“Happy birthday!”

Leni lurched forward at the sudden shout of celebration, nearly crashing onto the table. Rubbing her stinging back, she looked at the person who had caused it.

“What was that for? My birthday’s tomorrow!”

“You’ll be gone first thing in the morning, won’t you?”

Bena, with her hair the color of a sun-warmed orange tied loosely over one shoulder, grinned broadly.

“You said you finally got the ticket to Ouk!”

Ouk. It was a port city where great steamships came and went across the wide sea. It was the place that Leni had longed to see.

In her inland home, the only water to be found was the small river that flowed by the mill.

“The sea,” a traveler had once said when he passed through their town, “is wider than ten rivers combined. Endless, with no shore in sight.”

Leni remembered him well. His clothes had been ragged, his appearance rough, but his sharp eyes had captivated many of the villagers. She had been among them.

Like a living news-sheet, he brought endless stories. Lands where not a single blade of grass grew, mountains buried under eternal ice, and at last—an ocean, stretching without end, of water too salty to drink.

“That water, sadly, you can’t drink. It’s unbearably salty.”

Salty water? Did someone pour sackfuls of salt into it? And why would anyone waste something so precious?

Though the stranger had only stayed a few days before vanishing, her curiosity never faded. Instead, her imagination had only grown, magnifying the mystery of the horizon beyond.

“You’re going alone, aren’t you?”

“…Yes. The ticket was expensive, and the road itself is long.”

This quaint little town was far too small to justify a railway. In order to reach Ouk, she would first have to travel to the nearest city and catch a train there.

And even then, the train would take an entire day before she arrived.

“True enough. For people like us, that’s a frightening sum.”

The freckles dotting Bena’s nose wrinkled as she frowned.

“But since you’re going, make the most of it. Look all you can—and make sure you taste the water to see if it’s really salty!”

“I wanted to take my parents with me, but…”

“Then you just bring back everything you see and tell them yourself. Don’t worry too much. No one in this town wants to see the sea as badly as you do, anyway.”

“Stop making it sound like I’m some strange person.”

Leni pouted briefly before breaking into a shy smile.

“Still, thank you for celebrating with me.”

Her household was not wealthy. Life was tough, leaving them with no choice but to keep working. Yet despite the hardship, there were moments of happiness. They weren’t perfect days, but they were worthwhile nonetheless.

Above all, she had her precious family and friends by her side.

With a faint smile tugging at her lips, Leni quickened her steps towards home.

“Coming back from work?”

“Papa!”

The familiar voice pulled her out of her reverie. It was strange — he was never usually home at this time of night. Startled, she could not hide her surprise when he stood up, still holding the spanner.

“I fixed your bicycle.”

“What—really?”

Eyes wide, Leni rushed to the bicycle. She gripped the handlebar, pressed down on the pedal, then threw her head back to beam at him.

“Thank you, Papa.”

Her radiant smile drew at last a faint curve to Kurdy’s lips.

“Anyway, it’s probably best not to go in just yet. Your mother has been in the kitchen all morning preparing for your birthday. I told her to take it easy, but you know how she is…”

Though his words were gruff, his tone and gestures revealed his affection for his family.

Glancing at her father, who was now looking through the kitchen window towards her mother, Leni called softly.

“Papa.”

The hush of twilight fell over the greenery, swallowing her voice.

“Papa.”

“Why are you speaking so strangely?”

“Because… I’m not really your daughter, and yet you’ve raised me all this time. Thank you.”

“……”

It was her parents who told her that she was not their real daughter. When she was old enough to understand, they sat her down and explained everything to her.

At first, she was confused. However, the moment she saw the worry in their eyes, her curiosity about her ‘real’ parents disappeared.

After all, Leni already had a family. She had parents who loved her unconditionally and showed her constant affection. To her, they were her true parents — her only family.

“What nonsense. You are my daughter. Never once have I thought otherwise, so don’t you ever say such a thing again.”

“I feel the same.”

Leni reached out, wrapping her arms around Kurdy’s neck.

“You and Mother are my only parents.”

His scent filled her as she held him tight—the smell of iron, horses, and sweat. The smell of the man who had worked tirelessly to protect his household, the same scent she had known for all nineteen years of her life.

“You little thing…”

For a moment, flustered by his grown daughter clinging to him, Kurdy could only pat her back awkwardly. A savory fragrance lingered in the air, tickling their noses. And so that warm day slipped by, and her birthday arrived.

At first light, Leni’s pink eyes snapped open. She leapt from bed, snatched the ribbon from her desk, and tied back her tousled hair.

She pulled her most treasured possession out of the drawer: a third-class train ticket, tucked safely between the pages of her favorite book. Looking at it as though it were the rarest treasure, she carefully put it back in its place.

“…All right.”

Her heart pounded so hard she could almost feel it sweep through her body. She was ready to go at once.

Then, from beyond the door, came a thunderous crash that shook the house.

A heartbeat later, her mother’s cry tore through the air.

“Husband!”

Startled, Leni clutched the doorknob and pulled the door open. What she saw was a sight of violence unlike anything she had ever seen before.

“Leni! Run!”

Her father’s roar filled the air. And in that instant, she realized—the intruders’ eyes were fixed squarely on her.

