“Your Grace?”

Siliar frowned at the unexpected title. It was not a form of address ever heard at the constabulary.

Firstly, it was unusual for a noblewoman to visit the constabulary at all. No — ‘rare’ was not the right word. It simply never happened.

If a noble was involved in a case, officers would go to their estate to conduct the investigation. The same applied when filing a report. More often than not, a servant would be sent to summon an officer.

But to come in person? And a duchess, of all people?

In this kingdom, only two women could be called duchesses: the mistresses of the Houses of Vandyk and Roan. Of the two, the Duchess of Roan had died long ago, leaving the title vacant.

“Are you saying Martiana is here?”

Why here at the police station? Why?

Siliar asked, his face full of disbelief. Although he had come to the same conclusion himself, he still looked as though he could hardly believe it.

“I wouldn’t know. She said she had business here—but what reason would a noblewoman possibly have to come to a place like this?”

She must be here to see her husband.

As he watched his superior’s flustered reaction, Nobil gave a casual shrug. He answered lightly, but inside, he was just as startled.

After all, it had been him who had spotted Martiana first at the entrance to the constabulary.

Hurriedly, he handed her over to a subordinate — but not before nearly losing his composure. Who would have imagined that his direct superior’s wife would show up at his workplace?

And there she was: the woman who had long been rumored to be mad, standing there perfectly composed.

“For the moment, there was nowhere else suitable to receive her, so I had her shown to an interrogation room.”

“Why there of all places? Bring her here.”

“Where exactly would you receive her here? You should go down yourself, sir. If you’re going to talk, that would be the better place.”

At that—in this state?—Siliar shot him a look.

With deliberate precision, Nobil pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Truth be told, Siliar’s office was hardly fit for visitors.

Cases poured in day after day, leaving barely enough room to stand. Cleaning was out of the question.

Nevertheless, this room was better than most. Nobil could not even set foot in his own office. On days like this, it had become routine to borrow Siliar’s office instead.

“Is there anywhere else that’s at least somewhat presentable?”

“No, sir.”

“D*mn it.”

Siliar muttered the curse under his breath as he put his hand on his waist. He didn’t want Martiana to see him like this, but no matter how he thought about it, there was no other solution.

In the end, he ran an irritated hand through his hair.

“Exactly where is she?”

“Interrogation Room Six is vacant at the moment.”

You might as well head there.

No sooner had Nobil finished speaking than Siliar strode out of the room.

***

What a chaotic place!

Martiana’s first impression of the constabulary could be summed up in one thought:

‘So this is what it’s like.’

It was her first time setting foot inside. Although she had never visited before, she had heard enough stories to have a vague idea of what the atmosphere would be like.

But—

“Are you saying my words mean nothing? That bastard hit me first!”

“What nonsense! You ran off after pocketing my money!”

“Please, listen to me! My child is missing!”

“I’m telling you, he’s a fraud! He lied straight to my face!”

“Waaah! Please find my father!”

She had not expected this.

She had only taken a single step beyond the entrance when a torrent of voices crashed over her all at once.

It was utter chaos.

People were grabbing each other by the collar. Some were weeping, while others were screaming. Officers struggled to pull them apart while barking sharp commands over the uproar.

Martiana had never seen such disorder in her life.

“So this is the constabulary.”

“It is not a place a noblewoman would normally visit.”

Melissa answered from behind Martiana, who looked around, clearly bewildered.

Of the two siblings assigned as her guards, Melissa was the one who would stay with her during the day.

From the moment Martiana declared her intention to visit the constabulary, Melissa had disapproved. She had warned that nothing good would come of it. Lawrence had agreed with her.

They must have known what kind of scene awaited them here.

Martiana, unaware of this, insisted on coming anyway.

“Even now, might I suggest relocating? This is not somewhere you ought to remain for long, my lady.”

“Thank you for the advice. But it would be discourteous to the gentleman before me, so I shall stay a while longer.”

