…

A chilling suspicion crept in, but Calix forced himself to tamp it down and turned to head back to the carriages.

But then, as he approached, something else caught his eye.

“…Selina?”

The inside of the carriage was completely empty.

Selina was gone.

Even the coat he’d lent her had been dropped to the ground, abandoned in her rush. A sudden, sickening weight settled in Calix’s chest as he realized she was missing, and he immediately began searching for any trace she’d left behind.

Around the carriage, small footprints were pressed into the soft earth—clear, childlike marks left with every uncertain step.

He followed them into the forest.

The prints led toward the cliffs, then turned back into the woods, crossing and doubling back again and again. It was obvious she’d gotten lost several times, her tracks overlapping in her confusion.

At last, the trail ended—

There, crumpled on the ground and quietly sobbing, was Selina.

Why did the sight of her—shaking and so vulnerable—send such a cold, anxious jolt through his heart?

He’d only ever planned to use her, nothing more than a convenient pawn. So why, seeing her like this, did he feel this growing, irrational sense of dread?

‘Am I… am I seeing her as that girl?’

Why did he see the lost, cloaked child from his memories in Selina’s fragile figure, when they had nothing in common?

For a moment, Calix nearly cursed aloud, fighting to keep his turmoil in check as he stepped closer and hauled her to her feet.

Caked in dirt, she looked exactly like someone who’d been caught trying to run away.

Wasn’t it only yesterday that she’d clung to him, desperate to marry—had her feelings changed so quickly? Or maybe, he thought with a hardening expression, this had been her intention all along.

If Selina vanished at the border—at night, no less, where monsters roamed—the blame would fall entirely on Thalia’s soldiers. It would be the perfect pretext to frame Thalia for her disappearance and plunge everything into chaos.

A cold, icy resolve settled over Calix’s features. He stared at Selina as she whimpered.

“How am I supposed to find my way back…?”

Even that frail, murmured voice sounded like an act to him now.

He clenched his jaw, determined not to show any hint of emotion. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. To betray even a flicker of anger would mean she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.

But the more Calix spoke to her, the harder it became to control the storm of anger roiling in his chest.

“So, did you know this was near the border and deliberately try to run away?”

At present, Thalia’s soldiers had secured the area, but it was impossible to predict when monsters might leap from hiding.

Thalia had desperately wanted peace after the war with the Empire for one reason above all: the number of monsters had exploded out of control. Not only were they stronger than ever, but their numbers now made them impossible to manage.

The monsters near the border were especially dangerous—far more than the average beast—so the Thalian army had always made camp at night rather than risk travel in the darkness.

“I—I didn’t run away. I just…”

Did Selina know this? He couldn’t be sure. Nor could Calix make sense of his own anger.

Was he furious because she’d tried to endanger his soldiers, or because she’d wandered, clueless and alone, through territory crawling with monsters?

Maybe, deep down, he’d wanted her to give him an honest explanation—anything that might soften his heart.

But all she gave was another flimsy excuse.

“I was just looking around and got lost.”

The moment he heard that, whatever pity or vague concern he’d had for her froze over in an instant.

“I was too generous with you, being the Marquis’s daughter.”

He realized now that even the smallest kindness toward the crafty Marquis’s daughter had been a mistake. So Calix kept his distance, refusing to let her near.

He kept a close eye on her, looking out for any signs that she might try to escape again or put the Thalian army in danger.

Perhaps because he had not told anyone about her attempted escape, the Thalian soldiers had begun to grow fond of Selina.

They only saw a delicate, pitiable girl, unaware of her true intentions.

“Is something troubling you, milady?”

Even Rochester, who was usually so open about his feelings, was now approaching Selina. Although he was naturally kind to everyone, seeing him enter the carriage just to talk to her was something that Calix simply couldn’t ignore.

A faint voice at the back of his mind questioned his feelings, but he paid it no heed. He simply strode over to the carriage and opened the door.

“Y-Your Grace…?”

Selina looked up at him in surprise, and Calix found himself…relieved. D*mn it, what was that feeling supposed to be?

“Get out.”

He led her away, intending to stop at one final place before entering Thalia. Since Selina’s dress had been torn to shreds when she fell down the hillside, they had had to improvise. One of the soldiers had offered a dress he had intended to give his wife as a gift, but this was only a temporary solution. They needed something new now.

Fortunately, there was a small city just outside Thalia’s capital, which, as expected, had a dress shop selling ready-made women’s clothing.

When Calix walked in with Selina, the middle-aged woman at the counter — clearly the shop’s owner — looked at them in shock. Judging by their appearance and manner, these two were no ordinary customers.

But this wasn’t the sort of famous shop that nobles usually visited, and besides, aristocrats generally sent word ahead before shopping in person.

So, guessing they must have some special circumstances, the owner—Lora—approached Selina and asked gently,

“Are you here to have a dress fitted?”

“No.”

The answer came, not from the lovely young lady, but from the handsome gentleman by her side.

“She needs something she can wear right now. Anything in her size will do—bring whatever you have.”

“Oh, yes, of course! I’ll check in the workroom and bring some out for you. Please wait just a moment.”

The shopkeeper disappeared to search for suitable clothes, and Calix sat down, elegantly crossing his long legs.

Selina hovered at his side, fidgeting with her fingers, completely at a loss for what to do in this unfamiliar situation.

Calix looked up, taking in her awkward stance, and spoke in a low voice.

“Are you trying to protest something?”

“Huh? What do you mean…?”

“You’re standing as if you don’t want to sit next to me.”

Only then did Selina notice there was an empty chair right beside him. She’d never been in a shop like this before—she simply didn’t know what she was supposed to do, but she couldn’t very well admit as much…

“That’s not it.”

Selina replied quickly, easing herself into the seat beside him. A tense silence hung between them—until, thankfully, Lora returned with several dresses draped over her arms.
“I brought a few options, but I’m not sure any will fit the lady’s frame. Would you come over here for a moment?”

Selina practically leapt at the invitation, grateful for the chance to escape the awkwardness. Lora ushered her behind a curtained partition and began helping her change.

“Hm…”

Even after dressing Selina in the smallest ready-made piece she had, Lora frowned with concern. The waist and sleeves hung loose; clearly, none of the garments fit properly.

“Oh dear, what should we do? Everything is much too big for you, miss…”

Lora tried gathering the excess fabric with pins, but it was little use.

At that moment, the curtain suddenly parted and Calix stepped inside. His expression was as steady and serious as ever. After taking in Selina’s appearance, he addressed her in a calm, measured tone.

“Have it altered first.”