Shed guided Gardwell, sensing that Luise was even tenser than Eve.

The moment the horse began to move, the heavy sway of its gait rippled through her body.

Caught off guard, she gripped the reins tightly as they climbed the ridges of Recherdam.

Shed’s arms brushed past her waist as he held the reins. It felt as though she were enclosed between two solid walls of muscle. The firm body pressing against her back moved in time with her own, in rhythm with the horse’s stride.

Gardwell took the same route he had taken with Eve, crossing the plains. In the silence, Ideana’s scent swept past. The autumn breeze, bountiful yet brisk, carried the faint scent of him and wrapped around her.

‘If I were to tell you that Eve is your child…’

Her lips trembled against his warmth.

Would it be right?

How could he possibly accept an illegitimate child that he had never wanted? He was already consumed by self-reproach. If it were also revealed that he had a illegitimate child with a maid, the reputation of House Lester would be ruined. The weight of it swirled around in her head.

All she wanted was a little more happiness for Eve. For that alone, her lips would not part. So she swallowed the truth, casting her gaze far into the distance.

Just then, Gardwell slowed his pace.

“Luise.”

A low, detached yet simmering voice brushed her ear. Afraid of his intentions, she tightened her grip on the leather reins.

“…They said every experiment in Ideana was for your sake.”

No sooner had he spoken than he felt her body shudder. She was afraid, even at the mere mention of it.

What she bore was not just guilt or fear of punishment. It was a terror that ran through her very core, something far deeper.

The wheat fields whispered coldly in the breeze.

He waited for her to steady her breathing before speaking again.

“That experiment… was it what you wanted?”

At his question, Luise’s heart plummeted.

But Shed needed to ask.

For the first time in over ten years, doubt had emerged. On that day at Lake Anteros, when she fell into the water, she seemed utterly terrified, as though she knew nothing at all.

You must have suffered, unable to breathe beneath the water.
You must have felt it seeping into your lungs.
And so… you must have sunk into the depths of death itself.

After speaking with Eve, he replayed that day over and over again in his mind. No matter how he examined it, he could see that everything had been contrived. It was like an experiment orchestrated to observe her death.

“Does that matter?”

Her thin voice trembled, dodging the question. At that, Gardwell came to a sudden halt.

“It matters to me.”

He took Luise’s pale, clenched hands in his and guided them to the reins. He remembered when the young girl used to cough up blood, convulse and collapse, and tremble through sleepless nights filled with nightmares.

He remembered the child who was confined to the house by illness, yearning for a world she could never see, weeping each day as she cursed her fragile body.

For that reason, he needed her answer.

When he asked her, Luise felt as though she had swallowed a lump of cotton, her throat tightening as she did so. She wanted to tell him that it had never been her choice. Her lips parted and closed repeatedly, but in the end, no sound came out. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish gasping for air, but remained silent.

It was as though a curse had sealed her voice. No — it was the weight of guilt tightening around her throat. Even if she told the truth, her sins would not disappear.

Claiming that she had been nothing but a victim would be a pathetic excuse, a justification that she would use only to ease her conscience. And what about Shed, who had lost his brother because of her power…

Then Shed gripped her trembling hand more tightly.

“I killed Pamen.”

The familiar name spilled from his lips, and Luise turned to him. The shadow of his hair fell across his face, leaving it darkened, obscured.

Pamen—yes, she remembered.

The brother Shed had once spoken of.

Since childhood, he had been his companion, his comrade, his mentor, his brother. The one who had guided the boy through merciless battlefields, ensuring his survival. The one whose presence had shaped so much of his early life.

She had often wondered about him, that brother whose name Shed had mentioned so many times.

And yet—Shed himself had killed him?

“My brother was an heretic.”

Luise thought of the last test subject left in Faradel.

‘Ah. That heretic, too, had possessed eyes of violet, like Shed’s.’

Realization struck too late, and her head fell heavily forward.

‘Ah, I have sinned against you once more. I made you hunt down your own brother with your own hands. I drove another nail into your heart.’

Her chest ached as though a blade had torn straight through it.

“I’ve wanted to ask you, all this time. If you knew about him.”