Martiana looked at the officer sitting opposite her and smiled gently.

She had been sitting face-to-face with a constable, whose name she did not know, for about five minutes.

She had been shown to Interrogation Room Six.

The officer’s duty was supposed to have ended once he had escorted her there, but—

“Then what should I do now?”

Martiana had stopped him.

“I would like to file a report about something that happened to me.”

For that very reason.

From the outset, that had been Martiana’s intention. It was the only reason she had come to a police station that she would otherwise never have set foot in.

She had made up her mind on the day her husband came to visit her. The day Lawrence asked her to consider returning to the House of Vandyk.

That day marked the beginning.

‘I have to go back there.”’

She realized this less than a day after leaving Siliar. Less than half a day had passed since she said she wouldn’t come back.

Although it was embarrassing to retract her words so quickly, that did not matter. If she wanted to see her daughter, she had no choice but to go back.

But—

‘Will I be able to endure it?’

That was what gave her pause. Would it truly be all right to return? If she did, she would see Drisena again.

“……”

The mere memory of that face made it difficult to breathe. Anyone who hadn’t experienced it first-hand would never understand.

Drisena would certainly tease her about it. After all, she had left of her own accord, only to come back.

If it were her mother-in-law, such treatment would be expected. Forged documents or not, she had never liked Martiana herself.

And now, the woman who should have died was standing before her, alive…

‘It will be worse.’

It would require tremendous resolve. If anything, the treatment would not be kinder.

Even so—

‘I will go.’

She had to. In that respect, her will did not waver.

If only she could confirm that her daughter was safe and see her face once more, she would do anything.

‘My child. My daughter. For you, your mother can do anything.’

If necessary, she could even give her life.

But she did not want it to be taken by someone else for reasons that had nothing to do with her child.

‘I need something that can protect me.’

Although Lawrence had arranged for her to have guards, this was not a long-term solution.

While they could protect her body, if her life itself was the target, the threat would persist for as long as she was alive.

This did not mean that she could openly demand that Drisena stop.

Even if she did, it would not matter. Drisena was not the sort to listen. She would simply deny everything, claiming that she had done nothing.

And there was no evidence.

‘Then I will find it.’

No matter what methods were required.

She concluded that the constabulary was the answer. There were no people more skilled at pursuing criminals.

In fact, it would be far less efficient for Martiana to act alone. Given her stamina, she would collapse long before achieving anything.

And besides—

‘If word spreads that the culprit is being hunted, might they not grow more cautious?’

Even better if that resulted in a tail wag.

Martiana lifted her head.

The officer seated opposite her had been watching her for some time. At some point, he took out a piece of paper and a pen.

“Y-You mean… you wish to file a report?”

“I do.”

“I see. Then…”

The constable hesitated, scratching his head. He held the pen, but seemed awkward.

He lifted the paper and glanced towards the door, seemingly uncertain what to do next. This seemed to be his first time dealing with such a matter.

Either that, or he was a new recruit, or perhaps he had never dealt with a noble before.

Or possibly both.

“Take your time.”

Martiana spoke gently as she waited. Visiting the constabulary was the only item on her agenda for the day and she was in no hurry.

As long as she achieved her goal, she could wait for as long as necessary.

“Thank you. I’m new here, so I’m still inexperienced.”

The officer bowed his head awkwardly. Then, as if steadying himself, he took a deep breath and unfolded the paper.

“If you would answer the questions.”

“Go ahead.”

Martiana nodded decisively. It was still somewhat awkward—but she welcomed the simple fact that it had begun.

And so, when the first question came, she opened her mouth as though she had been waiting for it.

“What is your name?”

The problem was—

“Mar—”

She had just begun to answer when—

“Martiana Vandyk.”

The reply came from behind her.

“She is my wife.”

Siliar’s voice.

She had not even noticed when he arrived, yet he answered in her stead.