[The invitations were sent to the guests earlier this year. If I do not attend, it will bring disgrace upon the House of Strilland. I do not wish to bring shame upon you. Please try to understand the concerns of a mother for her son.]

The heavy, forceful strokes that filled the page seemed to mirror Lady Noma’s state of mind.

Perhaps it wounded her pride to write such carefully contrived words, because the subsequent lines grew faint, as though the ink itself had begun to thin. She must have paused repeatedly, hesitating, until the tip of her pen nearly ran dry.

Aiden skimmed over the long-winded explanations and went straight to the heart of the letter.

[It is the memorial service that we have held every year. I beg you to allow it. If I could leave the West Wing for just one day, that would be enough. I know I have not been a good mother. Even if you feel no affection for me, I will not resent you. But not your sister. Not her. So, please—if only for Nadia’s sake…]

“……”

Aiden slowly lifted his head.

Rain slanted in sharply. Despite the makeshift canopy, they were still exposed to the elements.

Dark stains began to spread across the paper. Dennis quickly tucked the letter into his coat.

“Your Grace, perhaps you should return for today.”

“……”

Aiden raised the bow once more. The arrow pierced the rain and shot forward.

He bit down on his red lips until they bled.

It had rained that day, too.

That Saturday, when he was still no more than a toddler, he had been abducted alongside newborn Nadia.

“Poor Nadia.”

It was a phrase his mother repeated like a refrain.

Aiden understood why she despised Sveta. In one way or another, Sveta was still connected to Zloytan.

But what troubled his mother so deeply had never truly troubled him.

What he had once felt for Sveta was nothing more than a desire to possess her — the same kind of attachment one might have to a bow or a horse. Something that could be replaced at any time.

That was all it had ever been.

And yet…

At some point, her feelings had begun to matter.

He disliked it when Sveta was angry with him. He disliked seeing her tremble in the cold, her fragile body shaking. He disliked it when she skipped meals.

Perhaps this uncertainty stirring in his chest was no longer about possession.

Maybe it was something warmer — something that lingered beneath his skin, restless and impossible to ignore.

He had to make a decision today.

Tomorrow, on the anniversary of his sister’s death, his indecision would feel like an insult to her memory.

“Your Grace, the quiver is empty.”

Dennis handed him the final arrow.

It flew without faltering and struck the target, its fletching quivering.

“Bring more.”

Soaked to the bone and pale from the cold, his aide hurried to fetch another quiver.

Drawing a fresh arrow, Aiden spoke evenly.

“Permit the memorial.”

***

The following afternoon, a long procession of visitors dressed in black entered Revenew Forest in light rain. At the front walked Lady Noma, her face hidden behind a black veil.

Every year, the nobles who had lost children to Zloytan gathered here. They spent the day sharing their grief at the empty graves prepared deep within the forest for children whose bodies had never been found.

“……”

Aiden watched them from a distance.

He had never attended the memorial before.

Ever since the day his mother clung to him — the only child to return alive — and wailed in despair, he had seen himself as a sinner.

There was no place for a sinner at such a gathering.

Perhaps he could have gone alone to visit his sister’s grave just once. But he could not bring himself to stand in a place intended to honor her.

He had not yet finished his revenge.

‘Poor Nadia.’

He spoke her name only in his heart.

“My lord, it is ready.”

The sound of Pailin’s low voice broke through his train of thought.

He nodded slightly and stepped forward. Pailin followed behind.

Without hurrying or slowing down, Aiden walked in the opposite direction to where his mother had gone.

At the edge of the forest, the waiting knights and soldiers bowed as soon as they saw him.

“Your Grace, here.”

A white-haired knight approached Aiden and handed him a heavy sword.

Aiden drew it from its scabbard.

Shrrrng!

Despite its broad blade, the sword rang out with a clear, sharp sound. Its finely honed edge exuded a sinister aura.

He dragged the tip across the mud and advanced.

Over the course of a year, they had gathered two men for today.

They had both taken part in ‘Bloody Saturday’.

“Hrrrgh…”

The barbarian kneeling before him had been gagged and denied the dignity of making a final statement.

As if protesting against this injustice, a low, beast-like groan emanated endlessly from behind the gag.

Aiden’s cold green eyes lifted briefly towards the darkened sky.

It was his own quiet ritual — to look towards the place where his sister might be.

The dozens of knights and soldiers surrounding him followed his lead, raising their eyes in silent unison.

A moment later, Aiden raised his sword.

There was not the slightest hesitation in the strike that followed.

Shhk.

