“Mom, could you give me my birthday present early?”

It felt awkward to say something like this for the first time, and even I found my tone strange.

Mom’s eyes widened in surprise.

“A birthday present?”

“Yes. I know it’s still a few months away, but…”

“You never ask for anything except books, no matter what you need. What’s gotten into you? Did you find something you want? Should I make you another ribbon?”

She smiled and gestured to the green ribbon in my hair, which she had made for me.

It had a yellow thread tied at the end, making it look like a little bell.

Though I loved it, that wasn’t what I wanted now, so I shook my head.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady my voice.

“Mom.”

“Yes?”

“You know I never make promises I can’t keep, right?”

“Yes, that’s true.”

Mom nodded, joking lightly about how I rarely even gave her kisses because I was too shy.

I felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside. That wasn’t the point.

“Then just this once.”

“…”

“Just this once… could you do as I ask without asking why?”

If I left with Paul without telling her, Mom would undoubtedly be confused.

But even if she didn’t understand, I needed her to endure the separation until I could return to her side safely.

“…”

Mom stayed silent for a moment.

Worried that I was asking too much, I glanced at her nervously.

Then, she smiled softly and gently patted my head.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“…Really?”

My eyes widened in surprise.

After all, I was asking her to follow the instructions of a nine-year-old without question.

But Mom looked completely at ease, her smile full of warmth.

She ran her fingers through my hair and spoke softly.

“This is the first time you’ve ever asked me for something.”

“…”

“There must be a reason. I trust you.”

Her unwavering trust and affection made my chest tighten with emotion.

I clenched my lips to suppress the tears threatening to spill.

“…Thank you, Mom.”

I promise, I’ll save you.

Even if it costs me my life.

—

That night.

When everyone was asleep, and only two knights stood watch…

“Mmph…!”

Thud!

A muffled scream, followed by a dull thud, echoed through the air before silence fell once again.

Only the crackling of the campfire softly filled the void.

‘Clink—’

Not long after, a dark shadow moved stealthily toward the entrance of the massive carriage.

The figure carefully covered the chains with a bundle of cloth and began to work on them. Soon, with a soft ‘click’, the chains were undone.

The shadow—Paul—gently pulled open the carriage door. It swung open soundlessly.

Beyond the door, Laviela sat upright, her eyes wide open. She whispered softly.

“You’re here? What about the other one?”

“I’ve knocked him out temporarily. He’ll wake up before long. If we’re attacked by a pack of beasts, that would be a bigger problem. And the older lady?”

“She’s asleep.”

Laviela glanced behind her as she answered Paul’s question.

On the long bench inside the carriage, Gretel lay wrapped in a blanket, breathing softly in her sleep. Her face was somewhat pale.

“…I suppose it’s fortunate the medicine worked,” Laviela murmured with a sigh.

Gretel’s condition had been deteriorating for days, to the point where even Gilbert had suggested she take some medicine.

Though she had stubbornly insisted that Laviela’s well-being came first, Gretel had finally relented, realizing she could no longer endure. Tonight, during dinner, she had taken the medicine.

Thanks to its effects, Gretel was now sound asleep. She likely wouldn’t wake until morning.

Laviela took a moment to quietly look at her mother’s face, knowing she wouldn’t see it for a while.

After briefly glancing at Gretel’s palm, Laviela turned her head and extended a hand toward Paul.

“Let’s go.”

“Understood.”

Paul slipped his hands under Laviela’s arms and lifted her effortlessly.

He moved toward the area where he had earlier secured a horse, having already subdued the knight who was supposed to stand watch with him.

“Be careful. It’s higher than you think.”

“…I know.”

Having never ridden a horse before, Laviela’s face turned pale as she gripped its mane tightly.

Paul helped her onto the horse first before swiftly mounting behind her.

“We’re leaving. Hold on tight. Hyah!”

With a quick tug of the reins, Paul urged the horse forward.

The horse, carrying the two of them, began to move cautiously through the snow-covered forest.

‘Howl—’

A faint wolf’s howl echoed through the air as they reached the heart of the forest.

—

‘Rustle—’

“Mm…”

It was still the dead of night.

Gretel stirred, curling up against the cold wind seeping through the cracks of the carriage. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Half-asleep, she murmured a name out of habit, her voice soft and sluggish, as though soaked in water.

“Libby…?”

Perhaps the lingering effects of the medicine dulled her senses, but her voice was faint and weak.

