#9.
Hera couldn’t tell whether the treasure had really vanished, leaving only the painting behind, or if, however fantastical it sounded, it had been absorbed into the book.
Of course, even the latter wouldn’t be surprising. Everything that had happened to her recently was far from ordinary.
She carefully closed the book and looked down at it for a moment before murmuring,
“Thank you.”
The reason she expressed gratitude was because of the wings.
It had been the prophecy book that helped her when she was falling, so it only felt natural to thank it.
Though the book had no expression or voice, Hera felt that it had accepted her thanks.
“Oh, right. Cecilia must be looking for me.”
As the tension left her body, Cecilia came to mind.
She was surely in tears by now over her sister’s sudden disappearance.
Hera quickly made her way toward the ballroom.
It had been her first heist after inheriting Emilia’s contract.
Despite all the fear she’d felt earlier, Hera was now filled with an unexplainable confidence.
The refreshing night air filled her lungs.
With a healthy body, even such a daunting adventure felt manageable.
“Who was that man, really?”
In her hand was a button.
Under the moonlight, she examined it closely—
The button was intricately carved.
“A wolf…?”
It depicted the face of a howling wolf looking up at the sky.
A wolf.
She slowly traced the carving with her thumb,
thinking it suited the man’s first impression.
As expected, Cecilia had been frantically looking for Hera.
Appearing behind her sister, who seemed half out of her mind searching, Hera tapped her on the shoulder.
“Sis! Where were you?”
“I just stepped out for a bit…”
Hera mumbled an excuse, but Cecilia didn’t question her further.
After muttering a mildly scolding, “I thought something terrible happened to you,” she clung tightly to Hera’s side.
“Let’s go home. I’m worried we might run into someone we don’t need to meet.”
Cecilia mumbled cryptically and tugged Hera along.
Hera let herself be led out of the ballroom without resistance.
But as she walked behind Cecilia, her gaze lingered on the ballroom with longing.
Though Cecilia could never know, today had been Hera’s debut in high society.
She had waited her entire life for this day.
She had dreamed of entering society in a stunning red dress, escorted by her parents, just like a scene out of an etiquette manual.
Though this wasn’t quite the picture she had imagined, being among others and having the chance to present herself was still a precious moment.
A moment Cecilia could never fully understand.
So, Hera tried to burn the sight of the ballroom into her memory until the very last step she took outside—so that she would never forget today, even in death.
“Why is the carriage taking so long?”
Cecilia grumbled.
It was understandable—
The garden of Duke Antoni’s estate was crowded with carriages waiting to take nobles home.
Though the ball was still in full swing, the long guest list meant that the line of carriages had already formed.
The Tolin family’s carriage was at the very end of the line.
“It’s going to take a while, isn’t it?”
Seeing how far their carriage still was, Hera looked around restlessly.
As if trying to make up for the years she’d lived isolated from the world, her eyes darted busily.
She didn’t quite have the courage to strike up conversations with strangers,
but she was curious enough to observe them.
There were people swaying drunkenly, others having minor squabbles with their servants.
A wide variety of people entered her field of view—
People who would now become part of her world.
“…Huh?”
Her gaze happened to land on the corner of the garden, where statues of soldiers on horseback stood.
And between the statues, she spotted a man, half-hidden.
Far from the crowd of ball attendees, no one else had noticed him.
“That person…”
The man had hair the color of golden fields.
It was the same man she had seen earlier in Duke Antoni’s bedroom.
Even from a distance—despite not having seen his face clearly—she was certain.
There weren’t many people with such a striking appearance.
“…Is he crying?”
Though his good looks were as captivating as when they first met,
his demeanor was completely different.
He had his head bowed, and tears were falling steadily from his eyes.
His shoulders trembled deeply, as if he couldn’t bear the weight of his grief.
The proud, even arrogant man from before was gone.
Seeing him cry so sorrowfully stirred Hera’s protective instincts.
That’s how pitiful his tears were.
“Sis. The carriage is here.”
Though she wanted to know more about his sadness,
she couldn’t get answers.
The carriage back home had pulled up in front of her.
Inside, Hera stared blankly out the window.
Her mind was filled with the man she’d seen before leaving Duke Antoni’s estate.
So deep in thought was she that she didn’t realize she had been continuously fiddling with the wolf-carved button.
“That button…”
“Huh?”
“Let me see it for a moment.”
The button had naturally drawn Cecilia’s attention.
After a moment’s hesitation, Hera handed it to her.
“It’s a wolf.”
The look in Cecilia’s eyes turned cold instantly.
She seemed to recognize what the wolf emblem meant.
“You met Meriot Laurent, didn’t you?
So he’s finally stepped foot in Central.”
Looking Hera directly in the eyes, Cecilia’s gaze was as icy as frost.
It carried a sharp warning, like a needle.
“That button belongs to Meriot Laurent?”
She now knew his name.
And remembered that Cecilia had mentioned him before they came to the ball.
If he was someone that triggered such caution from Cecilia…
Was he a bad person?
Hera asked carefully, “Is he… a bad person?”
Cecilia gave a joyless smile.
“Whether he’s good or bad doesn’t matter.
Father intends to marry you off to him.”
The answer was so unexpected that Hera was left speechless.
Cecilia continued, her expression darker than before.
“So for me, he’s someone I wish would just drop dead.”
The story behind Meriot Laurent’s tears in Duke Antoni’s garden was this:
“Your Highness. Lady Hera Wintaile has passed away.
It happened three days ago.”
Meriot couldn’t hide his despair.
He had truly believed he would see her again.
That he could live peacefully by her side for the rest of his life.
He hadn’t even had the chance to repay anything—
and now, she had run far, far away.
To the most distant place in this world.
“I prayed so hard for her to live…”
There were times he felt foolish clinging to such a short bond all alone.
But even so, Hera Wintaile had been his will to live—his hope for tomorrow.
She had been a permanent destination in his long, grueling life.
“Your Highness. People may notice you. Please stop crying.”
His aide, Shane, quietly warned him.
Meriot’s arrival in Central hadn’t been made official yet.
His visit to Duke Antoni’s estate tonight was a spontaneous decision.
It had only been three hours since he entered Central.
If they delayed much longer, they risked being caught up in trouble before reaching the abandoned house Meriot had secretly purchased.
Shane scanned the surroundings warily.
Though Meriot was hidden behind a statue in the garden,
the place was crowded with guests preparing to leave the ball.
Anyone could spot him at any moment.
Especially in his current state—crying—he could draw far more attention than they had planned.
“…Just a moment.”
Meriot understood Shane’s warning fully,
but all he could do was cover his eyes with a large hand.
The tears wouldn’t stop.
“Just a little longer…”
It was too short a time to process everything he was feeling.
Perhaps Hera’s will to live had kept Meriot alive—
and Meriot’s will to live had been the lifeline for Hera.
Had those ten long years of exhaustion, of apathy,
been what finally pushed her to death?
Guilt pierced Meriot’s heart like a nail.
The tears falling from his eyes were not just sorrow—
but an apology to Hera.
I’m sorry I survived alone.
Though the one who could hear it was already gone.
