His mother had already chosen another woman to be her future daughter-in-law and opposed the idea fiercely.

There was only one reason why.

“The Kisca Marquisate? That priestly family?”

It was Martiana’s family that she objected to.

“I hear they even send their children to seminaries meant for commoners. And you expect me to form ties with such a lowly house? I refuse!”

His mother would fly into a rage at the mere mention of Martiana’s name. His father was no different.

In his case, however, it was less that he truly opposed the match and more that he could not win against his wife.

“With your mother reacting like this, there is little I can do. I am sorry, Siliar.”

Even years later, Siliar could still remember the look of regret on his father’s face.

Nevertheless, he never gave up on Martiana.

Siliar was formidable in his stubbornness — a trait he may have inherited from his mother. Despite every objection, he sought her out every single day. He confessed his love to her repeatedly. He devoted all his time to being by her side.

To him, she was his one true love. There was no other possibility.

Two years passed this way.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, his father gave them permission to marry. This happened shortly before his death. Even his unyielding mother could not defy her husband’s final wish.

Siliar was overjoyed at that time — words could not express how happy he was.

He felt as though he had gained the entire world.

He wished that life could be made up of nothing but moments like their wedding day, their days as newlyweds, and the birth of their child.

“I love you, Martiana.”

Whenever he looked at his wife sleeping beside their child, he would whisper it.

“I love you, Licorice.”

He would press a kiss onto his daughter’s sleeping cheek as she rested in her mother’s arms; her face would always light up with a smile.

He would do anything for the two women in front of him. He would protect them until the day he died.

There were nights when he would make that vow alone in the dark.

Until that day.

“The child—!”

They lost her that day.

He had never imagined that such a thing could happen.

They had been ambushed on the way to the Kisca Marquisate to celebrate their daughter’s first birthday.

There were dozens of attackers.

The Vandyk escort numbered barely more than ten.

It was impossible to tell whether they were bandits or raiders. They surrounded the ducal carriage without hesitation.

“Martiana, stay with Lili!”

Determined to protect his family, Siliar stepped forward to confront the enemy. The knights who had accompanied them did the same.

Fortunately, the attackers lacked skill, despite outnumbering them. They were opponents that Siliar could easily defeat.

But—

“No! No! Lili! My baby!”

Only the child was lost in the brief chaos that ensued.

From the outset, she had been their target. Their clash with Siliar and the knights had merely been a distraction.

Without hesitation, the raiders tore the child from her mother’s arms with violence.

Martiana fought desperately, but she could not overpower several grown men charging at her all at once.

“Waaah!”

The baby’s cry rang out above her fallen mother.

“Siliar, Licorice! Find our daughter!”

The mother’s desperate voice scraped against the ground.

Siliar and the knights set off in pursuit immediately, but could not find their daughter.

It was as if the criminals had planned ahead; they disappeared in an instant.

Despair remained. Grief.

These emotions consumed the parents.

“I’m sorry, Martiana. I’ll find her. No matter what, I’ll find her.”

Inside the empty carriage, Siliar held his unconscious wife in his arms and wept uncontrollably. Even after they returned to the house, where their child’s belongings were still scattered as they had been, his sobs would not stop.

From that day on, their lives became a living hell.

Martiana blamed herself for failing to protect their daughter. Siliar tormented himself for failing to protect his family.

They exhausted every possible means to find their child, chasing every lead and clinging to every rumor. But nothing came of it.

With each passing day, their fragile hope faded a little more.

“If this continues, Her Ladyship’s health will be in danger.”

The doctor spoke urgently as he watched Martiana grow weaker day by day. She refused food. She wouldn’t even swallow water.

“Martiana, please. At this rate, you’ll die first. I’ll find her somehow, so—”

Siliar grasped her skeletal frame and swallowed back his tears. He had never felt so powerless in his life.

Perhaps that was why he clung even more fiercely to the search.

He had already lost his child. He could not lose his wife as well.

The only way to restore Martiana to her former self was to find their daughter.

So Siliar searched. For a long time.

Do you know what he found?

