White breath spread into the blue air. Luise wrapped a light scarf around Eve’s neck, fastening it snugly. When she patted it neatly into place, checking if the coarse brown scarf was tied well, Eve caught her hand.

“I’m going to learn how to count to a hundred.”

Eve stared straight at Luise as she spoke.

Luise’s hand, still holding the scarf, stilled. She looked into her daughter’s eyes for a moment, then nodded.

“All right. Uncle’s good with numbers—he can count with you, right?”

She forced a gentle smile, pretending not to notice the lingering hurt on her daughter’s face.

Eve still wanted to stay with her mother. Because she knew that, she had to pretend she didn’t.

“Mommy, you have to come back after a hundred nights!”

Eve’s voice wavered, but Luise couldn’t bring herself to lie. She only gave a faint nod.

“Eve, you know Mommy loves you very much, don’t you?”

Instead of answering ‘yes,’ what left her lips felt a little cowardly.

Perhaps Eve sensed that cowardice too. Her lips trembled.

“I don’t know!”

Clinging to Luise until now, Eve suddenly pulled her hand away in anger and ran toward Eclace.

Her little back, retreating, made Luise’s heart feel as if it were melting and burning away like molten iron.

Eclace, looking troubled, comforted Eve as she clutched at his trouser leg.

“Eve, you need to say goodbye to your mother.”

“No. I’m just going!”

Eve tugged at him, urging him toward the carriage.

“Eve.”

Eclace lifted her up so she would face her mother.

But Eve turned her head sharply, refusing to look at Luise.

“Eve, are you really going to leave without saying goodbye to your mother?”

His voice was firm now.

This might be a farewell without promise. It couldn’t end this way—not for Eve, not for Luise. He only hoped Eve would never regret the way she parted with her mother today.

At that, Eve’s lips, tightly sealed until now, began trembling again.

“We’ll see each other after a hundred nights! So I’m not saying goodbye!”

The words burst out, and then so did her tears.

Her little face scrunched up, wrinkled with grief.

Luise barely managed to hold back her own tears.

She finally rushed over to Eve, who was cradled in Eclace’s arms, and gathered her daughter into her own embrace.

“Yes, we’ll meet after a hundred nights, Eve.”

“Not a hundred nights—can’t you come tomorrow?”

Tears streamed down Eve’s face as she pleaded.

Luise swallowed the surge of emotion rising to her throat and gently wiped her daughter’s tear- and snot-streaked cheeks.

“Yes, Mommy will come as soon as she can.”

“Eve loves Mommy…!”

Eve buried her face against Luise’s shoulder and cried.

Luise nodded, patting her daughter’s back.

“Mommy loves Eve most in the whole world.”

“I love Mommy more!”

Upon hearing those tearful words, Luise let out a sound that was part laugh, part sob.

That there was someone who loved her so unconditionally—it was happiness.

“Mommy might love Eve even more.”

She soothed with a bright smile. In the chill of the air, the place where she held her child grew warm. Only after Luise had rocked her for a long while did Eve’s sobs subside. She wiped her daughter’s damp face once more, then met her eyes with a gentle smile.

“Since you love Mommy so much, give me a kiss.”

At her request, Eve, with a face still blotched from crying, planted a kiss on her cheek. But one wasn’t enough. Like a bird pecking at a tree, she went on, leaving damp marks of affection all over her mother’s face.

Luise laughed at the endless devotion.

“It’s true, Eve really does love Mommy so much.”

“Mommy, kiss me too!”

At her daughter’s demand, Luise showered kisses over her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her cheeks, and her lips. At last, some of Eve’s hurt seemed to ease, a faint smile spreading across her face.

Luise carried her to the carriage and lifted her inside herself. The little hands that clung so tightly to her collar slipped away.

“Until we meet again, you must stay healthy, Eve.”

Eve nodded.

“You too, Mommy.”

Luise stroked her daughter’s head as she waved, then quickly stepped back. If she lingered any longer, she feared she would no longer be able to control her heart.

“Lord Eclace.”

Clutching her burning chest, Luise turned to him.

“…Please take good care of Eve.”

She still wasn’t certain entrusting Eve to him was the best choice. But one thing was certain: Eve had to leave this place at once. And the only one who could make that possible was Eclace.

Eve could not be allowed to see the face of punishment, and besides—

“The days have grown very cold.”

Yes, winter had come, with white breath drifting into the air. The kind of winter that reddened cheeks in the biting wind.

