A little while later, Gretel returned to the bedroom, having washed her face and composed herself.

She sat on the edge of the bed with a forced smile.

“Libby, it’s time for bed.”

“…Can I read just a little longer? I’m not sleepy yet.”

“But your body worked hard today. You need to rest to recover.”

“Alright.”

At her mother’s gentle persuasion, Laviela shrugged and placed her book on the bedside table.

As the girl crawled toward her pillow, Gretel added more firewood to the fireplace, lost in thought.

‘Should I stoke the fire more?’

Though the weather was warming slightly, it was still cold enough that the snow hadn’t melted.

Given Laviela’s frail health and her earlier tumble in the snow, Gretel worried she might catch a cold.

“Libby, are you cold? Should I add more—”

“Mom, here.”

Before Gretel could finish her sentence, Laviela appeared behind her, holding something she had pulled from under her pillow.

Gretel blinked and looked at it under the firelight.

“Libby, what’s this…?”

“It’s a gift. I can fold another one, so you can have it.”

Turning her head away with a pout, Laviela placed the paper bird in her mother’s hand and quickly scampered back to bed.

The girl buried herself under the blankets, pulling them over her head. She didn’t move again.

Gretel stared at her daughter in a daze before lowering her gaze to the paper bird.

Noticing faint letters on the inside of the bird’s wing, she carefully unfolded it.

In slightly crooked but heartfelt handwriting, Laviela had written:

<Mom is the prettiest when she smiles.>

“…”

The moment she read those words, Gretel almost burst into tears again.

She barely managed to hold them back, refolded the paper bird, and placed it on the table.

Then she approached the bed.

At the sound of her footsteps, the blankets trembled slightly.

Unable to suppress a laugh, Gretel exclaimed, “You little rascal! Doing something this adorable!”

“D-Don’t pull the blanket off!”

Laviela flailed her legs as Gretel pretended to tug at the blanket.

Through the fabric, Gretel glimpsed her daughter’s face, flushed bright red with embarrassment.

After a playful struggle, Gretel let go of the blanket and smiled warmly.

Laviela, still pouting, suddenly muttered.

“Mom.”

“Yes?”

“I’m fine.”

“…”

“It’s those men who were wrong. Don’t act like you did something wrong.”

With that, Laviela pulled the blanket over her head again and lay still.

Gretel stared at the lump under the blanket for a moment before smiling through her tears.

“…Alright. I won’t.”

“Geez. I told you not to cry.”

Hearing the wetness in her mother’s voice, Laviela grumbled in exasperation and sat up.

The girl hugged Gretel tightly and patted her back.

Gretel held her small, delicate daughter, who fit snugly in her arms, tightly against her chest.

A look of determination settled on her face.

‘Mom will save you, no matter what.’

After all, wasn’t her life something she had clung to for this very purpose? She didn’t regret sacrificing herself for her daughter.

Gretel made that vow firmly.

At the same time…

‘Mom, you’ll live. Instead of me, live happily.’

Laviela, nestled in Gretel’s embrace, was also deep in her own thoughts.

If her short life was nearing its end anyway, she wanted to dedicate it to ensuring her mother, Gretel, could be happy.

Though their thoughts were entirely opposite, the warmth they shared in their embrace was the same.

Outside the window, the cold yet serene northern night deepened.

—

A few days later.

‘W-What the hell…?’

Laviela clung to Gretel’s skirt, her face pale with shock.

“The Marquis has ordered that both of you be escorted to the capital. Please prepare to leave.”

This soon?

—

Let’s rewind the clock a bit.

“Libby, are you reading again?”

“Yeah.”

Over the past few days, I had spent my time reading diligently while waiting for the wounds I got from rolling in the snow to heal.

In truth, I was only pretending to read while brainstorming ways to escape.

Peeking over the edge of the book, I glanced at my mother sewing nearby, then turned my eyes to the newspaper tucked between the pages.

‘It’s already been over a week since the news about Patrick’s confirmation as Duke Bryan was published… The Marquis is probably dreaming big by now.’

In the novel, Patrick received a marriage proposal from the Marquis Diarmuid just before returning to the capital.

[Hmm. The Diarmuid household, huh…]

[Accept it. But remember, that man is as sly as a snake. Think of it as a temporary alliance until the Bryan Duchy is fully established.]

