Chapter 1.11

Sara had been secretly bringing her supplies with each meal.  

However, today, instead of the pouch of emergency funds Lucia had requested, there was a letter and a fountain pen hidden under the plate.  

Lucia looked at Sara with confusion, but Sara gestured for her to hurry up and read it.  

The letter, written in a messy scrawl, read:  

‘To Lucia Bianchi,  

I have learned that you are soon to marry the beastly Ezio Siabon.  

Since the day of your engagement, you have been absent from the bookstore.  

It is no coincidence, I presume?  

I suspect this is not a marriage you desire.  

If that is the case, I will help you break off this marriage.  

Indicate on the back of this letter when I should send the knights.  

The Sun of this Nation, Emperor Aristide Savio Segreo.’  

After a moment of contemplation, Lucia began writing her reply on the back of the letter.  

‘To the respected Sun of this Nation, Emperor Aristide,  

As you have guessed, this is not a marriage of my choosing.  

I am deeply grateful for your generous offer, but I can resolve this myself, Your Majesty.  

There is no need to send knights.  

I politely decline your assistance, Your Majesty.  

Your eternal servant, Lucia Chiara Bianchi.’  

Sara took Lucia’s reply and left.  

Lucia resumed her work.  

But mere minutes later, Sara returned with another letter.  

‘To Lucia Bianchi,  

I now realize that sending knights might be too overwhelming.  

How about assassins instead?  

The Sun of this Nation, Emperor Aristide Savio Segreo.’  

Lucia ran to the window, just in case.  

Across the street, a man in a black cloak waved enthusiastically at her.  

Lucia rummaged through her bag.  

Inside were several of her inventions, clothes, and valuables that Sara had been smuggling in with each meal.  

The bag was heavy thanks to her diligence.  

Lucia pulled out two metal cups.  

Each cup had a hole in the bottom, and a long string connected the two cups.  

She lowered one of the cups down the window.  

Then, she signaled Aristide to hold the cup to his ear.  

When Aristide saw the cup descending, he clapped his hands and crossed the street.  

Once he held the cup to his ear, Lucia spoke into hers.  

“It’s good to see you again, Your Majesty.”  

Aristide jumped as though electrocuted, dropping the cup before scrambling to pick it up again.  

He shouted into the cup.  

“Are you a witch? How does your voice sound like it’s right next to me?”  

“It’s not magic; it’s science. And you can speak quietly—I’ll still hear you.”  

“Enzo, look at this!”  

Aristide held the cup to Enzo’s ear, but when Enzo showed no reaction, Aristide returned to speaking into the cup.  

“Why are you rejecting my offer to help you escape? Do you enjoy being locked up? Is it your preference?”  

“No, Your Majesty. I’m preparing. I plan to leave tonight.”  

“Do you need anything? A carriage? Money? Even if you don’t come to Moonlight Palace, I’d like to help.” 

“I’ve already prepared everything.”  

“Well, that’s just like you, Miss Bianchi! Then I suppose I should cancel the assassins!”  

“Please do.”  

“Alright. I hope your escape is magnificent!”  

Aristide waved grandly and left.  

***

Lucia tugged at the rope she had made from torn blankets with both hands.  

‘Hmm. Very sturdy.’  

Finally, tonight, she would leave this place.  

There wasn’t even a shred of hesitation about leaving the house where she had lived all her life.  

Instead, she only felt regret for not having left sooner.  

Step, step.  

Just then, footsteps ascending the stairs echoed.  

Lucia quickly hid the rope made from blankets, just as her mother entered the room.  

The two stared at each other silently.  

Marisa spoke first.  

“Is it that you don’t even greet me anymore?”  

Lucia didn’t reply.  

Marisa, unfazed, handed her a medicine bottle. Lucia stood at a distance, her gaze filled with suspicion.  

“What is this?”  

“Pregnancy aid. It wasn’t easy to find, so make sure you drink all of it.”  

Lucia let out a hollow laugh. Marisa continued, undeterred by her reaction.  

“You should be grateful I’m taking care of your health, Lucia. Besides, isn’t this the least you can do for Earl Siabon? They say people with a temperament like yours have difficulty conceiving. You wouldn’t want to break your promise to the Earl, would you?”  

“If someone’s personality is ‘bad,’ they can’t get pregnant? Even someone illustrious like you, Mother, believe such superstitions. You must’ve lost all sense in your excitement to sell your daughter to a beast.”  

Marisa smiled, then approached Lucia and raised her hand.  

Lucia flinched and stepped back. She tripped over the bed and fell onto the hard mattress with a thud.  

But Marisa merely placed her hand gently on Lucia’s abdomen.  

“By this time next year, the Earl’s child will be here.”  

