She could not claim she had never once wondered about her real parents. But that they should appear now—on the very day her foster parents were imprisoned—felt like a cruel coincidence, too perfect to be true.

“…Was it the two of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“The ones who had my parents locked away.”

“Locked away?”

The woman who had been holding her recoiled as though she had been struck, her face contorting with sorrow.

“We rescued you, my dear. We pulled you away from criminals.”

The smooth touch of a silk glove brushed against Leni’s cheek. She had never experienced anything like it before. The delicate fabric prickled her skin.

“How you’ve grown. It feels like only yesterday I held you to my br*ast, still warm from birth—and now you stand before me, so tall…”

Her words, whispered through trembling lips, carried a sweetness that lingered in the air—yet they could not stir Leni’s heart.

Were these people truly her parents?

Her mother’s hands had always been thick, each finger knotted and calloused. Never had she known a hand so fine, so pale, as the one reaching toward her now. Even she, once praised as the fairest girl in her town, bore skin rougher than this woman’s.

Those coarse, work-worn hands were what Leni knew best—hands shaped by endless labor, hardened by life. The elegant touch of this stranger felt alien, as if it belonged to another world entirely.

Caught between hesitation and fear, Leni bit hard into her lip.

Whether these two were her true parents or not—it hardly mattered. What mattered was that they seemed to hold the power to free her parents from the underground prison. And that was what she needed, more desperately than anything.

“If you truly are my parents… then I have only one request.”

“A request?”

“My parents… please, prove their innocence. The parents who raised me—they are not guilty of anything.”

Stumbling over her words, Leni clawed through her mind for the right phrase, forcing it out with every ounce of strength she had.

The village school had never offered more than the most basic lessons, and she had not been born into a family wealthy enough to grant her the luxury of study.

She had never cared much for books, and as for the law—she was as ignorant as any country girl could be. But now, with her parents’ very lives hanging upon her words, she had no choice but to speak.

Sweat slid down between her clenched fingers.

“They didn’t kidnap me. They said… they found me abandoned under a bridge, and took me in to raise me.”

“Is that what they told you?”

The deep voice echoed through the room, bearing down on her like a weight.

It belonged to the man who had been standing behind her all along, remaining silent until that moment. From the way he spoke and filled the space with his presence, she thought he must be her real father.

He held his head high and looked down at her with a sharp air of authority.

“So they told you that you were abandoned?”

The voice had a commanding quality that her father had never possessed. It reminded her of the whispered jokes she had once shared with friends about how nobles carried an aura that ordinary people could never hope to match.

Overcome, Leni found herself nodding before she realized.

The man exhaled sharply, as if in irritation.

“Oh, my child.”

The woman stepped in again, pulling Leni into her arms. Her perfume, far stronger than any floral scent Leni had known, clouded her head.

“Those people must have brainwashed you all these years, twisting you for their own gain.”

“Brainwashed…?”

“The man you call ‘father’ was once our gardener. When he learned his wife was barren, he grew desperate for a child. And on the day you were born, he stole you away.”

‘Father… stole me?’

“…We hadn’t even had the chance to give you your name.”

“You cannot imagine how hard we searched for you. But that man hid himself so carefully, vanished without a word to even his relatives. It made finding you nearly impossible.”

Her faith—unyielding until now—began to waver. It felt as though it might crumble entirely beneath the weight of these words.
The voices of her so-called true parents shook her to the core.

Had her parents lied? Or was this some twisted version of the truth? Which was she meant to believe?

Then the woman’s bare hand cupped Leni’s cheek. The silk glove had hidden it, but her touch was as warm and soft as expected. Smooth skin brushed across her face without even raising a flush.

“My poor child. How much you must have suffered…”

“I… I don’t…”

“From now on, you won’t have to worry anymore. There won’t be any more hard labor or going hungry.”

The woman said gently, her voice promising a life of comfort.

Yet despite her tender words, Leni could not find peace.

The irony was unbearable. The people accused of stealing her and burdening her with years of hardship had, in truth, given her nothing but love and devotion.

Although she had never had much in life, the nights spent huddled together on a narrow bed, three bodies sharing warmth, had brought her undeniable happiness. That small, humble home was her entire world.

“…Perhaps what you’re saying is true. Perhaps my parents did kidnap a child… and I was merely caught up in that crime as its victim.”

“So, my dear… you finally recognize us?”

The woman’s face brightened, but Leni slowly shook her head.

“But the reason I grew up safe and well is also because of them. Please, for that, show them mercy. Even if they stole me from my true parents, they raised me with care. I’m healthy because of them. And now, though late, I’ve met you. So I beg you—spare them.”

In the next instant, both their faces twisted strangely.

“You are overlooking something very important.”

The man, who had kept silent until now, finally looked down at her.

“Overlooking? What do you mean…?”

“Survival—food, shelter—those are important, yes. But to live as a person, education is just as vital.”

“Education…”

Suddenly, she could hear her father, Kurdy, urging her on and telling her that if she wanted a different life, she would have to study hard.

“Those people deprived you of every privilege you should have had. And for that, I burn with fury. I am consumed by rage over what my daughter was denied.”

Leni’s expression went blank. At least in this moment, the man before her did not seem to be lying.

“You’ve turned eighteen this year, have you not?”

The mention of her birthday startled her. Without thinking, she nodded.

“Hm.”

The man withdrew a pocket watch from his coat.

“It will be a tight schedule, but… yes. We can introduce you into society next month.”

“My dear…”

The woman murmured.

“It is not too late. You still have time to learn the proper refinement required to live as a person.”

“Come with us, will you?”

The woman added, clutching Leni’s hand with a desperate grip.

“But… my parents…”

“Do not call those who raised you ‘parents.’ Your true parents are standing right before you.”

Leni’s lips parted. A strange defiance stirred within her, but she only shook her head firmly.

“…They do not have the strength to endure the cold prison floor for long. At the very least, they need warmth—blankets, food.”

“Hmm. If you insist so fervently, we may consider it.”

“Truly? You mean it?”

“But in return, you must come home with us. Those people aren’t your parents — we are.”

For a heartbeat, she faltered.

Had she been hoping, deep down, to return home and wake the next morning as though none of this had ever happened?

Her gaze rose to the man and woman before her. Though she knew they were her true parents, she could not bring herself to call them by that name. Yet if she refused their hands, how could she be certain her mother and father—the ones who had raised her—would live?

There was no choice.

“…I will go.”

“Then prepare at once.”

The man called for a carriage while the woman, smoothing her attire, rose lightly to her feet. By then, her silk gloves were already back on.

“At least brush the dust from your clothes.”

She said coolly, dabbing away the trace of moisture at the corner of her eye. When Leni gave a nod, the woman turned sharply aside.

The carriage arrived sooner than expected.

Leni could not help but think, almost with bitter humor, that she had ridden in a carriage perhaps once or twice in her entire life—yet now, twice in a single day. Her hand brushed the curved metal handle, and for a moment she lingered in that thought.

Inside, the silence was suffocating. No questions, no words to bridge the years torn between them. Only the weight of their eyes—impassive, measuring—as they swept over her from head to toe.

“We’ve arrived.”

At the man’s voice, Leni lifted her head quickly and turned to the window.

Beneath a sky heavy with clouds, a grand mansion loomed.

Perhaps because not all its windows were lit, it looked eerie, almost oppressive—so large it seemed ready to crush her beneath its shadow.

“This will be your home now.”

The man said, his lips curling into a chilling smile.

“Welcome, my daughter.”