“So…”

His voice, laced with a shallow sigh, filled the narrow room. It was the first thing he said after hearing her long, yet somehow still too brief, story.

“So Siliar demanded a divorce? And that’s why you left?”

“Yes.”

“You left, and then someone tried to k*ll you, so you ran?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s how you ended up here at the temple?”

“Yes.”

“Ha! Who on earth was that guy?! Never mind — forget him! Siliar, that d*mn fool! What did he mean when he was begging to marry you? And now he wants a divorce?”

Cursing in a manner entirely unbecoming of a priest, Lawrence shot to his feet. His breathing was rough and uneven, and his fury was evident in the tight distortion of his face.

Anyone who had known Siliar before the marriage would have reacted the same way.

It had been a love marriage.

At the time, Siliar’s mother — the Duchess of Vandyk — had vehemently opposed it, making life very difficult for Martiana. Because of that, Martiana’s two older brothers had also objected to the marriage.

“Our family cannot bow our heads like this. If things are already this bad before the wedding, how can we trust that her future will be peaceful?”

What had Siliar done in response?

He came every day for a whole month to beg. He even knelt down. He swore that he would persuade his parents no matter what happened.

Seeing him like that, Martiana pleaded too. In the end, her brothers had no choice but to give their consent.

If their parents had still been alive, they might have opposed it to the very end.

“And you! If you fought that hard to marry him, you should have lived well! You should’ve held on until the end!”

Lawrence lightly tapped Martiana on the shoulder and raised his voice.

He hated himself for hitting his fragile younger sister, but he couldn’t bear the pain any longer. It was absurd to suggest that she should have lived well, especially given that she had already lost a child and been so deeply wounded. And yet the words slipped out anyway.

“Why get a divorce…”

He was heartbroken.

The image of his little sister on her wedding day came vividly to mind: she had been smiling so brightly, as if she had gained the whole world. At that time, she had seemed happier than anyone else alive.

“Fool.”

Now, she looked like someone who had lost everything. She must have left without healing a single wound. No — she must have been driven out.

After all, he knew there were people over there who had been waiting for this divorce, watching and hoping for it.

“Don’t smile, you fool. What are you smiling for?”

Wiping at his reddened eyes, Lawrence shot Martiana a glare.

At that, she curved her lips faintly.

“I’m fine.”

“What nonsense. There’s no way you’re fine.”

“It’s just… maybe this was inevitable.”

Martiana lowered her gaze.

In truth, she knew that Lawrence was right. She wasn’t okay. She hadn’t wanted a divorce either.

But their marriage had already drifted too far apart. Once one person lets go, nothing can restore what was there before.

“So I left. If I had stayed there, I wouldn’t have been able to say any of this. Right?”

“As if that makes it better… Ha, what would Roald say if he heard this?”

Thinking of their second brother, who was in the Marquisate of Kisca, Lawrence let out a long sigh.

If Roald had been there instead, who knows what chaos might have ensued? Their younger brother’s temper was far hotter than his own. It would have been a miracle if he hadn’t gone straight to Siliar and punched someone.

“But for now, just welcome me. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m happy just to see your face, brother.”

Martiana smiled sheepishly and gave a small shrug. She didn’t mind being scolded.

Not here. Not when she was with her family. It was so different from the Vandyk ducal estate, where every seat had felt like a bed of thorns.

“I missed you.”

She had wanted to say that.

Martiana’s voice trembled slightly as she blamed her younger self for never reaching out.

“Yes. You did well to come. That’s enough. So what if you got divorced? Fine. It’s fine.”

Seeing his youngest sister on the verge of tears, Lawrence nodded. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but looking at her like this, what more could he add?

The only thing that mattered right now was comforting the person who had suffered the most.

“Don’t think about anything else. From now on, just live doing whatever you want. Roald and I will support you in everything.”

“Really?”

“Of course. If it’s what you want, what wouldn’t we do for you? What shall we start with? Travel? Food?”

“No. Something else.”

“What?”

Lawrence met Martiana’s gaze and waited for her to respond. It was only a fleeting moment, yet an overwhelming joy rose within him.

The mere fact that his sister, who had seemed on the brink of death for so long, now had her own desires, filled him with happiness. For that alone, he would give her anything.

Sincerely.

If she wanted to travel, he would send her around the world. If she wanted a house, he would build her a new one. If she longed for fine cuisine, he would let her taste every delicacy under the sun.

He had already prepared himself to grant her every wish.

But—

“I want to find Licorice.”

The answer that returned was entirely unexpected.

***

“Then we’ll process this missing person as deceased.”

At the entrance to the Vandyk ducal estate in the capital.

