Duke Lemaire was dead.

And thanks to him, every last coin of his staggering debt had fallen to his daughter, Evelyn.

***

Evelyn stared at the rain-soaked lid of the coffin. The laborers lowered the sodden wooden box deep into the grave, and soon her father was buried completely beneath the coarse earth.

After gazing at the grave for a while, Evelyn took a few coins from her bag and gave them to the laborers.

“Thank you for your work.”

They snatched the coins without hesitation. Any respect they might have shown the dead had long since vanished with the clink of money.

“……”

Then Evelyn’s expression soured. The men had spent the past several minutes counting the coins.

“……I think you’ve counted them enough. Has the price gone up in the meantime?”

“Well, this will do.”

With awkward coughs, the laborers promptly turned and walked away into the rain. Only after their footsteps had faded completely did Evelyn approach the grave.

“Thanks to you, Father, I’m having all sorts of interesting experiences.”

She ground her foot into the wet mound of earth as she spoke.

“Oh, did you know? I was going to have you buried without a funeral, but the temple wouldn’t allow it. I suppose I would have felt uneasy about it myself, of course.”

Her voice suddenly dropped.

“How could they bury someone who wasn’t just any criminal, but a man accused of treason?”

She clenched her fists and glared at the ground.

The urge to tear open the grave right then and there overwhelmed her. She wanted to haul him out by the collar and scream into his peaceful face until her chest burst.

Yet Evelyn did not move a muscle. What would be the point of giving those coins to the labourers if she dug up his grave now?

“If there’s another life, let’s be sure to meet again, Father. Next time, I’ll destroy your life myself.”

Her final farewell fell with the rain.

Brushing back her wet hair, Evelyn swiftly turned away.

Her father had brought everything to an end, but she had put an end to nothing.

The bitter reality slowly began to sink in, cutting her to the bone.

***

On her way back to the estate, Evelyn came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the village. The lining of the shoe that had been digging into her heel was hanging in tatters.

“……These were my last pair.”

She pulled the brim of her hat down low, opened her bag and tipped the coins from one corner into her palm.

Fifteen sel in all.

The journey from near the Lemaire estate to the cemetery on the outskirts of the village had cost one sel. Surely the return trip would cost the same?

After making this quick calculation, Evelyn headed for the carriage stop. Three or four people were already huddled there, sheltering from the rain.

Then, through the downpour, she heard the rumble of large wheels. The public carriage had arrived.

The driver, wrapped in a thick coat, opened the door and called out.

“We’re still running, but the rain’s pushed the fare up a little. Two sel each to town!”

At the unexpected announcement, the waiting passengers began rummaging through their pockets with disgruntled mutters. As the driver watched them, his gaze landed on Evelyn.

“You there, miss. Are you getting in?”

“Well, I……”

She could not bring herself to answer. If she spent two sel here, she would have only thirteen left.

‘How much longer can I get by on that? There wasn’t much rye bread left at the estate.’

‘No, before that, shouldn’t I get these damned shoes repaired? They’re tearing my heels apart.’

‘It would be better to spend those two sel on repairs……’

“Hey! If you’re not getting in, move!”

A sharp shout rang out, and Evelyn pitched forward helplessly.

The man standing behind her had shoved her shoulder.

“Ah……!”

With a short cry, the hat she had pulled so firmly over her head fell into the filthy water.

“Hey, are you all right?”

The startled driver hurriedly reached out a hand.

“What’s that man’s hurry? Here, miss. Are you hurt anywh—”

Evelyn instinctively took his rough hand. At that moment, the driver’s fussing expression began to stiffen strangely.

“Miss, could you be……?”

Suspicion crept into his voice. His brow furrowed, his gaze settling on Evelyn’s red hair.

“I-I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

She hastily ducked her head. Then, shielding her face as best she could with her mud-stained palm, she wrenched her hand from his grasp.

“I’ll take the carriage another time. I-I’m sorry for the trouble.”

With that, Evelyn turned and hurried away.

Her heart pounded.

‘Did he recognize me? Surely he isn’t related to one of the knights who died because of Father’s embezzlement?’

“Hey! Miss!”

The driver’s shout cut through that terrifying thought. Afraid he might catch her, she quickened her pace.

***

How long had she been running for?

Evelyn finally stopped, her lungs burning with every breath. Thankfully, there was no one in sight and, as if by some miracle, the rain had eased off.

A cold wind swept past her. As her skirt fluttered, she caught sight of her swollen ankle, the skin stretched taut over it.

Yet she felt no pain. It must have gone numb.

Perhaps that was a blessing. She still had to climb the hill to the Lemaire estate, and the numbness would make the journey easier.

She forced herself onwards, a shuddering groan escaping through her clenched teeth.

In the wake of the rain, a bitter chill had settled over everything.

Swallowing hard, she wrapped her arms around herself. The cold seemed to seep into her very thoughts, leaving her with only one desire: to get home.

The servants had left, so she would have to light the fire herself, but at least the stone walls would shelter her from the wind. Once she had stopped shivering, she could enjoy a warm bath.

Then she could lie down in bed.

Perhaps tomorrow would be kinder…

“……As if that were possible.”

Her faint voice faded into the cold. There wasn’t a pot left to boil water in, let alone any firewood.

It was all because of the man she had called Father, who had been laid to rest that very day.

Bastian Lemaire had been charged with embezzlement. He had cut off supplies to the knights sent to war in his place, using the money to stockpile military goods instead.

His reasoning had been simple. In the hell of war, iron was worth more than human lives.

And so he had waited.

He waited for the battlefield’s iron reserves to run dry, for prices to soar, and for his hoarded supplies to make him a fortune.

But his ambition was never fulfilled.

Less than a year after he cut off their supplies, the knights he had abandoned returned victorious.

“……Is that why Damian left, too?”

Evelyn gave a short, bitter laugh. She thought she could at least partly understand how her older brother had felt when he disappeared without trace straight after the war.

Damian had worked more closely with their father than anyone else. There was no way he could have been unaware of his ruthless greed and sordidness.

“……You could have at least taken me with you.”

Although her father had escaped death, Damian had fled, leaving her to face the consequences alone. With the eldest son gone, Evelyn was left to shoulder all the family’s debts.

She quickened her pace, her thoughts turning to another source of despair.

At least her father’s death had laid the suspicion of treason to rest. Further inquiries might follow, but the accusation would no longer hang over the family. After all, the trial had only been intended to establish whether treason had been committed.

Clinging to that pitiful comfort, Evelyn reached the top of the hill.

Her brow tightened at the sight of the estate’s gates.

Already half torn from their hinges, they now stood at an even more unnatural angle than usual.

It was as though someone had forced their way in.

“……No.”

Her heart lurched painfully against her ribs. Had the creditors come while she was out? Or had vagrants found their way here after hearing the rumors?

Either possibility filled her with dread.

Ignoring the pain in her ankle from the climb, Evelyn broke into a run, her shoes churning through the mud.

The garden leading to the manor seemed unchanged, but her unease refused to lift.

Then she reached the entrance.

An imposing silhouette loomed before her, seeming somehow out of place.

At the sound of her limping footsteps, he slowly turned to face her.

“Hello, my lady.”

A whisper, sweet as the devil’s, slipped into her ear. Evelyn’s lips moved before she could stop them.

“……Killian?”

When she asked her question, the corners of his mouth curled up into an elegant smile. Then his face emerged from the shadows that had partially obscured it.

He was a huge, muscular man. His red eyes were so piercing that they bordered on relentless.

There was no denying it: It was Killian Wallenstein.

The knight her father had abandoned had returned.