“She says she wants to part. Every time she sees you, she’s reminded of the child. She says it’s driving her mad.”

After pursuing a lead for weeks, he finally returned home—only to find this waiting for him.

Drisena spoke to him, pity evident in her eyes. She said that the words had come from Martiana, who was too overcome with emotion to speak for herself.

“Martiana said that?”

Siliar’s face hardened.

“Yes. The child looked exactly like you—your hair, your eyes. Of course she’s reminded. Truly, some people have endured years of suffering like this.”

“….”

“Honestly, aren’t you tired too? Perhaps you should separate and start a new family—Siliar?”

He did not hear the rest of Drisena’s words. He walked away. In truth, he did not want to hear anything more.

He had to confirm it himself. He had to know if those words truly came from Martiana.

“Martiana. Do you truly—!”

And then—what had she done?

She started to avoid his gaze, as though she couldn’t bear to look at him.

That was when he understood.

Ah. It was true. She truly didn’t want to see him. He reminded her of their child. Their child had looked like him.

Would she look at him again if he changed his hair color? Would it make a difference if he hid his eyes?

No matter how many times he asked himself these questions, the answer was always the same.

“Enough! Can’t you see how your wife recoils at the sight of you? She hates this house. She wants to leave. Everything here reminds her of the child. So divorce her!”

“I cannot.”

“Just divorce her! Send her away! Do you want her to wither away and die? She says she doesn’t want you. She says she hates this house. Why are you holding on?”

“Even so, I cannot.”

Whenever they crossed paths, his mother would hurl insults at him that she claimed were from Martiana. Martiana supposedly felt the same way, but could not bring herself to say these things to his face.

To avoid hearing them, Siliar eventually started avoiding Martiana altogether.

It was not only exhaustion; he could not bear the disappointment he thought he saw in her eyes.

What he feared most was divorce.

They had no heir. What if she left him? What if she told him she hated him?

He could not hate her. He simply could not.

Each time his mother repeated those cruel words, it felt as though another blade was being carved into his heart.

And yet — Martiana.

‘How could you let me go so easily?’

‘I cannot do the same.’

‘We cherished each other for so many years. Were those days not as precious to you as they were to me?’

‘The truth is…’

‘It hurt me too much.’

‘In fact, I resented you for it because it hurt so deeply. I was furious when you said you could abandon me. I hated that you could even think such a thing, let alone say it.’

“Are you sure you want to end this? Why? I know you’re suffering. But I’m suffering too. I lost our daughter, too. How long are you going to stay silent? Say something! Say anything!”

There had once been a time when he would shout like that.

And yet, Martiana…

There was one day—just one—when he completely lost his composure. On that day, he could neither hate her nor avoid her.

It was their child’s birthday.

He had been searching for Licorice that day as well, still not knowing where she was. But he was unbearably exhausted.

Perhaps it was because he had seen a family of three walking hand in hand. Or because he had heard a birthday song being sung for a child born on the same day as theirs.

Or perhaps it had been something someone had said to him.

“It’s been five years now, Siliar. If she hasn’t been found by now… forgive me, but shouldn’t we assume she’s dead?”

If she had heard those words, she would have been furious. But he could not answer. He did not want to accept what had been said, yet he could not deny that there was some truth in it.

Instead, he secretly went to see her. He made his way quietly to her room.

She looked so small. So fragile.

She was asleep and crying.

From the way she was clutching Licorice’s clothes tightly in her hand, he knew she must have been thinking the same thing as him.

Reaching out to her gently, he smoothed her hair with trembling fingers. Then he pulled her into his arms from behind.

All he wanted was warmth. He wanted to feel her body heat against his.

Because he still needed her.

And that had never changed.

He still needed her.

***

Creak.

The heavy door opened, and Siliar stepped out.

Unlike before, his face was subdued, as though he had stripped himself bare of everything.

“Where did she go?”

His low voice echoed through the corridor. It was heavy as stone. The butler, who had been waiting, swallowed hard.

“She went to the villa on the outskirts of the capital.”

No names were mentioned. It didn’t need to be.

Martiana.

Siliar was determined to bring her back.