Lucia’s face turned red in an instant.  

How could a person who calls herself a mother carefully choose words that would utterly destroy her daughter, and say them with such joy?  

She didn’t expect protection. She didn’t expect understanding—such thoughts were indulgent.  

But she never imagined her suffering would be so gleefully observed and even compounded.  

While others might exploit her for their own gain, family should never do such a thing.  

Until now, Lucia had held onto a faint hope that, perhaps, they still considered her their daughter. She had endured with such thoughts.  

But today, she realized the truth.  

To them, she was nothing more than an item to be sold at a good price.  

And in the moment she recognized this, something inside her broke. The shards clawed at her heart, and the pain brought tears to her eyes.  

Marisa, having seen this, kissed Lucia’s forehead and left the room.  

***

After that day, Lucia became docile. She spent her days reading etiquette books or embroidering in her room.  

At first, her parents were suspicious and tightened security. But as the wedding approached next week and no changes occurred, they finally believed Lucia had given up.  

It was important to break the spirit of a wild horse early. If they had done so when she was young, everyone would have been spared so much trouble.  

Marisa, Cedro, and Ferris were resting in the drawing room.  

It was peaceful.  

At least until smoke began to seep through the cracks in the door.  

“Doesn’t it smell like something’s burning?”  

Marisa asked, just as someone outside screamed.  

“Fire!”  

The three rushed to the door.  

But it was locked.  

Even as Cedro struggled with the doorknob, smoke continued to pour through the gaps and began filling the drawing room.  

It became hard to breathe. Whether it was due to fear or the smoke, it was impossible to tell.  

Shoving Cedro aside, Ferris threw himself against the door with all his might.  

After several attempts, Ferris collapsed to the floor, clutching his shoulder.  

The door, slightly dislodged from Ferris’s impact, was finally broken down by Cedro, who kicked it repeatedly until his knee nearly gave out.  

Without hesitation, the three fled.  

The hallway was already engulfed in thick black smoke.  

Screams echoed from every direction. Flames seemed to flicker from one side of the mansion.  

Ferris began sobbing uncontrollably.  

Cedro pushed his wife and son behind him and sprinted toward the front door.  

The three escaped the mansion, drenched in sweat and tears.  

The townsfolk and the servants who had already evacuated stood outside, watching the scene unfold.  

***

For weeks, Lucia had been pretending to embroider and read, while secretly crafting smoke bombs.  

She had connected the fireplaces with a passageway so that when a single smoke bomb was detonated, the smoke would spread throughout the mansion.  

When her parents and brother were drinking tea in the drawing room, Sara locked the drawing room door from the outside, and Lucia detonated the smoke bomb in the fireplace.  

Black smoke rapidly filled the entire house.  

The servants, following Sara’s instructions, calmly evacuated first.  

However, Lucia’s parents and brother, trapped in the locked drawing room, screamed and wailed in terror, imagining the house consumed by flames.  

When they finally broke free and escaped the drawing room, they looked like madmen.  

Lucia gazed out the window. Sara, who had evacuated outside, signaled with two flashes of a mirror that everyone was safe.  

Lucia picked up her travel bag. She cleared away the flashing lights she had installed in the hallway.  

She returned to her bedroom—the room she had used since birth.  

She ran her hands over the furniture, packed a few items she wanted to keep, and took one last look around the room before leaving without hesitation.  

Descending to the first floor, she headed to her father’s study. She quickly found the documents she wanted and packed them.  

Lucia went room by room, opening every wardrobe to confirm no one was left inside.  

She paused in the hallway to stare at the enormous family portrait.  

Her parents and brother were smiling brightly, but young Lucia’s face was filled with pain.  

She had been beaten in places where the bruises wouldn’t show, just the day before the portrait was painted.  

Lucia spoke to her younger self.  

“I’m sorry. It took me so long.”  

She pulled out the string hidden behind the frame.  

Striking a match, she lit the string.  

Then she exited through the back door…  

And left forever.  

***

Lucia’s family, the servants, and the townsfolk all stood outside, waiting for the firefighters to arrive, staring at the Bianchi mansion.  

By now, the fire should have been visible from outside, but for a long time, only smoke billowed out.  

They had assumed the smoke engulfing the house meant there was a massive fire inside…  

“Could the fire have gone out on its own?”  

Ferris asked.  

Boom!  

Bang!  

At that moment, cannon-like sounds erupted as the entire house ignited.  

Flames rapidly climbed the mansion walls and covered the roof in a brilliant crimson.  

The raging fire was clearly visible through the windows.  

The suffocating heat forced the onlookers to step back.  

Lucia’s family stared, dazed, at their home, now a blazing inferno.