ITVDWBE 109

~Chapter 109~

The news of the Duchess’s disappearance spread quickly, no matter how hard they tried to control the information.

The Gwinted estate, once lively, now carried a gloomy and tense atmosphere.

Knights of the Duke’s house, along with guild members hired for the search, crossed the land several times a day with grim faces. Because of that, visitors who had come for sightseeing stopped coming, and the mood grew harsher. At times, Richard himself would appear to verify false rumors, and whenever that happened, everyone held their breath at the sight of his chilling presence.

During the festival, when he was with Ancia, Richard had been curt, but very different from the frightening duke they once knew. The people had realized that his change was because of the Duchess, and so they had lost their fear and felt reassured. But now that Ancia was gone, Richard’s presence was no longer simply cold—it carried the sharpness of death. Just seeing him made people uneasy.

The Duke’s household was darker still. Everyone walked on eggshells, desperate not to provoke their master, who radiated a blade-like aura.

Arthur gave a careful report while watching Richard, who stood motionless, staring only at the map. His bloodshot eyes, lacking sleep, would sometimes flash with such intensity that they made others flinch.

It seemed dangerous—Richard looked ready to explode at any moment, and only Arthur dared speak to him.

Richard knew his patience had long since run out. He clung to his reason with all his strength.

For days, they had searched not only their own lands but even neighboring territories, turning everything upside down, yet no new information appeared.

A carrier pigeon arrived from the elite knights sent to the Count of Leslie’s domain—it contained only the report that no traces were found. Richard had instructed them beforehand that if they found Ancia or Nathan, they should use the guild’s communication system, even if the royal family heard about it.

Through witnesses, they had gotten the coachman’s vague description. But if this had been carefully planned, finding him would be close to impossible. Even so, Richard’s men interrogated every coachman in the nearby estates, stirring up resentment.

But Richard heard none of the complaints. His anger had no outlet, and as days passed, fear and frustration gave way to one thing only—Ancia’s safety.

At first, he had tried to stay calm. But after a week without any leads, fear crept in.

Even imagining the possibility of losing Ancia made his breath catch in his chest.

He still knew nothing.

It should not have come to this.

Holding his head, Richard let out a deep sigh.

Arthur, watching him, prepared to resume the search. Then footsteps rushed from outside, and when the door opened, an aide burst in, panting.

“Your Grace, we may have found the coachman!”

Arthur and Richard exchanged glances, and both moved at once.

The aide explained that the coachman had come forward himself and was now locked in the interrogation room.

When they arrived, the torturer was already there, pressing the coachman.

At Richard’s entrance, the torturer and soldiers stepped back against the wall.

The coachman looked completely ordinary—so plain that witnesses had barely remembered his face.

Richard had no patience left. He wasn’t planning to waste time on torture.

“For every lie you speak, I’ll cut off one wrist.”

“Ahh! P-please, sir, don’t do this!”

Seeing Richard’s hand almost on his sword, the coachman stumbled back in fear and fell over with his chair.

The torturer quickly grabbed him and bowed to Richard.

“This man came on his own after hearing the rumors. His description matches Madam and the man.”

In other words—he should be coaxed rather than threatened.

At Richard’s signal, Arthur opened a chest in the corner, showing gold coins and magic stones.

But the coachman didn’t even glance at them. Instead, he muttered resentfully:

“I can’t read, but I recognized them from the portrait in the paper. They were the passengers I drove. I bragged about it—she was such a beautiful lady, and it was unusual, so I remembered.”

“What was unusual?”

“A well-dressed nobleman said he wanted a secret trip with his lover… Ahh!”

“Where is my wife?”

Richard’s killing glare made the coachman cower behind the torturer.

Arthur quickly stepped in, afraid Richard’s fury would ruin their only lead. Richard forced himself to step back, crossing his arms to show he would not attack.

Only then did the trembling coachman speak again, almost crying.

“I was supposed to line up the carriages until nightfall, but that man came to me. He said the noble lady’s attendants and guards were in the way, and asked me to help. He gave me herb powder to mix in. My only crime is taking them to a deserted place.”

Nathan planned all this?

No—it had to be an abduction. Richard’s neck stiffened with tension.

“Where was this place?”

“From the fork in the Black Forest, straight east.”

A trap—or the truth?

Richard, as though about to dash off, instead placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“I’ll sleep for a while.”

“Pardon?”

Arthur blinked at the sudden change, but Richard answered in a looser tone.

“Compare the coachman’s testimony with everything we’ve gathered so far. Check its truth.”

“Yes… yes, I’ll verify thoroughly.”

“If what he says is true… then I’ll go to the Count of Leslie myself. Prepare the knights.”

At last, Richard himself would move. The Count of Leslie, Ancia’s guardian, was close to the royal court—Richard rarely ever went there.

Arthur bowed deeply as Richard left, then turned back to the still-frightened coachman.

It was time to tear apart his testimony for flaws.

Was this a dream? Or an illusion?

She felt as though she had slept for a very long time, her sense of reality dulled.

In a haze, Ancia slowly blinked her heavy eyelids. Through blurry vision, she saw Nathan and Bianca arguing about whether something was a leek or a celery stalk. She thought it must be a dream and closed her eyes again.

“…That’s why…”

“…good for the body.”

The voices grew clearer, pulling her foggy mind back to awareness.

“That’s why I’m worried. With such a high fever, adding heat will only make An worse.”

“Then should we throw off the blankets and open the windows wide?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

When Ancia tilted her head toward the sound, the wet cloth on her forehead slipped off and fell.

At the small noise, both Nathan and Bianca turned at once.

“Madam?”

“Ancia!”

Their desperate voices cleared the last traces of sleep from her. Her body still ached and felt heavy, but their earnest gazes gave her strength to rise.

Her back and waist throbbed painfully—it must have been at least 48 hours she had lain there.

“Madam, are you awake?”

“…Bianca…”

Her last memory was wandering the forest with Nathan. Bianca’s presence was comforting, but the wooden walls and narrow room looked far from the Duke’s mansion.

“Where…” cough cough

“Here, have some water, Madam.”

Her mouth was parched, her voice cracked.

“An, do you recognize me?”

At Nathan’s question, so obvious yet filled with emotion, Ancia gave a slow nod. Nathan’s face lit with relief as he turned to Bianca.

“You were right. I was so afraid she’d never wake.”

“Changing the herb mixture must have worked.”

Ancia’s hand trembled as she took the cup Bianca gave her.

How long have I been lying down, that I can’t even hold a cup properly?

After finishing the water, she looked at the two still watching her closely.

“Where are we…?”

“A village near my home—Nun-Nun Village.”