It happened in an instant.

Neither Martiana nor Melissa saw it coming.

Martiana had just turned to speak when Melissa looked at her.

There was no time to react.

Suddenly, something flew in and hit Martiana.

“Ah!”

The unexpected impact sent her body swaying sideways.

Fortunately, Melissa caught her before she could fall. Otherwise, she might have tumbled down the stairs.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. You there!”

Still holding Martiana steady, Melissa raised her voice sharply and looked to the side.

At first, it was unclear who she was addressing, but following her gaze revealed a child standing there: They were a small child, no taller than Martiana’s waist.

It looked as though the child had rolled through dirt on the way there. Mud and leaves clung to their clothes and hair.

Startled by the sharp reprimand, thick tears streamed down their cheeks.

“S-Sor…ry… hng… I’m sorry…”

Then again, maybe they had been crying even before they bumped into her. Their words were broken and uneven, as if torn apart by sobs.

Martiana knew that sound well.

If one cried long enough—hard enough—the voice would splinter like that.

“I—I, hng, my br—brother, waaah!”

The child gulped for breath, hiccupping as the sobs burst forth again.

There were clearly many things they wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come, and frustration mingled with grief.

Martiana exchanged a glance with Melissa. She looked just as unsettled.

“Melissa, could you go inside and fetch an officer? I’ll calm this child down.”

“Understood.”

“My dear, speak slowly. Why are you crying? What brings you to the constabulary?”

After confirming that Melissa had entered the building, Martiana crouched down and asked her gently.

She had not yet heard the full story, but judging by the direction in which the child had run, it seemed that they had come looking for the police.

There was little else in this area.

A child crying like this often meant one thing.

“Did you lose your brother?”

She asked carefully, drawing from the fragments the child had uttered earlier.

It seemed that was not quite right.

“N-No! That’s not it!”

The child shook their head fiercely, scrubbing their face with their sleeve before forcing the words out—one at a time.

With great effort.

“My brother… my brother… was taken.”

“Taken?”

The word cut through the broken pronunciation.

Martiana’s expression stiffened.

If she had heard correctly, this was no small matter. Taken — kidnapped.

“Where? Where was he taken?”

“At… at home… hng, in front of our house. A man.”

“Yes.”

“He tried to take both of us, hng, I said I wouldn’t go, but he pulled me, and I was scared—waaah!”

The child dissolved into sobs again.

Reliving it must have caused the memory to resurface.

And with it came the fear.

Without thinking, Martiana pulled the child into her arms.

Having a family member taken from you right before your eyes while you stand there powerless — she knew that terror all too well.

When Licorice was taken, the world had felt cold instantly.

“It’s all right. It’s all right. The officers here will find him.”

She tightened her embrace and repeated the same reassurances over and over again.

They offered more than just comfort to the child.

Those words contained her own wish.

‘Please let them find this poor child’s brother.’

‘May what I am saying not become a lie.’

‘It was futile for me, but I hoped it would give you hope.’

She wished for it with all her heart.

Until Melissa returned with an officer in tow.

“Your Grace.”

Still crouched down, soothing the child, Martiana lifted her head at the sound of the call.

She had no idea how much time had passed.

The child in her arms had fallen asleep.

They must have been exhausted from running so far. The warmth and safety finally relaxed them.

“It seems the brother was taken from in front of their home. Please look into it.”

Martiana spoke softly as she transferred the sleeping child into the officer’s arms.

He nodded in acknowledgement and carefully took the child from her.

That should have been the end of her involvement.

Ordinarily, it would have been.

She had come to the constabulary because she could not solve her own problems. It would be wiser not to involve herself in the affairs of others.

And yet—

“While you search for the brother, I will act as the child’s guardian. If anything arises, contact me.”

For some reason, Martiana could not walk away.

Her feet refused to move easily.

“Please. Find him.”

Perhaps it was because the child was around the same age as Licorice.

Perhaps that was why she couldn’t just walk away.

Then again, maybe it was because she had already seen the chaos inside the constabulary.

Having witnessed that, she could not be sure that they would handle this child’s case properly.

And—

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

For no apparent reason, she felt that if they found the boy’s brother, she might also find her daughter.

There was no basis for this feeling. Not a shred.

And yet—still.

‘It’s just my wish.’

Yes.

She want that.

She want it for the child, and for herself too. She want there to be a day when they can both smile brightly together.

Martiana let out a small, bitter laugh.

She had thought it, but the idea left a sour taste in her mouth.

Because she knew it, too.

The truth was, she could not be sure.

The fact that she still wanted to believe it so badly was frightening enough to be hard to bear.

“Shall we go now?”

Ultimately, all she could do was let it slip away with a smile.

Martiana lifted one shoulder slightly and addressed Melissa.

If she wanted to shake off this feeling, she needed to get back to the ducal estate quickly. Once she had confirmed Licorice’s identity, it would all be over.

“Where is the carriage?”

“It will be waiting at that lane. I will call it over.”

“Please.”

Martiana nodded towards the carriage, which was standing some distance away.

It would have been better if Melissa had come with her, but Martiana felt as though she had exhausted her remaining strength.

She had only soothed one child, yet her arms were trembling slightly. So did her legs.

“Ah… no. I can’t.”

“Shall I sit down for a moment?”

A noblewoman would never do such a thing, but Martiana no longer cared.

If she didn’t, she felt she wouldn’t be able to walk any further.

It would be better to move to a quiet corner and—

“Hm?”

“Then what is that?”

Martiana’s brow furrowed as she searched for somewhere to sit.

Something caught her eye.

On the ordinary stone road, there was a dark stain.

It looked as though someone had spilled paint — or rather, smeared mud into the ground.

It was not the sort of thing one commonly saw, least of all out here on the street.

Least of all out here on the street.

“It wasn’t there a moment ago.”

She was certain of that much.

The spot had not been there before she had soothed the child. She remembered it clearly because she had been standing right next to it.

No, just slightly to the side.

So that must have been where the child had been standing.

‘What is it?’

Martiana craned her neck to take a closer look.

It was not far away. She could have walked over and examined it more closely, but she did not want to.

There was something about it that made her feel as though she shouldn’t approach it.

No one had told her, yet she had this feeling all the same.

A simple instinct.

She stared at it for a long moment, and then—

“Your Grace, please get in.”

“Oh—thank you.”

The voice calling her name brought her back to the present.

But now was not the time to dwell on that.

She needed to get back to the Vandyk estate quickly.

Martiana hurried into the carriage and took her seat.

***

“How long are you going to keep this up?!”

A woman kicked open the door and stormed down the corridor, shouting as loudly as she could.

It was extremely rude, but nobody in the household dared to stop her.

After all, she was Drisena, the Dowager Duchess of House Vandyk.

She had been in this state for days.

In fact, she had been unable to control her temper at all.

She shouted until her throat was hoarse and threw whatever she could reach over and over again.

The cause was the travel ban imposed by her son, the Duke.

Not to mention the interrogations by constables who had started to visit her.

“Make sure that wretch never comes again! Don’t let her set foot in this house!”

“But, madam… the master has—”

“If I tell you to do it, then do it! I’ll speak to Siliar myself!”

Drisena snapped, taking a sharp breath in as she clenched her fingers and crumpled the fabric of her skirt.

She had been asked the same questions for three days straight.

“Why did you forge the documents?”

Who instructed you?

Was there compensation involved?

All of these questions pointed squarely at what she had done.

The problem was that she had no way of answering them properly.

If she answered carelessly, would they think that she did not know what would happen?