YWPWYLFDM 69

Chapter 69

When Ayla first disappeared, Ophelia had been utterly beside herself.

What mother in the world could remain sane in such a situation?

Because of Byron’s rebellion, the late emperor had been gravely wounded and his life hung by a thread. The only one capable of saving him with magic was Ophelia.

So she had entrusted her beloved daughter to the nanny while she went to the palace. And when she returned—her precious child, the one she cherished more than her own eyes, was gone.

She cried until she nearly fainted, and in the middle of the night, she even tried to rush out barefoot, insisting she would go and find her child.

There were days when she lay in bed, shedding tears from morning till night. Other days, she pounded on her husband’s chest in fury, blaming him for calling her to the palace.

And then, the very next day, she would collapse in his arms, sobbing, “Roderick, you must be suffering too. I’m sorry for what I said.”

It took a long time for Ophelia to regain her composure after that.

But now—she had learned that Byron had taken her lost daughter. That he was even raising her as his own.

It might not have been as shocking as when Ayla first vanished, but naturally, one would expect her to go mad with rage.

Instead, Ophelia was terrifyingly calm and quiet. It was the kind of silence that felt like the eve of a storm.

“So that was why you knew. Because Natalia said the girl she met on the ship used a dagger.”

“…Yes. That’s right.”

Ophelia asked in a subdued voice, and Roderick, still gauging her mood, replied in a dispirited tone.

Then silence fell between them.

When she spoke again, her voice carried no hint of emotion.

“I will go to the Kingdom of Inselkopf.”

“…Ophelia, that’s—”

“My daughter could be there. Our Ayla… beside that dreadful man…”

Ophelia trembled, her body shuddering at the thought of Byron.

It was so unfair. What had she ever done wrong, to suffer this much because of that man?

From the very first moment he saw her, he had hounded her relentlessly, acting as if she already belonged to him. She had loathed it with every fiber of her being.

He forced his way into her life, tormented her at every turn—and now he had even stolen her daughter.

“I’ll kill him with my own hands…! I’ll never forgive him!”

Ophelia shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her cry was soaked in blood-deep grief.

She could not understand why heaven had stripped her of her magic. In the past, with a mere flick of her fingers, she could have engulfed Byron in flames.

It was true that the loss of her overwhelming magical power was what had allowed Noah to be conceived at all—her magic had once been so strong it had prevented any child from taking root in her womb. But in her anger, Ophelia could not think of such things.

“That’s not possible, Ophelia.”

And the one who stopped her was none other than her friend, Candice.

“Is it because of Noah? Just bring him with you.”

“…Where could I possibly take a newborn? And that’s not the reason.”

Ophelia wiped the angry tears from her eyes, but Candice only shook her head sternly.

“Didn’t Ayla tell the crown prince something in secret? She told him to call her Your Highness without letting anyone else know. What do you think that means? It means Byron planted a spy right by your side.”

“…”

“And if you—having just given birth—suddenly set out for a foreign country? To Inselkopf, of all places, where Byron and Ayla might be? Don’t you think Byron will find that suspicious?”

Candice laid out her reasoning point by point, calmly and logically.

It was fortunate they had placed a soundproofing spell on the room before starting this conversation.

If Byron’s spy overheard Ophelia screaming like this, it would have been disastrous.

Roderick opened his mouth to join in, but Candice held up her hand to stop him.

“And for the same reason, you can’t go either, Roderick. You were about to say, ‘Then I’ll go in your place,’ weren’t you? But how could the duke suddenly abandon his post and vanish?”

Roderick let out a weary sigh, as though she had hit the nail on the head, and fell silent.

Normally, he would have been the first to realize such a problem, but when it came to his daughter, his emotions clouded his reason.

“…Then what should we do? Just wait, believing her promise to come back?”

In the end, Ophelia buried her face in her hands and wept. She felt suffocated.

For ten long years, she had done everything in her power to get her daughter back.

Then, in a single day, she had lost her magic without even knowing why. Now, after finally uncovering a lead to her daughter’s whereabouts, she was being told she could do nothing but sit and wait?

