He had fooled everyone all this time, and yet here he was – turning pale as he told just one more lie. The sight struck Isabelle as downright pathetic. She bit back a hollow laugh and fixed him with her eyes, silently urging him to speak.

Jean, on the other hand, couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze. Part of it was the difference in height, but more than that – it was the weight of his own guilt pressing down on him.

“I went so far as to dig you an escape route, and all you can give me in return is silence.”

As expected, there was no response.

Jean’s tongue and teeth moved nervously over his lips again and again, as if searching for courage in the movement. Then, with a deep breath, he finally forced himself to look into her eyes.

Isabelle didn’t flinch. Whether he looked away or stared back, her gaze remained cold, unwavering.

“I… I’ll see if there’s a spare bag somewhere.”

“You should do that.”

Jean was never the cruel type.

If it had been Camille-or the King and Queen-they wouldn’t have hesitated. They would have grabbed him by the collar without a second thought.

But this one? This servant?

He could be brought to his knees with nothing more than the ice in her eyes.

Suddenly, Isabelle became aware of something chilling – the way she had just used her threats… it wasn’t so different from the way the king and queen did it.

It horrified her.

But it was the truth.

Whatever the circumstances, she had been the one to destroy Jean.

‘She had participated in a crime. You don’t have to feel guilty, Elisabeth.’

Even in her frustration, that single thought offered her a shred of absolution.

At least she hadn’t stood by and watched the already frail child wither away in the basement.

Yes, maybe Jean hadn’t had a choice.

But that didn’t absolve him.

Isabelle, who had been trying to make sense of it all with that cold logic, turned her eyes to Marie – who had just come back through the door.

“Lady Isabelle, I did as you asked. Just in case, I wrapped the batar and put it in Loui’s coat.”

“Thank you.”

“Mr. Ahmet and his party should have crossed the Kaltenberg border by now. The guards there are notoriously lazy. They will arrive on time, so please don’t worry.”

Isabelle replied with a simple nod.

They had to get out of the stairwell immediately, but Isabelle couldn’t bring herself to move, her mind was still preoccupied with Loui.

Marie noticed this and gave her a shove on the back, urging her on.

“He’ll be fine.”

“I wonder if I should take him with me now, Marie.”

“It is true that Madame Saint-Mang has left Hérétiques, but Murier is still in the residence. I don’t think I can hide the child well enough to avoid her notice.”

Isabelle felt the same.

With no other choice, she stepped onto the stairs, and Marie supported her as they made their way up to the ground floor.

The stench of rotting fruit stung their noses.

Even after they stepped onto the top landing, the stench lingered.

Unfortunately, Isabelle would continue to blame herself for this moment.

She would beat her chest and say she should have taken the child, even if it meant burying Murier herself.

***

The lantern dangling from her fingertips swayed slightly.

Wearing a dark brown cloak pulled over her head, Isabelle stepped out into the hallway as soon as she heard that Murier had gone into the main building.

Murier seemed to be sleeping there.

Though she came from a rather unremarkable family of scholars, she must have been raised with a certain amount of refinement – so Isabelle couldn’t understand why she would choose to sleep in such a ruin.

But now wasn’t the time to judge Murrier’s sensibilities.

Getting Loui out safely was far more important – twice as important.

Isabelle slipped quietly through the door and crossed the garden.

Marie followed her.

“Have you seen Jean?”

“Yes. He somehow managed to find a sack. One of the others is apparently stacking firewood in the backyard of their quarters.”

“Is it what little conscience he has left, or is there another motive? What do you think, Marie?”

“He’s probably afraid of what’s coming. Like you said, he could just claim Loui is dead and be done with it – but the stolen goods have already been sold and can’t be recovered.”

Even on reflection, Jean’s decision had been a rational one.

It wasn’t as if he could grovel before Daniel – who commanded a massive merchant guild like Ramune – and confess, “I actually stole the goods and sold them!”

Either way, he’d lose his head.

Isabelle had never seen Camille’s quarters, but she was sure they were just as extravagant as Louise’s.

After all, Camille had casually placed goods from the East in her room, as if doing someone a favor.

“Ramune won’t just sit back and watch.”

“Neither will Mr. Ahmet.”

This time it was finally in her hands.

When Marie smiled, obviously pleased with the way things were going, Isabelle responded with a faint, leaking smile of her own.

By now, they had reached a place where they no longer had to keep their footsteps quiet – in front of Agnès’ quarters.

Though her status was high enough to warrant a few guards at her side, neither Hérétiques nor Antmaren were places where such privileges really applied.

There wasn’t even a single guard posted.

There had been one in front of Isabelle’s quarters, but thanks to Marie’s bribery of the children who were supposed to be on guard today, they made it through without being stopped.

“Ah, over there…”

Isabelle found Jean with little trouble.

He was also holding a lantern, just like her.

Over his opposite shoulder were two sacks – one thick, the other thin.

Isabelle immediately ran toward Jean.

She wanted to run, but her thigh was still throbbing from Mario’s kick.

With their lanterns in hand, the three recognized each other immediately.

Jean also approached Isabelle and bowed his head.

But Isabelle was not interested in courtesies like Jean’s.

“Loui, are you in there?”

The only thing Isabelle cared about was Loui, who was probably in one of the sacks.

She carefully took hold of the thicker one and asked – and after a short pause, a small voice answered.

“Yes…”

“You must remain completely still. If anything hurts, the person you’ll meet will take care of you. So just hold on a little longer, okay?”

