She couldn’t even bring herself to be horrified.

From Loui’s cheeks and neck down to his collarbone and stomach, there wasn’t a single unscarred spot.

If Loui’s attack had not worsened, Isabelle would have demanded to know the culprit right away.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to…”

“Loui, I’m not Mario. Look closely. Didn’t you give me sable cookies earlier?”

Calming the child was the first priority.

Louis was shaking violently, almost foaming at the mouth. Only when Isabelle gently brought his hand to his face did the spasms subside.

“You’re not… not him?”

“No, I’m not, I’m neither Mario nor Saint-Mang. Look – my hair isn’t as dark as theirs.”

Loui lifted his swollen eyes and scanned Isabelle’s hair and face. Despite his impaired vision, the child somehow realized that she had come especially for him.

Then he collapsed into her arms, and Isabelle held him as if her embrace would break him.

“L-Lady Isabelle, I-Isabelle, Madame, hic, sob, Madame!”

“It’s all right, it’s all right. I’m not going anywhere, so cry all you want.”

The little body shook violently. Isabelle, who had to feel every tremor, was in just as much pain. Like an orphan clutching a parent’s mementos, she was busy caressing Loui.

Every time her hand touched him, Louis flinched. There were so many hidden wounds that no matter where she tried to soothe him, it caused pain.

Isabelle knew this, but her hands didn’t stop. The child’s whole being longed for her touch.

“I-I was with Sister Marie room, and I slept well, and the blanket was warm, but as soon as the light went out… waaaah!”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay? Your lips are all chapped, aren’t they?”

“T-There’s no time, no time… That man will come, he’ll come back, and again, again, he’ll… he’ll take me again!”

Loui burst into tears again, crying loudly.

She doubted that comforting would help, so Isabelle continued to stroke Louis’s hair as she had before. What had once been straw had truly become straw – a common characteristic of children living on the brink of starvation.

Her heart felt like it was being torn to shreds.

She didn’t know how long she had been comforting the child when someone carefully pushed open the half-closed door and stepped inside. Their steps were cautious, so Isabelle turned without suspicion.

“I tried to bring brioche¹, but they said they only made enough for breakfast. So I brought bâtard² instead.”

“Anything will do. Thank you, Marie.”

Isabelle remembered the request she had made to Marie. basement would not have been fed, she had asked Marie to bring plenty of bread before confronting Agnes. As always, Marie had not forgotten her instructions.

With one hand supporting Loui’s back, Isabelle used the other to tear the bread Marie had brought into small pieces. She brought them to the child’s lips, but he refused to eat.

Even when she tried to gently push the bread into his mouth, Loui coughed dryly and spat it out.

“Eat, Loui. It’s okay – it’s from my own kitchen.”

Despite Isabelle’s pleas, Loui took another bite of bread, but his severe nausea prevented him from swallowing.

Isabelle’s brow furrowed.

He needed to eat to survive, but she could not make him do it.

Handing the rest of the bread back to Marie, Isabelle carefully turned Loui over and patted him gently on the back.

Still, Louis coughed relentlessly for quite a while. It would have been a relief if he had vomited, but since he had not eaten for so long, he simply had nothing to bring up.

The situation was devastating. The persistent cough that wouldn’t go away almost felt like it was her own.

“That’s enough, it’s okay now. Stand up when you’re ready.”

It was heartbreaking – Loui’s persistent cough felt like it was Isabelle’s own.

“That’s enough now. That’s enough. Just try to get up.”

“I’m sorry, Hic, I’m sorry… You gave me such precious bread and I couldn’t, couldn’t eat it…”

“I will never blame you for anything, no matter what the circumstances. So stop saying you’re sorry.

Louis couldn’t bring himself to nod. He still seemed to think it was all his fault. Isabelle realized that he wasn’t ready to hear assurances that it wasn’t his fault, so she decided to move on.

“It was Mario who did this to you. That has to be the case.”

“…”

“I’m sorry, Loui. No matter what happened that day, I should never have left you alone.”

Isabelle pulled the child she had hugged countless times back into her arms. Whether it was because he didn’t think Isabelle could be trusted or because he himself wasn’t worthy, Loui shook his head weakly and with great effort.

If Arnaud were to see Loui like this…

Perhaps it would be fortunate if he felt only devastation. More likely, he wouldn’t even take the time to examine the child before rushing out to attack Mario.