Both of them knew what the chill seeping through their collars meant. If the dragon of eternal snow awoke, Faradel would no longer be safe.

Luise prayed that Eve, who had already survived Dietrich’s crisis, would not be placed in danger again.

“Take care of yourself.”

As Eclace removed his gloves and extended his hand, a fleeting smile touched Luise’s chilled cheeks.

The words, spoken out of concern for her life, sounded almost like a trivial jest. And yet his expression was nothing but solemn.

“Truly, I am very grateful.”

She smiled as she lightly took the hand he offered.

Her frozen fingertips warmed within his grasp.

Luise thought, perhaps the very fact that she had been given time to prepare for this farewell was, in itself, a blessing from God.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

Beneath the frozen, ashen sky, a crooked smile escaped. In a secluded corner of the valley, among the beasts’ nests.

Shed stood before a small stone gate that blocked his path, his bloodshot eyes shifting.

“See? I told you it was here…”

The moment instinct hardened into certainty, he muttered like a madman.

Days and nights of ceaseless searching had left his entire body soaked in blood, every nerve trembling with the thrill of discovery. His burning eyes fixed on the stone gate, as though to pierce through it.

Overgrown with decades-old thorns, the gate was bound with heavy chains.

Breaking such chains would have been nothing to him, one who wielded aura. But before those chains, he could not so easily raise his sword.

It was because of the tangled black letters carved upon them.

He did not know much of black magic spells, but having faced them many times, he could tell that those markings were the remnants of an ancient heresy.

“Unchanging, as ever…”

He spat out the metallic taste pooling in his mouth and murmured dryly.

Black magic drew its source from life itself. And what such a spell demanded was obvious.

To open that door, a sacrifice was required. A sacrifice of life, though in what form, he did not yet know.

And so he was afraid.

Not of offering up his own life. He was ready to endure any pain. But what if his life was not enough to unseal that gate? What if even after pouring out all his strength, he still could not break the binding? What if his limits ended here? What if he could not save Luise?

Once more, he lifted his eyes to the ashen sky.

It was after five days had passed since the High Priests were meant to arrive, and the morning light had broken.

If Eclace had managed to buy him the time he wished for, it would have been fortunate. But there was no room left to seek another way.

He wiped the bloodied blade and sheathed it. Then, staring at the veins bulging on the back of his hand, he measured how much life he had left.

After days of scouring the valley without rest, his hands now trembled beyond his will.
He clenched them tight, as if to still the shaking.

‘May my breath not be shorter than your suffering.’

Slowly, he stretched his weakened hand toward the chains sealing the stone gate.

At that instant, the long-starved spell opened its jaws like a great beast and swallowed him whole.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

The wine glass emptied in an instant and was set back upon the table.

Giselle swallowed the burning taste sliding down her throat and gazed out the window with a listless expression.

“It feels even fouler than I thought.”

Red liquid filled her glass again.

Eve and Eclace had left. It had been unavoidable. And yet, after witnessing that tender farewell between mother and child, the feeling lingered as though she herself had become the villain.

After Eve’s carriage departed, Giselle had seen Luise sink to the ground.

The woman called a demon sat trembling on the cold earth for a long while, her small body hunched low. That frail, shivering frame looked powerless. The shoulders struggling to bear the weight of fate seemed ready to break at any moment.

Giselle had stared for a long time at the woman left alone beyond the window.

The demon was over there—yet she herself felt cast in the role of the villain.

“Honestly, I’ve done more than enough.”

Shaking off the bitter image, Giselle dragged a rough hand over her face.

Luise and Eve ought to be grateful to her for a lifetime; she had bent over backward for their sake. So there was no reason to feel this wretched…

“Yes, you truly have done more than enough.”

A calm voice broke in.

Giselle frowned and turned her head. Luise was walking into the room. The woman who had been weeping alone in broad daylight was now standing composed and serene with an expression of calm determination. It could not have been easy for her to pull herself together in such a short time.

She was someone who knew how to wear an iron mask. How many times had she tempered it to forge one so unyielding?

For a fleeting moment, the contents of Dietrich’s research journal flashed through her mind. The mere thought of those words made her stomach churn, and she quickly forced it away.

Just then, Luise’s gaze fell to the wine before her.

“…May I have a glass as well?”

A prisoner, and yet brazen enough to covet the High Priestess’s wine.

When Giselle gave no reply, only staring, Luise spoke again.

“I find myself craving a drink tonight.”

At the composed reply, Giselle let out a small laugh and, with a flick of her chin, gestured for her to sit opposite.