“Yes… hic… yes…”

The child answered in a choked voice.

The raw grief in it came through clearly and made her throat tighten again.

Isabelle gently stroked the sack – whether it was the boy’s head or his feet, she couldn’t tell – once, twice.

Then, with a completely different expression than before, she looked at Jean.

“Sorry for the delay. Go now.”

“Shall I take the east gate?”

Isabelle gave a single nod, then gestured with her eyes as if to tell him to go ahead.

As she had intended, Jean immediately began to hurry ahead of her.

The east gate, another exit, was close to Agnès’ quarters.

Thanks to this, Isabelle and her group could reach Ahmet without much difficulty.

Through a square gate, nestled between overgrown bushes along the stone wall, they could see him – Ahmet was sitting there, leaning against it.

“Ahmet.”

“Oh, Eli – I mean, Lady Isabel.”

“That’s fine for now. Call me at your convenience.”

Ahmet stood up immediately and brushed off his clothes.

Unlike before, he was now wrapped in a black blanket from head to toe.

“As you asked, everyone in the group is wearing dark clothes. Here – I also brought the light root, both the stems and the leaves.”

“Thank you, Ahmet. I won’t forget this kindness.”

“That’s what I should say.”

It seemed that he had taken her request to come discreetly to heart.

The light root in his hand was proof.

Isabelle took the bundle of stems and leaves wrapped in cloth, and with her other hand – as a gesture of gratitude – she reached out, pulled him by the neck, and hugged him.

“Uh, uh…”

“That much is okay, isn’t it?”

Ahmet froze.

His hand seemed to rise hesitantly to her back, but in the end he couldn’t bring himself to return the hug.

Isabelle just leaned in closer, as if to say it was all right.

“You are not only my savior – you are also Arnaud’s savior. There’s no one here to get in the way, so don’t worry and just hug me back. That’s how I say thank you, Ahmet.”

At these words, Ahmet’s expression gradually softened.

The hand that had been hesitating finally came to rest on her back.

In the warmth of his embrace, Isabelle couldn’t stop sniffling softly.

“I’m relieved. I was afraid someone might see us… but I’m really glad.”

“I’ve always appreciated your thoughtfulness. You’ve always been like that, Ahmet.”

Scratching his neck sheepishly, Ahmet seemed to remember that she had said that everyone had left and began to introduce his own companions.

“Ah, let me introduce the others. This is Mustafa and this is Kenan.”

Isabelle had just enough time to be introduced and smile as she reached out to shake their hands.

Behind him were two mules and a supply wagon, as well as three chestnut horses ridden by several members of his party.

The workers were all leaning against the supply wagon, either chewing on something or smoking.

Only two of them, who seemed to be in higher positions, came over to greet her.

“Merhaba, madam.”

“I told you not to speak in Partayan! What if someone hears you?”

“Ah, ah-sorry.”

The rest of the group greeted her in turn, but none of them spoke with the fluency of Ahmet.

One of them even greeted her in Partayan.

It was a boy named Kenan.

Ahmet was startled by Kenan’s choice of language, but Isabelle paid no attention and replied in Partayan herself.

“Merhaba, Kenan.”

Kenan, Ahmet and even Mustafa, who had been standing at a distance, widened their eyes.

Kenan, now excited, began to babble in Partayan.

“How did you understand me? You don’t look like you’re from Partaya!”

“I’m from Imanoria. I learned Partayan once.”

“Oh, oh! That explains it! It’s so nice to meet you, really!”

His excitement lifted her own spirits.

Even Ahmet’s hasty scolding of Kenan seemed endearing at that moment.

“Are you crazy? What if someone hears you?”

“But I’m happy to meet her!”

“That’s just you! How can you act like that in front of someone so important?”

Isabelle reached out and took Ahmet’s arm, as if to say it was all right.

She didn’t forget to add a few reassuring words to help him relax.

“It’s okay. No one here would understand anyway.”

“Still, milady…”

“But… when you speak to the child, use Châteaubienne.

He probably doesn’t even know what Partaye is.”

“Child?”

Ahmet cut himself off in mid-sentence.

Understandably, he looked surprised.

Instead of answering, Isabelle nodded at Jean.

Then Jean let Loui down from his shoulder and unpacked the bag.

“Th… thank you. Thank you, sir.”

“You should thank the lady. I’ll take my leave now.”

As soon as Jean, who had been supporting him, stepped away, the boy staggered as if he might collapse at any moment.

Fortunately, Isabelle was close enough to catch him, saving his clothes from getting dirtier.

Loui, held in her arms, was warm.

Children always seemed to carry a slight fever, but the fresh wounds on his body made her all the more sensitive to the warmth.

Isabelle untied Marie’s shawl that had been wrapped around her neck and then draped her own engagente over it.

“Milady… this child is…”

Ahmet finally managed to speak.

He had been in a state of shock for some time, but his focus on Loui had prevented him from fully realizing what was happening.

As if steeling herself, Isabelle bit down hard on her lip, then handed the child directly to Ahmet.

Caught off guard, he instinctively took Loui in his arms, his eyes widening even more as he looked back and forth between the boy and Isabelle.

But Isabelle had no strength left to calm him.

Instead, she held out a necklace – one that had belonged to her mother, buried deep in a drawer of strong liquor – and begged him for just one thing.

“This child is my last request. Please… take him with you, Ahmet.”

“Please? What do you mean, please?”

“I’ll even kneel if I have to. I can’t protect him here. So please… take him with you, Ahmet.”