She blinked a little wider, glancing at the opposite seat in the carriage where Laviela should have been.

And then, as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head, Gretel’s mind snapped into focus.

Her eyes widened as she bolted upright, gripping the edge of the seat.

“…Libby?”

The child was gone.

‘Thud!’

In her haste to get up, Gretel tumbled off the seat and onto the floor of the carriage. But she didn’t feel the pain.

Frantically, she searched the seat where Laviela should have been, her hands trembling as she clung to the hope that this was all just a dream.

“L-Libby… Libby?”

But all she felt was the faint warmth lingering on the fabric, barely noticeable.

‘Rustle.’

At that moment, Gretel’s hand brushed against a small piece of paper. She froze.

Simultaneously, the sound of commotion erupted outside the carriage. Someone was hurriedly undoing the chains.

‘Bang!’

The carriage door swung open, flooding the interior with light.

Though Gretel hadn’t yet unfolded the note, her instincts told her to clench it tightly in her fist and hide it.

Gilbert stood in the doorway, his face twisted in anger as he spotted Gretel, who sat frozen inside the carriage.

“The child is gone!” he shouted.

“One of the horses is missing too!”

“Damn it, that bastard Paul finally did it…!”

Though it was still night, the torches carried by the knights illuminated the area in a fiery orange glow.

Gilbert turned sharply, barking orders at the knights as he stomped away.

Meanwhile, Gretel, who had been sitting with her back to the carriage door, took advantage of the momentary distraction. Her trembling hands unfolded the note she had hidden.

The familiar handwriting greeted her.

<Mom, I’m taking the birthday present I mentioned now.>

As she read those words, her heart sank.

Her eyes, shaking, moved to the bottom of the letter.

<I’m sorry for leaving without a word. Time was running out, and I couldn’t explain everything in just a note.

So, as I said when I asked for my birthday present, please don’t ask anything and just wait for a little while.

We’ll see each other again soon. I promise I’ll come back to your side. I really will.

So until then…

Live, Mom.>

That was all the note said.

Unconsciously, Gretel’s hand tightened around the paper, crumpling it. Her face twisted with anguish, mirroring the crumpled note in her grasp.

“Libby…”

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, drowning out all other sounds.

Amidst the chaos, a voice from the knights broke through.

“…Chase them!”

“They couldn’t have gone far…!”

Though her mind was in a daze, Gretel registered their words. She quickly hid the note up her sleeve and stood.

Jumping out of the carriage, she shoved aside a knight who was about to mount a horse, grabbing the reins for herself.

“My Lady!”

“What are you doing?!”

The knights immediately grew wary, some even reaching for their swords.

But Gretel clung to the reins as though her life depended on it, refusing to let go.

Taking a step back, she bit her lip in desperation.

“You’re going to search for my child, aren’t you? I’ll go with you.”

“This is absurd—!”

“I didn’t even know she was gone! That Paul could’ve taken her to harm her, and you expect me to sit here and wait?!”

The knights, who had been about to argue, fell silent at the sight of Gretel’s fierce expression, as if she might strangle someone on the spot.

Overwhelmed by her intensity, they hesitated.

Eventually, Gilbert cursed under his breath and stepped forward.

“I’ll escort the lady. The rest of you, chase after them! The snow will erase their tracks soon. Find them before that happens!”

“Understood!”

The knights mounted their horses and quickly set off, following the tracks in the snow.

Gilbert, with Gretel seated behind him, urged his horse forward to follow.

Though it had been a while since she last rode a horse, Gretel gritted her teeth and held on, even as nausea threatened to overwhelm her.

‘It hasn’t been long.’

The warmth left on the seat and the fact that it was still before dawn suggested Laviela hadn’t been gone for long.

‘…Paul. He was the one who spoke ill of Libby before.’

Though the details were unclear, if Laviela had managed to convince Paul to help her escape…

‘Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t come back.’

If Laviela succeeded in escaping, it might be better than both of them being dragged to the Marquis.

After all, Laviela was the Marquis’s true target.

“Libby…”

Gretel clenched her jaw.

Her nine-year-old daughter had accomplished what even she, an adult, had failed to do—escape.

‘She wouldn’t act without a plan.’

If that was the case, the least Gretel could do was avoid interfering with her daughter’s plan.

If necessary…

Gretel glanced at the sword hanging from Gilbert’s waist.

Just then, a voice called out urgently from the front of the group.

“Stop! Stop!”