It truly was a miracle.

The fact that she regained her breath shortly after losing it was nothing short of miraculous.

Martiana herself could not comprehend how such a thing was possible. In fact, she was more bewildered by it than anyone.

She had been killed by that man’s blade, yet she was still alive.

Well, not entirely unscathed, to be precise.

‘It hurts…’

Still in a hazy state, she murmured faintly.

Although she could not explain what had happened, one thing was certain.

The wound where the man had stabbed her was deep.

Even breathing in sent waves of pain crashing through her.

‘It hurts so much.’

With every breath out, it felt as though raw flesh was being torn apart.

Perhaps it was fortunate, though.

The pain forced her mind to clear more quickly.

Martiana slowly and carefully surveyed her surroundings.

‘Dirt.’

She was lying on the bare ground.

A coarse, unidentifiable sackcloth was draped over her.

He must have thought she was dead and abandoned her there.

‘Is no one here?’

No.

From a short distance away, she heard someone grumbling.

“Tch, why are they taking so long? It’s been ages since I sent word that she’s dead.”

It was him.

Her body flinched involuntarily.

The knowledge that the man who had killed her was nearby made her skin prickle.

If he realizes I’m alive, he’ll k*ll me again.

Without thinking, Martiana held her breath.

Carefully, she lifted the cloth covering her and peered towards him.

“Once someone has been killed, that should be the end of it. Why do they need to come and confirm it afterwards? Do they really think I have nothing better to do?”

Fortunately, he was some distance away.

Judging by the way he kicked at a tree in irritation, he did not seem to be looking in her direction.

‘Come to think of it… is this the forest?’

It seemed to be the forest near the duchy. If she had been attacked nearby, this was the only possible location.

He must have brought her body here to avoid detection.

‘Good.’

With so many trees, there were plenty of places to hide. Moreover, she knew these paths well. She had often come here during her courtship with Siliar.

Martiana carefully pushed herself upright. The man was still grumbling and staring in one direction, as if waiting for someone to arrive from there.

“Tch, I have to get this replaced before sunset!”

He fidgeted with the torn pouch and stamped his foot. The noise was loud enough to allow Martiana to slip unnoticed into the nearby undergrowth.

Of course, hiding did not guarantee her safety.

‘I need to go farther.’

Sooner or later, he would notice. He would search the area.

If that happened, everything would start again.

Her body was already weak. With a wound like this, she would definitely die next time.

‘It hurts…’

Honestly, the pain alone was enough to k*ll her. She tried desperately to stifle her groans, but they escaped nonetheless, escaping through her clenched teeth.

Her whole body trembled. Cold sweat poured down her body like rain.

Could she escape in this state?

Should she return to the Vandyk duchy?

‘No.’

It was too far. And judging by the direction, she would have to pass by the man to get there.

Besides—

‘The one who sent that man…’

Martiana was certain that it was someone from the ducal house.

She was certain of it.

However, she did not want to suspect the family she had lived with for years. She did not want to entertain the idea.

But she could not deny what she had seen. The pouch that the man had guarded so carefully. The jewels that spilled across the ground when she tore it open.

That was her proof.

She could not say with certainty that each gem was payment for her life.

But she knew one thing.

Among the scattered jewels lay a pair of earrings: crimson rubies, red as blood.

Martiana knew exactly what they were.

“They were made by the first duke for his daughter.”

After they got married, her husband showed her the treasures of the Vandyk family. Of all the heirlooms, the rubies stood out in particular — they were brilliant and vivid, and impossible to forget.

They had even joked about passing them down to their children one day.

There was no chance of her being mistaken. And yet, those very earrings had belonged to the man who had tried to k*ll her.

What was she supposed to make of that?

‘Someone handed them over in exchange for my death.’

Perhaps the man was just a thief who stole them. But they were heirlooms. They weren’t everyday jewelry.

Would such valuable heirlooms be misplaced so easily? During her time at the duchy, she had never heard of a breach of security or a theft.

So who had given them as payment?

‘The family heirlooms are managed by the head of the house.’

The head of the Vandyk family was—

— her husband, the Duke of Vandyk.

“…”

At that thought, Martiana fell completely silent.

She wanted to reach a conclusion. She wanted to believe there was another explanation. But she had reached her limit.