It was too cruel a reality.

“I’ll go. You two stay here.”

Candice grinned confidently, like one of the characters she often sketched.

“…What?”

“What did you just say, Candice?”

The couple spoke at once, baffled.

For months, Candice had stayed by Ophelia’s side, caring for her health while also studying the magical artifacts Ophelia had created.

She had tried every possible method to unravel the security spells cast by the greatest sorcerer the world had ever known—one who was no longer alive.

If Ophelia still had her magic, locating Ayla would have been child’s play.

Ophelia already felt deeply grateful and guilty for all that Candice had done. And now, Candice was volunteering to go abroad herself to find Ayla.

“The truth is… I just finished a prototype tracker. Its range is very limited—you have to be very close—but I want to test it directly.”

“…Candice.”

Ophelia called her friend’s name in a choked voice.

“You don’t need to thank me. Not between us. Besides, I miss my first niece too.”

Candice draped an arm over each of their shoulders and spoke in an exaggerated tone.

“And anyway, it’s about time I went back. If I sneak aboard Natalia’s ship, no one will suspect a thing. And what’s the point of having siblings if not this? She can drop me off in Inselkopf along the way.”

Inselkopf lay at the southern tip of a long peninsula, far south even of the island republic of Tamora. “Dropping her off along the way” was practically impossible—it was a long detour.

Still—

“I know it’s shameless of me, but I’ll ask this of you, Candice.”

Ophelia gripped her friend’s hand tightly.

If Candice could bring back Ayla, Ophelia would gladly give her very life in exchange.

At that moment, Roderick, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke.

“But… will it be all right? Shouldn’t you be returning to the council and the academy soon…?”

He wasn’t wrong. She had already been absent for months. Surely the Republic of Tamora was waiting for her return.

Candice narrowed her eyes at him and withdrew her arms from their shoulders.

“Really, Roderick? You too? Honestly, I should just hand in my resignation. Ah, forget it. I’m off to pack. The sooner I leave, the sooner we’ll find your daughter.”

She waved her hand lazily as she sauntered out of the room.

Watching her retreating back, the mood felt almost absurdly light—it nearly made them laugh despite the gravity of the situation.

“…She’s not actually going to resign, is she?”

Roderick asked in a worried voice.

He was grateful beyond words for her help in finding Ayla, but if she quit her career because of it, he would feel terribly guilty.

“Don’t worry. Candice is too valuable. If she ever tried to resign, the council and the academy would probably get on their knees and beg her to stay.”

Ophelia answered as she wiped her tear-stained eyes.

They say laughing right after crying brings misfortune. But thanks to their cheerful friend, they could at least smile in a moment like this.

The carriage carrying Ayla and Gerald ran for another two hours before arriving in the domain of Count Senosfon.

Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was frozen, like a blizzard in midwinter.

The knights accompanying them exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of what had happened.

When their young master had dismissed them earlier, he had been positively giddy at the thought of being alone with the girl he liked. Yet now, he was glaring at her with a thunderous scowl. What on earth had happened in their absence?

Gerald’s sharp, angry gaze bore into Ayla, but she only turned her head to the window, unbothered.

In fact—she was amused.

His nose and cheek were still red and pressed flat from dozing uncomfortably at the table, and now he sat huffing and puffing at her like an indignant child.

She had once thought his face passably decent. But seeing it twisted in sulky anger, he looked petty and spiteful—just like his father.

What does he think glaring like that will accomplish?

He didn’t seem foolish enough to blab about what had happened today. And he knew full well that he could never best Ayla in a fight. So all he could do was snort and puff like a bull to show his frustration.

It was laughably pathetic.

At last, the carriage reached the count’s estate.

The moment it stopped, Gerald jumped out without a word, striding off toward the main building without even offering his hand to escort her.

Earlier, he had been scheming desperately for an excuse to hold her hand. What a dramatic change.

As Ayla stepped down with a smirk, a tall figure approached her in long strides, as if he had been waiting for her.

It was Claude.