Shed’s gaze drifted toward the distance as he spoke.

“And yet, when I returned from the hunt, you were gone.”

The quiet reproach in his words made Luise bite down hard on her lip.

So that was it.

That was why he had searched for her.

“…Did you know about Pamen?”

At last, Shed asked the question.

Luise swallowed a raw, stinging breath and shook her head.

To be honest, she wanted nothing more than to tell him everything she knew about Pamen. But she knew nothing.

Only Felix Ideana knew what experiments her father had conducted on Pamen, why he had become the way he was, and how he had survived until then.

Her ignorance gnawed at her. She could not offer him a single answer to the question that would leave her with a lifelong scar. Her helplessness made her loathe herself. If she was already steeped in sin, she wished she could at least have known everything.

But all she had were her selfish regenerative abilities and the curse of black magic.

“…I’m sorry. Truly.”

Her voice shook, damp with unshed tears. She could say nothing else. She had no words that could wash away her guilt—or even begin to soothe his wounds.

Her eyes welled until she squeezed them shut, holding the tears back. And then, Shed’s burning warmth closed around her.

For a moment, she could hardly breathe.

“…That’s enough.”

His voice was low and quiet, as though all emotion had been scattered on the wind.

There was no resentment or hatred in him. This alone made Luise’s lips tremble and tears slipped free and fell. Nothing had been resolved, yet his single murmur made it feel as if everything were all right after all.

Shed felt the warmth of her tears falling onto his arm.

Luise Ideana was in his embrace.

He had searched for her for more than three years for this question.

He still did not know if Pamen had continued to live as a heretic. But the fact that Luise knew nothing about the experiment seemed to be enough.

Luise had not known about Pamen’s trial either.

‘Did you choose this power for yourself?’

Shed closed his eyes slowly.

If she had ever wanted the power of a heretic, she never would have lived this way.
She would not have fled through forests, hunted by hounds.
She would not have endured life as a servant, scorned and mocked, humiliated in the House of Godwin.
She would not have trembled before the High Priest, hiding her strength in fear, nor shed tears beneath the weight of her shame.

There was still so much he did not know.

Luise had not revealed everything. She was still keeping a lot of secrets from him. He longed to discover them. He wanted to ask more questions.

But in the end, he remained silent. He had already heard enough. He had heard the one answer he truly needed.

Now, he only wished to let the past fade away. He wanted to leave it untouched and allow it to heal. Ideana was finding its way back to prosperity and peace. And she had returned.

He allowed himself to fully embrace Luise in his arms. The warmth of her body and the quiet rhythm of her breathing in his ear were enough to dispel the thorn bushes knotted tightly around his chest.

Luise clasped the arm holding her as though she would never let go. Her tears would not stop, yet she was not sad.

All she wanted was to preserve this moment in time exactly as it was. She wanted to freeze it in time, with all its pain and joy, and embrace this brief pause before life’s suffering.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

When Shed and Luise returned, they found Eve happily playing with the steward in the meadow and catching grasshoppers.

Spotting her mother dismounting with Shed, the child ran towards them at once, stuffing the grasshoppers into a glass jar as she went.

“Mommy! Wasn’t riding fun?”

Her eyes sparkled like stars, hoping her mother had enjoyed it as much as she had.

“Yes, it was fun.”

Luise smiled and nodded, her heart warmed by her daughter’s sweetness. She worried her eyes might still be red—but Eve seemed not to notice, and that was enough.

“Look, Mommy, look at this!”

Eve thr*st out her tiny hand, a small fist wriggling. She unfurled her fingers, and between thumb and forefinger a pale-green stalk of foxtail grass squirmed upward like a crawling caterpillar.

“Wow, Eve! How did you figure that out? It really looks like a caterpillar!”

“Horse uncle taught me.”

Eve pointed to the steward, who scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

Eve was so dearly, so tenderly loved.

And then—

From afar came the urgent sound of hoofbeats.

Up the hill rode Sir Hedric. He reined in sharply before Shed, dismounted, and bowed low with hurried words.

“Your Grace, High Priest Dietrich is on his way.”

“The High Priest?”

Shed’s gaze flicked instantly toward Luise.