Javnaia strained his memory. The conversation had been brief, but the girl's image had been deeply imprinted on his soul.
"I dare say she is like a goddess."
"Rachel?" Marik's voice sharpened with interest. "She resembles Rachel... That's why the captain was so drawn to her."
She didn't chide him for his insolence. Instead, she gave an order.
"But first impressions can be deceiving. You treat the captain like a son, Bishop, and I'm concerned about him as well. Shouldn't we, as his guardians, investigate what kind of person Lady Rohanson truly is?"
"I will find out everything."
Marik patted Javnaia on the shoulder with an encouraging firmness, expressing her confidence. Javnaia would do whatever was necessary not to disappoint her.
---
Silence reigned in the dungeon after Marik and Javnaia departed. Only then did Gabriel enter Merai's cell.
An exhausted woman with hollow eyes raised her head at the sound of the door scraping open.
Pale as a ghost, she looked as though she might give up her spirit at any moment. The solitude of this dungeon seemed to weigh heavily on her—she who had once kept children imprisoned here, who had lived among them.
Merai's suffering was the awakening of childhood traumas. Before falling into the old headmistress's favor, she herself had been just another plaything for the demon's amusement—no different from the other children.
"Have you eaten yet?" Gabriel asked.
The question, too mundane for a prison cell, drew a bitter laugh from Merai.
"The food in the Great Temple turned out to be surprisingly meager."
A piece of bread and a bowl of watery stew. She knew it was already too generous for someone condemned to death, but sarcasm escaped her lips anyway.
"At least once, you will be able to eat whatever you desire."
Merai understood his meaning. A final wish before execution. She accepted her fate with eerie calm.
"Death penalty?"
"Yes. At dawn, you will be handed over to the city guard."
She showed little emotion. Knowing her death was imminent, Merai felt, strangely, a sense of peace.
"Lady Rohanson has decided to buy back the children you sold."
"Buy them back?" A hollow laugh escaped her cracked lips. "How is she any better than me?"
"No better. Just... different."
Rumors of Merai and the priest's imprisonment had spread like wildfire. In a short time, Gabriel received a multitude of messages. Some begged him not to report to the royal court; others offered to return both money and children.
Although Evangeline was not thrilled at the prospect of *purchasing* people, she paid without hesitation and took the children in.
Of course, most buyers preferred to pretend nothing had happened. They claimed they hadn't bought the children at all, but had merely *hired* them, paying intermediaries for their services.
Those who had long collaborated with Merai—or whose reputations were already tarnished—remained silent. Their victims were either dead or in such a state that they could never be shown.
When Daisy heard this, she burst into tears.
"Stop crying," Evangeline had said. "Remember what you asked for?"
"Yes. I asked you to find the children."
"Here." Evangeline's voice was sharp, almost cold. "I promised to find them all. In exchange for you."
The words were uncharacteristically harsh. But to Daisy, they were a comfort.
She fell to her knees and thanked Evangeline through her tears, not embarrassed in the slightest by Gabriel's presence.
There was no trace left of the old Daisy—the one who had called Evangeline a demon in horror. Now she was filled with sincere humility. It reminded Gabriel of believers praying before a statue of Rachel.
The only difference was that, unlike Rachel, Evangeline Rohanson could respond to her followers.
A pale hand descended upon Daisy's head. Evangeline, who had never had to console anyone, did so very awkwardly—her fingers stiff, her touch uncertain.
Gabriel couldn't tear his eyes away from her clumsy movements. *Was her hand still as cold as it had been when she first comforted Daisy?*
He pushed the thought aside and focused on Merai.
Evangeline had promised to take all the children. Merai's ledger had made it possible.
"This book helped us a great deal."
And it would also aggravate her punishment. Merai had not committed murder herself, and nobles were rarely punished harshly for purchasing a few orphans from common folk. But thanks to the book—which detailed dates, amounts, transaction locations, methods, and intermediaries—her guilt was irrefutable.
One priest among the buyers, thanks to the book's damning evidence, was not only stripped of his position but also sent to war in another country. It was tantamount to a death sentence.