Nobil, who had just returned from the provinces after closing a case, spoke to Siliar. This was the final confirmation. From tomorrow, he would be busy drafting documents to present to the royal palace.

“Do so.”

Seated atop his horse, Siliar replied curtly. Everything had already been decided; there was nothing more to add.

And it was the truth.

“Shall I also submit Your Grace’s written statement to His Majesty?”

“I’ll handle that myself.”

“Well, after every case wraps up, His Majesty always summons you. I suppose he’ll call for you again this time.”

“…”

“Annoying, isn’t it?”

Nobil shrugged as if he already knew the answer. Whenever the king was mentioned, Siliar always reacted the same way.

“Be quiet.”

Siliar snapped curtly and turned his horse’s head.

It was an awkward response that was both dismissive and clearly indicated that their business was finished.

Nobil understood. He offered no further comment.

“Yes, then I’ll take my leave. Please rest well.”

After bowing respectfully, Nobil urged his horse forward.

Siliar watched his subordinate ride away into the distance for a moment, then turned towards the estate. Although it was only a few steps away, his pace felt slow.

Perhaps it was because there had been no results again. There was always a difference between having something — good news or bad — and having nothing.

More than that—

“The curtains. They’re not drawn.”

Standing a short distance away, Siliar gazed up at the second floor of the manor and muttered something under his breath. It was always the first place he checked when he returned.

Martiana’s room. It was the world she had confined herself to for five years.

He used to look at the window to gauge his wife’s mood. If the curtains were open, it meant she was having a good day. If they were closed, something had happened.

And now they were closed.

‘What is it this time?’

It unsettled him. It wasn’t just today; he felt the same tightening in his chest every time the window was shut.

On days when the window was open, his mood would lift, too. He would feel absurdly glad simply because he could catch a glimpse of Martiana from afar.

As it had become so difficult to face her directly, even catching a distant glimpse of her felt precious.

He was fearless everywhere else, so why could he never raise his head before his wife?

It had been almost a month since he last returned.

‘I missed her.’

He did. He truly did.

This was in addition to the exhaustion of searching for their daughter. What pained him was the look of disappointment in Martiana’s eyes. That was all. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her.

Although they had grown distant, his feelings had not changed. It was only the way they treated each other that had become strained and awkward.

Nevertheless, he believed that one day things would improve again.

If only they could find their daughter! Once she returned, everything would fall into place. He was certain of it.

This was why, even as time dragged on and exhaustion took its toll, he could not give up the search.

If he alone endured, perhaps the happiness they once shared would return.

He desperately longed for those days.

“Where is Mother?”

As soon as he arrived at the estate, Siliar dismounted and questioned the butler at once. The only reason he had come to see Drisena on his return was to ask her if anything had happened to Martiana.

If it had been anyone else, he would have asked the servants. But matters involving Martiana were different. She lived in the eastern wing of the estate, which was the women’s quarters.

More precisely, it was the domain overseen by the lady of the house.

Martiana had once managed that space herself. But everything changed after Licorice disappeared. All household affairs now passed through Drisena.

To be honest, he did not welcome the sight of his mother taking command of the household once again after she had long since stepped back. But there had been no other choice.

After losing their child, Martiana had nearly lost her sanity. She fainted repeatedly and was bedridden for days at a time. There was nothing she could properly oversee.

Siliar himself had repeatedly left in search of their daughter. He could not bring in outsiders — the solution had to come from within the family.

Drisena was the only suitable choice.

No one else knew the household as well as she did.

“The house feels unsettled.”

Siliar clicked his tongue quietly as he surveyed the area. It seemed that a thorough clean-up was underway, as there were several discarded items outside.

“Her Ladyship is preparing to receive guests soon, so things are being arranged,” the butler replied.

“Guests? Is that why Mother hasn’t come out?”

“No, Your Grace. She has gone out. She said she would not return for about three days.”

“Three days?”

Siliar frowned. It had taken longer than expected. There was something subtly different about the estate’s atmosphere. They were entertaining guests they had not previously received.

And—

“Why is that out here?”

Siliar halted mid-step. His gaze was fixed on a single spot.

Among the heap of discarded items that he had previously passed by without a second glance lay a painting.

If it had been an ordinary still life or landscape, he would have ignored it.

But it was a portrait.

Not just any portrait though — it was the family portrait they had commissioned to celebrate Licorice’s first birthday. The three of them, painted together.

And that had been thrown away?

That was a problem.

The butler’s next words only made matters worse.

“Her Ladyship discarded it before she left.”

“Discarded? Left?”

Left where?

Siliar turned sharply towards the butler, his face etched with incomprehension.

Now equally perplexed by his reaction, the butler continued hesitantly.

“Your Grace… didn’t the two of you divorce just last week?”