The weather that day was atrocious.

“The weather just won’t cooperate.”

The fact that Delphius, who rarely voiced his displeasure, had expressed such a complaint spoke volumes.

He had just finished work and stepped outside, only to find himself delayed in a place like this. Pulling his pocket watch out of his coat, he checked the time, his irritation plain to see on his face. He found himself glancing at it every five minutes, each tick of the minute hand making him more impatient.

What had gone wrong?

Had the client drawn out the meeting longer than usual?

Or was it the client who had suddenly raised objections to a contract that had already been agreed?

After battling relentless wind and rain that soaked his shoes with every step, he had barely made it, only for the train to be delayed too.

Click.

Once again, he opened his pocket watch, his expression tightening with frustration. With every sweep of the long hand, his chances of leaving for Ouk with Ilenia diminished.

If he missed it, he could simply take the next train. He had plenty of money and wasn’t in a hurry — he had cleared his entire schedule for the day.

But, he couldn’t shake the image of that small figure standing by the window, waiting endlessly for him.

That was what unsettled him most.

Although summer was approaching, there was still a chill in the air. She always insisted that she was strong, but her frail body told a different story — she caught colds easily.

He had to get there. As soon as possible.

Delphius turned his head sharply — his agitation was unmistakable. He had already sent word to hurry things along more than five times.

Despite knowing that no meaningful response would come in such terrible weather, he couldn’t stop pressing them.

After all, the duke’s displeasure carried weight in a place like this.

Bang!

A sudden, thunderous crash shook the ground beneath them. The platform trembled, and those who had been complaining about the delay cried out in alarm and crouched down.

“What was that?!”

“What was that sound?!”

The already chaotic platform erupted into even greater commotion. Amid the overlapping voices of worry and confusion, the source of the noise soon revealed itself.

“Over there!”

A dark shape slowly emerged from where the man had been pointing.

The rain was falling so heavily that everything was blurred, but the black mass of metal was unmistakable: it was a train.

But it wasn’t moving.

On closer inspection, it became clear that it wasn’t even on the tracks.

Only then did the realization spread.

The train had derailed in the middle of the torrential downpour.

A ripple of murmurs swept across the platform, growing louder as it reached the far end.

Fortunately, the accident had not turned into a full-blown disaster.

The train had already begun to slow down as it approached the station, sparing it from more serious damage. As it rounded a curve, only the rear wheels slipped off the tracks.

A few passenger cars connected to the cargo section were thrown into disarray, but thankfully there were no fatalities.

Station workers soon rushed in to guide passengers off the train and onto the platform.

Those who had been on board wore expressions of frustration and exhaustion. Their journey had been cut short, and worse still, they hadn’t even reached their destination.

Those who had yet to board, and those who still had miles to go, with their numbers nearly doubled, the platform quickly descended into chaos.

“All train operations for today have been suspended!”

Finally, the announcement came: the trains would no longer be running.

The recent derailment had already raised concerns, and it seemed that a final decision had been made.

But that was only the station’s perspective.

This did little to quell the anger of those who had been waiting.

As their voices grew louder and more aggressive, the station staff began to falter under the pressure. After huddling together in hurried whispers, they soon came forward with another response.

“We will resume operations once the rain lets up!”

Although it sounded more hopeful, it actually meant the same thing.

At this rate, it was becoming uncertain whether he would reach the region where Ilenia was.

Delphius crumpled the train ticket to Ouk in his hand and turned his head away.

He couldn’t stay here indefinitely.

Just as he was about to turn and search for another way—

“Please, I beg you. Help me get back on the train.”

“I’m sorry, but due to the worsening weather, train operations for today are no longer possible.”

“Please… my daughter is waiting for me.”

“The train has already derailed—it can’t move. Sir, if you continue like this, you’re putting us in a very difficult position.”

It seemed someone was clinging to a staff member, refusing to let go despite the repeated refusals.

No matter the circumstances, the decision had already been made.

And how much authority could these low-ranking staff possibly have?

Still, those gripping their sleeves pleaded desperately.

“All trains heading to the capital have been suspended for today. Either return tomorrow or find another way.”

“What are we supposed to do…?”

“We can’t just sit here. Let’s go outside and try to find a carriage.”

“But in this weather… who would—”

The man swallowed the rest of his words.

To begin with, there wasn’t a single carriage waiting at the station. Even if they searched now, there was no telling whether anyone would take in two soaked, disheveled travelers.