“If the report is correct, it should be this girl.”

The air was sharp and biting, as though seeking to strangle her.

The intruders moved swiftly. Before she could grasp what was happening, her arms were seized and bound.

“Let me go!”

“Leni!”

She twisted and fought to break free, but her resistance ended almost instantly. Pain shot through her arm, sharp and searing, as if her bones had been wrenched out of place. A cry tore from her lips, her head striking the edge of the table. On the floor, Kurdy’s body bucked violently beneath the men pinning him down.

Only then did Leni finally notice the uniforms her captors wore—harsh, rigid, and identical. On each chest gleamed a single badge.

The insignia of the Imperial Guard. The very mark that declared them enforcers of the Crown.

The realization struck cold into her veins. She could not understand—why would the Guard come here? Why would they shackle her parents, and her as well?

Her father, who had lived his life as nothing more than a farmer, too soft-hearted even to wring a chicken’s neck. Her mother, forever scolding him for his gentleness. They might not have kept up with the world as it changed around them, but they were the kindest souls on all of Tilea Hill.

“M-Mama…”

Her gaze found her mother, straining desperately to reach her.

“…Papa.”

“Leni! Are you all right? Leni!”

The moment their eyes met, her father’s voice thundered out a demand for her safety. His bloodshot glare dared anyone to harm her again.

Why had it come to this?

Today was her birthday. It was supposed to be a day filled with good things.

Shattered plates lay on the ground, and a thin line of blood trailed from her father’s cut cheek.

‘Is this is a dream.’

The words whispered at her ear, as if spoken by someone unseen. A nightmare—for such horror could not exist in any other way. Yet no matter how tightly she shut her eyes, nothing changed.

Her parents, forced behind iron bars, were shoved into a heavy cage on wheels. But Leni was the exception. She was not cast into the suffocating wagon where her parents were confined, but into another carriage. This one, though hard and unyielding, had seats. It even had a window. That, at least, was a small mercy.

Turning her face toward it, Leni’s eyes widened.

Familiar faces looked back at her through the glass: Aunt Mone, Old Harter, and Mr Laila. She found herself counting them one by one, almost without realizing it. And then—

A flash of orange hair.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

“…! …ni! Leni!”

“Bena!”

Why Bena—who should have been at the station to see her off—was here did not matter. Lenia pressed against the carriage window, her body leaning desperately toward it.

Had she run all this way? The distance from the station was far, yet Bena’s breath came in ragged gasps, her hand striking frantically against the glass. But before her voice could reach Leni, the carriage lurched forward.

“Wait—please, wait! Stop the carriage!”

She begged the guard beside her, though she knew he would never listen.

“Just for a moment. Only enough time to hear a single word from my friend. I won’t do anything else.”

However desperate her plea, it did nothing to stop the wheels from turning.

“Leni! Leni…!”

Bena’s anguished cry rang out, and Leni pressed her palm against the window. Only a pale handprint remained on the cold surface of the glass.

······ ✦ ✧ ✦ ······

The carriage finally stopped outside the headquarters of the Guard.

It was only when she was led down into the underground cells that Leni saw her parents again.

There they were, in a prison where not a shred of sunlight could reach.

“Mama! Papa!”

“Leni!”

Through the stinking iron bars, both of them reached for her in frantic desperation—their hands fumbling over her face, her arms, anywhere they could reach. The sheer urgency of their touch sent a rush of relief flooding through her chest.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No. I’m fine. I’m all right…”

“You must not approach further.”

The man who had been watching them with an expressionless face now extended an arm, barring her path.

“Please release my parents. They would never commit any crime.”

“If you believe there has been an error in the Guard’s process, you may begin by writing a statement here.”

He thr*st a document towards her.

With trembling hands, she was guided into a small, barren room. It seemed rarely used — only an abandoned desk and chair stood in the middle of the room.

She picked up the pen lying on the desk. The tip was heavy with ink and left a dark blot the moment it touched the paper.

What was she supposed to write? Her parents had done nothing wrong.

Silently, she began to scrawl the only truth she knew: that her parents were innocent. But as the words spread across the page, tears fell, smearing the ink and creating uneven blotches.

No matter how hard she tried, she could not make sense of it. No — perhaps she could not even accept it. Everything felt like a dream: unreal and distorted. A day that should have been perfect was unravelling into ruin.

Sniffling, she dragged her sleeve across her eyes, rubbing until they burned. With her reddened gaze fixed on the page, she forced herself to write, letter by letter.

Then, the sound of a latch turning echoed through the room.

“Ah… yes! Yes…!”

Leni’s head snapped up. In the doorway, a woman stood weeping uncontrollably.

And before Leni could react, the woman rushed forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“W-wait, what is this…?”

“Do you recognize me? Hm? Do you know who I am—do you remember me?”

“Madam, why are you doing this to me…?”

“Heavens above!”

Her bewildered protest only seemed to hurt the woman further. Her slender hands trembled as she clutched Leni’s shoulders.

“You were the child raised as Kurdy’s daughter, were you not?”

“You… you know my father?”

In that instant, both the woman and the man who had been following her faltered. Disappointment flickered across their faces.

“My dear… we are your true parents.”

The words struck her like a blow. Leni’s eyes widened in disbelief.