The blade came down with merciless force, cleaving through the wretched body before him.

The two condemned figures crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

It was an empty end.

“Your Grace, please—allow me.”

The old knight extended his hand to retrieve the sword.

But Aiden tightened his grip.

“……”

A mixture of blood and rainwater ran down the blade of the sword and seeped into Aiden’s palm.

Aiden remembered the moment his sister had died in his arms and the terrible warmth that had seeped into his hands.

His fingertips trembled faintly.

“…Are you all right, my lord?”

“……”

He declined the handkerchief that Pailin offered him. Instead, he clenched his fist, trapping the enemy’s metallic blood inside.

His chest churned. An overwhelming and formless unease seeped into his dry, exhausted heart.

Relief.

That was all he needed right now.

Inevitably, he thought of her.

***

It was a rainy morning.

“Ahem.”

The low sound of someone clearing his throat stirred Sveta from her deep sleep.

Through her hazy vision, a man like a massive hunting hound stood before her, his sharp eyes lowered.

“Sir Pailin?”

She must have slept deeply—she had not heard the knock at all.

Leaning carelessly back in the wing chair, Sveta straightened her posture.

“I must have dozed off… It’s been a while.”

Pailin was always watching over her from a distance, carefully concealing his presence. It had been a long time since she had seen his face up close, and that made her quietly happy for some reason.

When she offered him a gentle smile, he quickly turned his head away.

He always avoided her gaze like this.

This might have felt insulting to someone else, but Sveta did not mind.

Pailin was a shy man. The way he averted his eyes whenever their gazes met, like a flustered boy, proved that beyond doubt.

“I will be absent from this afternoon until evening.”

“Is something happening?”

His brown lashes fluttered as he swallowed hard. After a moment, he spoke.

“Today is the death anniversary of the late princess.”

“……”

“My lord will not be in good spirits today, so…”

“I understand, Sir Pailin. I’ll behave.”

“…Yes.”

He bowed politely and closed the door with care before leaving.

‘Then… does that mean there’s no one watching today?’

She could not run at once—but the mere thought that no one stood guard outside made her heart pound.

***

By the time the steady rain had softened into a light drizzle, Beth arrived carrying a large laundry basket.

She took out the freshly washed linen dresses and indoor robes, placing them neatly where they belonged. Her movements were efficient, without a single wasted gesture.

She seemed busier than usual, perhaps trying to find time to talk.

Growing anxious, Sveta followed her quickly.

“Listen carefully, Sveta.”

“Mm.”

Finally, Beth spoke, his expression unusually grave.

Sveta’s entire body stiffened.

They whispered in low voices. Despite knowing that Pailin was not on guard duty today, they still did so.

“Lady Noma said she’ll meet an ally disguised as one of the mourners today. That person will get us out to Prisada.”

“How?”

“By ship. There’s someone who handles… this kind of work.”

“This kind of… work?”

Sveta stared at Beth with dazed eyes.

Beth seized her by both arms.

“I mean someone who takes care of all the dark matters of noble families. We’ll disappear from Aetania without a trace. The duke won’t be able to find you.”

The surge of tension and pressure made Sveta’s ankles throb.

Beth’s strength seemed to falter as well. The two of them sank to their knees on the floor.

“Sveta, are you all right?”

“Yes… But I still don’t trust Lady Noma.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Trust me.”

“……”

Beth wrapped her arms around Sveta’s back.

“Lady Noma said that this is the last chance she’s going to give you. She told you never to show your face here again. If you appear before the duke again, she will certainly have you killed.”

Sveta had already prepared herself for these words.

Hadn’t Lady Noma framed her once before just to get rid of her?

She did not believe that Aiden would search for her for long.

If she disappeared, he would forget about her just as easily.

All she had to do was vanish

“When are we leaving?”

“In a few days. So steel your heart, all right?”

“All right.”

She wrapped her arms around Beth in return.

Even in each other’s embrace, the trembling did not cease.

“It’s all right, Sveta. Everything will be fine.”

For some reason, those words made Sveta’s eyes burn.

To stop herself from crying, she lifted her head.

Her wandering gaze fell upon a pink rose.

She hadn’t been able to throw away the single flower he had picked for her.

Instead, she had carefully placed it in a slender vase.

She had even replaced the large golden vase that always sat on the table with the small one.

The wilting rose looked too much like her broken heart.

Her sadness deepened.

Holding Beth tighter, Sveta made herself a promise.

‘When that flower withers, I will leave him.’

And then, the opportunity arrived when she least expected it.