"Olive."
Olive, who had been standing silently to the side, stepped forward.
"My lady—the House of Duke Vines possesses the largest lands and fortune in the empire. The late Countess inherited a substantial fortune long ago, and now that inheritance passes to the four of you."
Daya stared at him in astonishment.
*Mother never spoke of this.*
It was true that her mother had never been extravagant—but she had never wanted for anything, either.
With growing confusion, Daya turned her gaze to the Duke.
"If you don't want our fortune... then why do you wish to become our guardian?"
Gerald said nothing. He turned his head back toward the window.
Olive sighed, glanced at him, and spoke on his behalf.
*"Why are you never honest..."*
"We have not yet identified who commissioned all of this. The Duke does not know what dangers may still threaten his nephew and nieces. That is why His Grace wishes to serve as your guardian."
"Ah..."
The color drained from Daya's face. The words caught in her throat.
She hadn't considered it. *Of course* things didn't end with Killon's death.
Her fingers trembled. She clasped her hands tightly together to still them.
"Then... for how long?"
"Until the danger is eliminated."
After a long silence, the Duke spoke—his voice decisive, final.
His cold tone inspired more trust than all of Killon's honeyed words ever had.
"I understand." Daya nodded slowly. "Then please remain until we find Perido, and—"
At that moment, a well-fed crow launched itself into the air outside the window. It beat its heavy wings and landed somewhere in the distance.
"Is there something like a spire here?"
The Duke's question cut her off abruptly.
His eyes remained closed, yet Daya felt the weight of his attention pressing down on her.
"There are no spires," she answered quickly.
"Olive. Come here."
Olive crossed to the window, leaned out, and scanned the grounds below.
"I see no spire, Your Grace."
"Any high point where a bird could perch and rest. Something *like* a spire."
Daya's brow furrowed as she thought. "If that's the case... behind the small forest at the edge of the estate, there's an old church bell tower—"
"Go there immediately."
"Yes, Your Grace." Olive moved swiftly to the door and turned to Daya. "My lady—please show me the way."
"Yes."
She didn't understand why the Duke would abandon such an important conversation to rush toward a crumbling bell tower—but the urgency in his bearing made her hurry forward without question.
Gerald followed them, and in the silence of his thoughts, a bitter realization took hold.
*Why didn't I think of this before?*
---
## — The Letters —
> *Baby, how are you? Don't be angry that I called you "baby" again—to me, you will always be my baby!*
>
> *Here, unlike in the West, it's always warm. Not a single monster—peace and quiet. If only one had jumped out on the road, I could have shown off my fencing skills.*
>
> *I came here relying on my husband, and already a year has flown by. The other day, while walking alone, I found a place that reminded me of where you live. Seeing it made me miss you even more.*
>
> *And do you know what I did?*
>
> *I went there myself, without servants. I cleaned it and arranged everything with my own hands.*
>
> *Then I filled that space with the toys you used to love. Perhaps you don't need such things anymore.*
>
> *But now I have a place where I can miss you.*
>
> *I miss you, baby.*
---
> *We recently had another child. A son. Black hair—just like yours. Although, to be precise, he looks like me.*
>
> *Daya, Garnet, Rubiena, Perido.*
>
> *Every time a child is born, I swear to myself that I will protect them for as long as I live.*
>
> *You protect the West. I protect my children.*
>
> *I am also a Vines.*
---
> *My children keep asking why you've never come to visit.*
>
> *I tell them: "Vines must defend the West. He has much to do."*
>
> *It's true. But it's not the whole truth, is it?*
>
> *I know.*
>
> *You stay away to protect me.*
>
> *A sister close to the Western Duke—who has so many enemies? She would be the perfect target for blackmail. For exploitation.*
>
> *Vines protects.*
>
> *Thank you for protecting even your distant sister.*
>
> *Baby, I miss you.*
---
> *Can you imagine! Recently, a new guest appeared at the place where I used to play alone.*
>
> *Our youngest secretly followed me there.*
>
> *He loved it so much—you can't even imagine. He scolded me! "How could Mama have fun alone in such a nice place?"*
>
> *It seems he already knows how to lecture his mother. My baby has grown up completely, hasn't he?*
>
> *I hope he grows up to be like you. He's too soft—I worry. He's only brave when he's with Mama.*
>
> *By the way, the ladies gossip about you so much that one can learn all the news of the West simply by attending a tea party.*
>
> *When are you getting married? Oh dear—I really am getting old, aren't I? I've even started nagging you.*
>
> *Baby, when you marry, you must show her to your sister.*
>
> *I will set aside all my worries about political strife—I will come to meet you. Agreed?*
>
> *Our youngest always tries to steal the letters I write to you. Even though he can't read yet.*
>
> *Why do children love secrets so much?*
>
> *We have a secret room now, just the two of us. He's absolutely beaming with happiness.*
>
> *I think it's time for me to pass this place on to our youngest.*
---
## — The Boy in the Closet —
A timid ray of sunlight broke through a crack in the warped wood of the cabinet door.
Small fingers—dirty, coated with grime—reached out to trace the shimmering speck of light, as though stroking it.
*Warmth.*
Black curls stirred slightly, then fell limp again.
Perido lay curled in the closet, his breathing harsh and shallow.
Soon it would be dark again. So dark that nothing would be visible at all.
He thought of the meager snack he had eaten the moment he'd hidden here. He should have rationed it. He should have brought more.
He hadn't eaten in so long. His stomach didn't even rumble anymore.
When he grew hungry or thirsty, he drank the rainwater he had collected during the storms. But even that was nearly gone.
He missed his sisters.
He missed his father.
At the thought of his family, round tears welled in his black eyes. His throat was parched, cracked—but still the tears came.
Perido clamped a hand over his mouth and wept.
Silently. Soundlessly.
*Mama...*
What he missed most was his mother.
---
## — The Cave —
They had hidden from the terrifying men in a dark cave.
The entrance, concealed by thick undergrowth, was a secret place—one he and his mother had discovered together while exploring the forest.
In the pitch darkness, pressed close against his mother's warmth, Perido's trembling gradually stilled.
*Will Papa be alright?*
Mama's shoulder had long been stained red. But she looked... normal. Her voice was steady. Her eyes were calm.
She gently pulled him back and brought her face close to his. Even in the blackness, her dark eyes shone—two beads of light gazing straight into him.
"It smells like rain." Her voice was soft but certain. "As soon as it starts, go straight to the secret room. Fill every cup and bowl with rainwater. Do you understand?"
"Yes..."
His answer came out weak, trembling.
Mama repeated—for the hundredth time—what she had already told him:
"What did Mama just say?"
"When Mama leaves the cave... I count to five hundred." His voice cracked. "Then I go to the secret room by myself."
"Such a clever boy." She stroked his hair. "Can you go alone? You've found your way out of this cave before."
"I *can*, but..." His small hands clutched at her sleeve. "Mama, let's go together. *Please.* Let's go together."
"I'll follow you soon. But not yet." Her voice was impossibly gentle. "Right now, Mama must protect her boy from the bad people. Until you reach the secret room, Mama has to go somewhere else."