Realizing that it wasn’t the time to dwell on such thoughts, Isabelle turned her gaze to Marie. Marie, as always, instinctively leaned forward.

Sure that Marie must have been thinking the same thing, Isabelle lowered her voice as she spoke.

“They let you through without a problem?”

“Everyone knows I serve Lady Isabelle. They told me you had gone downstairs, so I came here.”

An introduction was necessary.

Isabelle nodded and turned her eyes back to Loui. Meanwhile, Marie placed another lantern beside them, then took off her own headscarf and tied it around the child’s neck.

The scarf soon turned red, probably because the wounds had not yet healed.

She instinctively bit her lip, and blood seeped into the hand covering the wound.

Her instincts told her that Loui wouldn’t survive if they didn’t move him immediately.

But the thought that someone might burst in at any moment kept her glancing back and forth between Loui and the door.

“Madame Saint-Mang left Ouretique early this morning. I checked and there’s an empty carriage waiting.”

“Where did she go this time?”

“She mentioned a visit to Baron Saint-Mang. That’s what I heard.”

That meant Camille hadn’t gone to Baron Saintmont.

Drawing Marie closer, Isabelle lowered her voice before bringing up the main issue.

“Do you think Ahmet’s group can arrive today?”

“Since the Flower Mountain border is nearby, if they go through there, they should arrive by evening.

The Ramune Trade Guild is stationed in Chamfera.”

“There will be room for a child. You may use my name if necessary, but Loui must be sent to Ahmet.”

“Do you think Lotur will just watch?”

Isabelle hesitated. If she were to answer honestly, it would be, “No.”

As mentioned before, Agnes held Camille in high esteem, and she wouldn’t have the courage to disobey orders twice. Isabelle was sure of that.

“Never.”

“Then what do we…”

“We change the target.”

Isabelle turned around again.

Thanks to Marie’s meticulousness, the door was completely closed without the slightest gap. But there was no doubt that Jean was on the other side. She could feel his presence.

“Marie, I’m entrusting Loui to you. See if he has any broken bones. He seems to have a fever, so wrap him in a cloth.”

“Yes, Lady Isabelle.”

Marie took Loui in her arms and Isabelle opened the door without even brushing off her skirt.

As expected, Jean was there. His fingernails were worn down to serrated edges, a clear sign of his anxiety.

“You.”

“Have you seen all you need to see? Then please leave immediately…”

As expected, Jean tried to lead her out. In his urgency, he seemed to have completely forgotten that Marie was still inside.

Throwing propriety aside, Jean grabbed Isabelle’s wrist, an act unbecoming of a man handling a woman. In response, Isabelle pulled her wrist sharply out of his grasp.

“I said get out now!”

“That’s your concern, not mine.”

Jean was a man Isabelle could corner on her own terms. There was no need to hesitate.

Compared to most of the men in Châteaubienne, Jean was slightly smaller in stature. But standing before him, Isabelle carried herself with the same commanding presence as the men of Châteaubienne themselves.

There was no difference. She stood on tiptoe, towering over Jean, who looked up at her with dilated pupils.

“You have quite a habit with your hands, don’t you?”

“What do you mean…”

“You’ve sold quite a bit, haven’t you? Picking out things that wouldn’t be missed for at least five days even if they were stolen.”

Jean’s lips tightened, his expression completely unguarded.

His demeanor immediately revealed why he had been assigned to Agnes’ quarters. Isabelle clicked her tongue once before continuing.

“The merchant guild doesn’t only deal in authentic goods, does it? It’s clear that they also deal in fakes that are similar, or better said, almost identical to the ones you wanted to sell.”

“…”

“All of Saint-Mang’s mirrors and ceramics are genuine, making them far more valuable than mere imitations. With a simple exchange, one could easily make about ten crowns. I’m well aware of that.”

Jean was already sweating profusely. Beads of sweat ran down his modestly chiseled jaw. Isabelle grabbed him without hesitation and pulled him toward her.

“Just follow my lead. The boy doesn’t really know anything.”

“Do you know something…? Madame, I’m not quite sure I understand your intentions…”

“Let’s just say that some of your colleagues saw someone fainting, opened the door a bit too early, and found him already dead.”

“What should I do, madam? What exactly are your instructions?”

“If someone comes to your door, be it a foreigner or a heretic, don’t ask any questions. Just open the door. Then fill a sack with rotting person and burn it.”

“What is in the sack? How do I explain it?”

“Just say that you burned a troublesome person without holding a funeral. Don’t forget that part.