“And we barely have any money left. You said it felt improper to bring too much, so you hardly brought anything…”

There was nothing unusual about it — just another conversation that could be overheard in the middle of a storm.

They were just two of the many people gathered on the platform.

There were others in far worse situations.

And yet, why couldn’t Delphius bring himself to walk away?

He found himself staring at them.

There was something strangely familiar about them.

“Leni… my daughter, Leni. How much pain must she be in after losing the child? My poor girl must be suffering so much right now… her heart must be rotting away.”

“Leni.”

The name rang sharply in Delphius’s ears.

His head snapped up.

Only then did he realize what had caused that strange, unsettling sense of déjà vu.

He knew them.

With long, purposeful strides, he approached and stopped right in front of them.

As his shadow fell over the pair, Kurdy slowly turned his head and all the color drained from his face.

His wife followed his gaze and turned deathly pale, too.

It was as if they had seen something they should never have witnessed. Their faces turned ashen, their bodies trembling as they lowered their heads.

There was no need to ask who it was.

That reaction alone told him everything.

“You swore you would never show your faces again, didn’t you?”

Neither of them could bring themselves to speak.

The first promise he had extracted from Ilenia and the Kurdy couple hung heavily in the air.

“Never meet again.”

They nodded, solemnly promising to honor that commitment.

Even Ilenia, who had once longed for her parents’ embrace, accepted it without protest.

She endured it quietly and with unwavering strength.

And yet, her parents were the first to break it.

Delphius clicked his tongue, looking down at them with thinly veiled disdain.

He had been sending them more than enough money each month, enough for them to live comfortably among the upper middle classes.

And yet, the clothes they wore were shockingly worn and threadbare.

At that moment, the woman bent forward and bowed deeply before him.

“I know how shameless this must seem. And I know that even standing before you like this is only possible because of Your Grace’s boundless generosity.”

“….”

“So please—I’m begging you. Our child… my daughter, Leni. Just once… please let me see her.”

Her voice trembled faintly.

This woman—she must have been the adoptive mother who had raised Ilenia since she was an infant.

There was a raw, desperate longing in her voice.

“Ever since I heard the news that she had lost her child, I haven’t been able to sleep. I know better than anyone how devastating it is to lose a child, which is why it hurts so much. I hear nothing but rumors every day, yet as her mother, I can’t even offer her any comfort. What kind of mother could be more heartless than that?”

There was no need to pick apart every word.

It was obvious who Ilenia had taken after.

Delphius swallowed a hollow breath.

The stark difference between her and this woman affected him more deeply than he had expected.

“So please… just once, I’ll see her and leave. After that, I will never come near again. I only want to see with my own eyes that the rumors I hear every day are not true.”

“There’s no need for concern. I will take care of everything.”

“I know. I know Your Grace will handle it well… and yet, I can’t help but feel anxious…”

Lady Kurdy’s hands trembled, unsure of what to do.

Her fingertips fidgeted restlessly—nails darkened with layers of dirt, rubbing them again and again against the fabric of her skirt.

Delphius let out a slow, weary sigh.

“I understand what the two of you are worried about. But if you show yourselves, it will only cause Ilenia more confusion.”

“…Would we only become an obstacle in that child’s path?”

“….”

Delphius remained silent.

Seeing that, the man beside her stepped forward.

“I understand. We sincerely apologize for causing you unnecessary concern. From now on, we will strictly uphold the terms of the agreement.”

“I would appreciate that. We would also prefer not to see any more needless rumors regarding Ilenia appear in the papers.”

“….”

Kurdy pressed his lips together tightly.

Then, placing a firm hand on his wife’s shoulder, he tried to steady her.

“No. We should leave.”

“But we have to see her. Leni—she must be suffering so much. You know that, don’t you

Kurdy shook his head.

“We’ve done enough. If we go now, we’ll only bring her more confusion.”

“Ah…!”

Unable to contain her grief any longer, Lady Kurdy collapsed to the ground and broke into sobs.

The noise of the crowded platform drowned out her cries, rising and falling until they were almost lost in the surrounding chaos.

Delphius drew in a controlled breath.

He could have simply walked past them.

But these were the people Ilenia cherished more than her own family.

He could not bear the thought of her being hurt again.

He lifted his gaze briefly to the flickering lights above, then let out a long, heavy sigh.

“…For now, let’s move somewhere else.”