"Why did you leave this book behind?" Gabriel asked. Something resembling regret flickered in his voice.
"I thought it might prove useful. With a book like that in hand, you can ask favors of anyone."
But the buyers had acted as though they'd never heard of its existence.
"I see."
Gabriel didn't press for more. He had no reason to doubt her. Even if Merai had abandoned the book out of guilt, it wouldn't atone for her sins or overturn her sentence.
"The investigator will question you tomorrow," Gabriel said, finally arriving at the purpose of his visit. "During the interrogation, he will ask you about Lady Rohanson."
He instructed Merai on how to respond. If asked about Evangeline Rohanson, she should say the lady had occasionally visited the shelter for charitable purposes. He also instructed her not to mention Daisy—to minimize any connection to the case.
Merai smiled bitterly. He was not only forcing her to defend the angel who had pushed her into the abyss, but also to lie about receiving help from a noblewoman?
All the aristocrats who had ever visited the orphanage came only to buy children. If someone had truly helped her out of good intentions, she wouldn't have needed to sell them in the first place.
"What, you want me to give false testimony? And from a knight—a bastion of honor and justice?"
Gabriel remained unperturbed by her sarcasm. Contrary to his reputation as a pious and righteous knight, he didn't consider himself infallible. Her caustic words couldn't wound him.
"Do you think I'll obey you?"
"Yes. If you remember what Daisy told you."
Merai's body went rigid.
*When had that happened?* Oh, yes. Gabriel had allowed Daisy to say goodbye before they parted.
Daisy's words flooded back.
*"Headmistress, I never considered you my mother."*
Of course. Merai wasn't her mother.
Daisy hadn't been a special child to her. It seemed she and the other children had suffered under Merai just the same. But for some reason, it was Daisy's words that clung to her most stubbornly.
*"But once... I truly loved you."*
Daisy, still holding on to the last thread of affection, had embraced Merai and whispered in her ear:
*"The lady promised to take care of us. So never tell anyone about the demon. If you have even a shred of conscience, if you ever loved us even a little—never speak of it."*
Merai had no conscience. Daisy's words should have meant nothing to her.
"Did you hear that?"
"I have good hearing."
After this, Merai fell silent. She never promised to give the required testimony, but Gabriel, considering his mission accomplished, left the cell.
---
The next day, as Gabriel had predicted, Merai was taken to the place of execution.
Those sentenced to death were held here until the appointed hour. As promised, the interrogation took place. The investigator completed the formalities, leafed through his papers, and asked without looking up:
"What do you want to eat before you die?"
The last meal.
"I don't understand why we have to feed these bastards before they die. I'd rather have gotten this money as a bonus..." He tapped his quill impatiently. "Answer quickly."
Seeing that Merai remained silent, he hurried her.
"I want soup. Potato soup."
"Potato soup?" He snorted. "Modest... Oh well."
The investigator scribbled something casually on the paper. Merai couldn't see what he wrote, but she knew anyway.
> Merai — potato soup.
Before the execution, while other prisoners devoured meat and wine, Merai ate potato soup.
Potato soup was the most common dish at the orphanage. Once, a child who was soon to be *adopted* had said he would miss this soup and asked Merai to make it one last time. From then on, she always prepared the soup before selling a child.
Why, she herself didn't know.
"Did you enjoy your last supper?"
After the meal, Merai was led to the chopping block. A rough sack was thrown over her head, and she was forced to her knees. Somewhere nearby, the scraping of a grindstone filled the air—the executioner sharpening his blade.
Merai closed her eyes.
The soup had been disgustingly tasteless.
---
## — The Rohanson Estate —
"It's beautiful weather," Evangeline remarked, gazing out the window.
"Yes, wonderful," Kanna agreed, pushing the glass panes wider. "The wind is so light—it's like it carries the scent of flowers."
Unlike Kanna, Daisy smelled something else on the breeze. Something sweet and metallic.
The scent of blood.
"Perfect weather to die."
Evangeline pushed back her wind-blown hair, her expression unreadable.
Daisy knew whose death they were speaking of.
Merai had been executed today.