After some deliberation, Patrick decided to accept the proposal to marry Gretel Diarmuid, following the advice of his comrade and strategist. Then, he returned to the capital and headed to a café to meet her.

‘But instead, he ends up meeting the female protagonist there.’

In the novel, Gretel missed her meeting with Patrick because her daughter, Laviela, fell gravely ill on the day of their appointment.

Unaware of this, Patrick arrived at the café well before the agreed time and waited for Gretel.

It was then that the novel’s female protagonist, the princess, barged into the café.

She had heard from her only friend that the man her friend had a crush on often visited that café. Mistaking Patrick for her friend’s crush due to his similar appearance, she plopped down in the empty seat across from him. And so, the original novel began.

‘…When I read the novel, I thought it was thrilling and loved it.’

But now that I was living in the story, it felt utterly bleak. A sigh escaped me.

“You’re sighing again. Next thing I know, you’ll be clicking your tongue too.”

I heard my mother chuckling softly from a distance.

Her teasing tone was so obvious that I pretended not to hear her and continued my train of thought.

‘Anyway.’

The important thing was that the Marquis had likely seen the same newspaper about Patrick Bryan’s confirmation as Duke.

Patrick would return to the capital soon, so the Marquis would want to use my mother and me before that happened.

‘In other words, there’s not much time left.’

The closer we got to the capital, the stronger the Marquis’s influence would become.

This meant escaping from the Marquis and his men would become increasingly difficult.

I had to escape with my mother before we were dragged to the capital.

‘The knight who went to report to the capital should return tomorrow.’

When he came back, he would likely share stories about what happened in the capital with his comrades.

I planned to eavesdrop, gather information about the Marquis’s movements, and decide on an escape date.

…Or so I had resolved.

—

The next day.

“The Marquis has ordered that both of you be escorted to the capital. Please prepare to leave.”

‘W-What the hell…?’

I didn’t even have time to prepare.

Shocked, I instinctively tightened my grip on my mother’s skirt.

I glanced out the window and saw nearly ten unfamiliar knights gathered below the tower, along with a carriage in their midst.

‘…They’re serious. They’re really serious.’

Sending this many knights to escort two unarmed women? The Marquis was not someone to underestimate.

At that moment, my mother turned her head slightly to glance at me before looking forward again.

Her voice sounded as though she was gritting her teeth.

“…Why?”

“The Marquis is concerned about the young lady’s declining health…”

“Don’t spout nonsense. I know my father far better than you do.”

“…”

“What’s your real reason? Speak the truth.”

My mother reached behind her to place a protective hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer as she took a step back.

I followed her lead, retreating cautiously.

For a moment, silence hung in the air.

The knight, who had been silently watching us, let out a heavy sigh.

At that moment, whatever warmth remained on his face completely vanished.

“I don’t want to force you to come. Please cooperate.”

“Impudent…”

“You there, escort the lady and the young miss to the carriage. The rest of you, gather any visible belongings.”

“Yes, sir!”

The man must have been their leader, as his orders prompted the other knights to move in perfect unison.

Several knights quickly dispersed throughout the house.

Watching them touch the home my mother and I had built together made something rise in my chest, but I forced it down.

‘If Mom is holding back, I can’t lose my temper.’

The hand my mother placed on my shoulder was trembling with tension.

For me, this situation was humiliating enough. But for my mother, who was a legitimate daughter of the Marquis’s household, it must have been unbearably degrading.

She endured it, likely because she feared I might get hurt if a commotion broke out.

‘So I’ll hold it in too.’

If we resisted recklessly and they decided to knock us unconscious to transport us, escaping would become twice as difficult.

I needed to stay conscious to have any chance of escaping.

“Um…”

As I tried to steady my breathing, the knights approached us hesitantly, their expressions conflicted.

They seemed reluctant to carry out their orders, likely because they were aware that we were of higher status than them.

Eventually, my mother let out a deep sigh. Pulling me even closer, she spoke coldly.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on me or my child. We’ll go on our own.”

After saying this, my mother turned to me.

She smiled faintly, as if to reassure me, and spoke gently.

“Libby. Don’t leave my side, okay?”