YWPWYLFDM 31

Chapter 31

“Well… I’m not really sure about that either…”

Vince answered with a blank expression.

It wasn’t a lie. Vince hadn’t read Cloud’s letter thoroughly, so he didn’t really know its contents. Aila noticed the truth in his expression, and her own face changed immediately. The pure, bright smile she had worn moments ago was replaced in an instant by a cold, expressionless mask.

Yet, despite the dramatic shift in her expression, Vince didn’t suspect a thing. After all, Aila was usually an expressionless child.

Time passed in that heavy silence until Laura came into the room, her face urgent.

“Go pack your things. We’re leaving soon.”

Even though Aila had slept well after taking a sleeping pill, her expression betrayed her annoyance at having her sweet rest interrupted.

Perhaps inheriting her mother’s personality, Laura’s commanding tone left Vince slightly uncomfortable. He nodded and left the room. Truth be told, he was secretly relieved to escape the awkward situation with Aila, so the order suited him perfectly.

“You should get up and get ready too, miss.”

“Now?”

They weren’t strangers to sudden travel—packing quickly and leaving at a moment’s notice had happened before. But usually, they were given at least a day’s notice. Leaving so abruptly was unusual.

It seemed to be because of the contents of the letter from Cloud.

“Yes. Get up quickly. There’s no time. If you delay because of the miss, do you know how angry the master will be?”

Laura started babbling again. After a few quiet days following the news that Cloud had disappeared, hearing that he was safe had fully revitalized her.

“Ugh… okay.”

Fortunately, all the important items were already packed in Winfred’s magic chest, so there was nothing else for her to prepare. She only needed to change into her travel clothes. Since she would be taking a potion to change her hair and eye color, she did need a moment to mentally prepare.

Aside from the suddenness, nothing was really unusual. But when she descended to the first floor of the inn, Aila couldn’t help but be startled.

“What’s going on…? Is that really Capella and Laura?”

Capella and Laura were dressed in elegant, luxurious clothing, completely different from their usual attire. They looked every bit like a high-ranking noblewoman and her daughter.

It was almost uncanny how natural they looked in those outfits, as if they had been born to wear them.

“You’ve arrived, miss.”

Capella, wearing a luxurious hat adorned with ornate flowers, looked down at her. Her red eyes were cold as ever, but her attire transformed even that coldness into the haughty, noble gaze of an aristocratic lady.

“You may take the carriage over there, miss.”

“Huh…?”

It wasn’t the shabby carriage she usually took with Laura, but Byron’s elegant carriage.

“Really… this one?”

“Um… please wait a moment, miss.”

A member of Byron’s retinue standing beside the carriage answered awkwardly. Aila stared blankly, not understanding why she had to wait when she was ready to board. Soon, Byron himself arrived, wearing a needlessly solemn expression.

“Come here, my daughter.”

There was none of the usual fuss—no brushing her hair aside, no kisses on the cheek. He simply placed his hand on her shoulder with a stern, unyielding expression.

When the carriage door opened, Aila was even more startled.

The carriage floor had a hidden compartment, a narrow space where someone could hide. And she was expected to enter it.

“It will be uncomfortable, but there’s no choice. For safety, you’ll have to hide with me.”

Just hiding in that narrow space was bad enough, but now she had to squeeze in with Byron. She felt nauseated at the thought.

No matter how you looked at it, if the two of them went in together, they’d have to press tightly against each other with no room to move.

“…You want me to go in there?”

And with you? Sharing such a confined space with someone you loathed, so close that even your breath would brush—there was no way to respond politely.

“My daughter, are you complaining? Even I endure it.”

Byron asked in a gentle tone, but Aila understood the hidden frustration beneath the kindness: were you really going to defy me now? She quickly shook her head.

“I’m fine. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

As always, she replied with polite words, and Byron nodded approvingly. He led the way, lying down first in the carriage floor compartment.

She had no choice but to follow. Closing her eyes tightly, Aila lay down beside him. Soon, the floor compartment was sealed.

Though not completely airtight, it was a pitch-dark, confined space with barely any light. It was far from comfortable.

Soon, the sound of high heels against wood reached her—Laura and Capella had boarded the carriage.

Finally, the carriage began to move, the rhythmic sound of hooves and wheels scraping against the ground echoing through the confined space.

Being in the dark made her senses even sharper than usual. Byron’s breathing, the pounding of his heart—it all seemed painfully loud.

She hated that her body kept touching his. Lying together in the tight space made it feel as if he were holding her.

It was a dreadful moment, almost as terrible as the time she had felt death in his hands. Anger rose uncontrollably from deep inside her.

Think about something else. It will be over soon.

She tried to redirect her thoughts. But unfortunately, there was nothing else in her life. She had lived her entire life only for Byron.

She tried thinking of other faces she missed, but it did little good. Recalling Rodrick and Ophelia only stirred unbearable anger, sadness, and guilt, dragging her mood further down.

Then—

…Winfred.

Winfred Ulysses Vito Peles.

Thinking of him calmed the turmoil within her. The memory of him scolding her for treating him like a child. The way he suddenly added “yo” at the end of his words, speaking in half-formal language.

The way he tried to look cool using magic scrolls, eyes sparkling at her as if to say, “Didn’t I do well?”

At the time, she had just found it amusing. Now, recalling it, he seemed utterly adorable.

Her heart, which had been racing with anger, slowly began to calm. Yes. Winfred existed.

He was the first real friend she had ever had in both her past and current lives.

Aila closed her eyes and returned her mind to that night—lying together on the roof, gazing at the stars.

Her heart felt at ease in an instant. It wasn’t as if she forgot Byron was beside her, but Winfred gave her the strength to endure this dreadful time.

“Still haven’t found him?”

“…Yes. As you ordered, we searched every clinic in the city, no matter how small, but there’s no record of a man with an injury near his eye receiving treatment.”

Alexia anxiously pounded her desk at the report from her subordinates. That night, they had hurriedly closed the city gates and searched the streets, but they couldn’t find any trace of Cloud.

They considered the possibility that he had already escaped outside the city walls and scoured nearby villages, but found nothing.

…It wasn’t a minor injury.

The sensation of her sword cutting Cloud was still vivid at her fingertips. The wound had been deep, surely. Had she imagined it?

No, he had been struck by her heavy sword. Even if he hadn’t been cut, it would have been natural for him to lose consciousness from the impact.

Yet the man who had been bleeding profusely suddenly disappeared. It was unbelievable.

This is my fault.

She bit her lip tightly. Thankfully, there were no fatalities, but several had sustained serious injuries. Healing magic could save lives, but could not remove their pain. Watching those injured suffer because of her foolishness was unbearably painful.

Leaning back in her chair with a throbbing headache, she received a message that Winfred wanted to see her.

“…Huff.”

There was no time to dwell on despair if Winfred wanted her. Alexia let out a heavy sigh and rose from her seat.

“What is it, Your Highness?”

When Alexia arrived at Winfred’s room, he was sitting at his desk, reading something intently. At his command, she took a seat, waiting silently as he prepared to speak.

“Abamama has sent a reply, Sir Dexen.”

Winfred spoke with an inscrutable expression. Alexia closed her eyes tightly, frowning deeply.

A few days ago, the mission to capture Cloud had failed, and she had sent a letter to the Emperor, accepting responsibility. Her failure had caused many subordinates to be injured, and the traitor they had tried to capture had escaped. She might have to resign her position.

Now the reply had arrived.

Alexia quickly rose and knelt on the floor.

“Please give your command, Your Highness.”

Her expression was resolute, as if willing to obey any order—even one that demanded her life.