The pain was getting worse. It was becoming harder to breathe.

For now, she had to leave this place.

Gripping her wound, Martiana forced herself to look around. The man was still pacing nearby, as if waiting for someone. The sharp, violent thuds of him kicking a tree echoed through the forest.

Using the noise as cover, she moved on.

Her destination was the small temple at the edge of the woods. She had visited it several times before while exploring the area.

If she could reach it, she could hide there.

The Marquessate of Kisca had produced High Priests for generations.

They would not turn away one of their own.

***

“We’ve found him!”

Several men rushed out of a small building, shouting loudly.

They were all members of the Capital Guard, wearing identical blue uniforms.

“Your Excellency, it’s this man. He’s been hiding here.”

One of the guards who had dragged a young woman out of the building approached the man seated on horseback.

It was Siliar Vandyk.

He had neatly kept ash-blonde hair. His distinctive crimson eyes revealed his lineage.

“The child?”

Siliar held the reins loosely and tilted his head. His sharp gaze made it clear that nothing else in this place mattered to him.

“Regrettably…”

The guard began to speak, his voice edged with bitterness. Usually, a report to one’s superior would be delivered without hesitation.

But this time, he could not bring himself to finish the sentence.

Part of the reason was grief — the death of a child was not something that could easily be spoken about. But, truth be told, it was because of the man standing before him.

Everyone in the Kingdom of Aetium knew what had happened to the Duke of Vandyk.

Siliar’s reaction before the guard could even finish his report spoke volumes.

“So the child is dead.”

His face hardened as he said the words the guard could not bring himself to utter. Then he guided his horse forward and approached the woman who had been dragged away.

“Or did you k*ll the child?”

Looking down at her from his horse, Siliar asked her a question. The lifelessness of his gaze was enough to make her tremble.

“N-no! The child has gone to a good place! She won’t be in pain there! The gods will save her!”

The woman clasped her hands together tightly and raised her voice. It was the kind of shrill tone that made you furrow your brow instinctively. She was disheveled, too.

Most unsettling of all were her words.

“The gods will save her?”

Siliar clicked his tongue in response to the incomprehensible claim. What she said was absurd, and what followed was too.

“Yes! The gods will heal the child! Once she is fully cured, she’ll return!”

The woman pointed to a bundle of cloth lying on the ground. She truly believed that the child would be brought back to life.

Her eyes were fixed on the cloth wrapped around the body and filled with hope. But that was precisely the problem.

To anyone else, it was madness.

“She’s lost her mind.”

Someone nearby muttered softly. It was impossible to tell whether they were one of the guards assigned to the case or a bystander in the crowd.

One thing was certain: no one agreed with her.

Therefore, Siliar hesitated not at all in passing judgement.

“Foolish.”

With that brief murmur, the woman’s neck was cut.

It happened in an instant.

There was no time for anyone to intervene. Even if there had been time, no one would have intervened.

Everyone present simply stood and stared at the woman lying crumpled on the ground, watching the blood pour from the wound in her throat and slowly spread across the stone pavement of the alleyway.

“As expected, Your Excellency shows no mercy in matters involving children.”

One of the guards, who had witnessed everything, muttered awkwardly beside him.

This was the outcome that everyone had anticipated from the moment Siliar took charge of the case. He was ruthless when children were involved.

“It started back then, didn’t it? His Excellency being like this.”

Another guard asked his companion. It was a question to which everyone already knew the answer.

In the Kingdom of Aetium, everyone knew what had happened to the Duke of Vandyk.

It was only that—

“Isn’t it time he let it go?”

Occasionally, someone would think such a thing.

“It’s been five years already. In that time, they could’ve had another child.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Why? Oh, right. The duchess isn’t in her right mind, is she? Tsk. Then they should just divorce—ugh!”

The guard, who had been rambling, suddenly clutched his side and doubled over in pain. His companion had jabbed him sharply.

Then, with a look, he indicated a spot.

At some point, Siliar Vandyk appeared before them.

“Y-Your Excellency.”

“Divorce.”

Looking down at his stammering subordinate, Siliar repeated the word slowly.

The slight furrow in his brow revealed his displeasure. The words that followed matched the harshness of his expression.

“That will never happen. So keep your mouth shut.”

In truth, not once in his life had he ever considered divorce.