~Chapter 116~
Ancia wished she could one day share all these feelings — joy, unease, and yet hope — with Richard.
She wanted to send them all through letters, but the roads were blocked with snow and carrier pigeons were far too expensive. So instead, she wrote down her heart in her notebook.
She knew Nathan and Bianca were working hard to care for her, so she tried to stay cheerful. But no matter what, her longing for Richard kept rising again and again.
She often imagined how worried he must be since she had disappeared. She told herself he would never forget her — yet doubts and fears would still overwhelm her.
“As much as I long to see Richard, he must be longing to see me too.”
She erased her dark thoughts as best she could, imagining only how happy he would be when they met again. She poured all of her longing into words.
Her notebook began like a travel record — from the terror of being kidnapped to the strange journey that brought her here. Later entries were filled with how she endured thanks to Nathan and Bianca, how much she missed Richard, and her vow to protect their child no matter what.
She even wrote down small details — about the water jars that only worked in this village, or recipes the neighbors taught her. Her writing had already filled two entire notebooks.
Every time she sat down to write, her eyes grew red with tears.
They had already spent all the remaining magic stones to send carrier pigeons many times, but not a single reply had ever come. She could only guess the messages never reached.
She told herself that in another month or two, the snow would melt and they could return home. But once her longing burst, tears fell endlessly.
Nathan and Bianca, separated only by a thin wall, knew all of this. They noticed she cried only when she opened her notebooks, never in front of them.
That was when Nathan finally decided to carry out the plan he and Bianca had discussed.
“This week, some villagers said they’d leave, right?”
“Yes. When the snow hardens, it’s slow but safe enough to travel. Some young men try to escape around this time. That’s when we can pay them to deliver letters. Should I sell my heating stone?”
“No. I’ll go with them myself.”
“What? You, sir?”
This time, the ones leaving were all strong young men. The snow was piled too high for horses, so they had to walk for days to escape. Most villagers thought it was reckless, but sometimes they used these men for carrying outletter jobs.
“Letters left to others can’t be trusted anymore. I’ll go myself.”
Bianca wanted to stop him, but after remembering Ancia’s quiet tears, she reluctantly agreed.
“Sir, you’ve gotten stronger these last months. Once you pass the ice roads, you can rent a horse in the next town. It should be fine.”
“Yes. The eastern route is closer. I’ll stop by home and then bring people back with me.”
“Be strong, sir. Don’t worry about my lady — I’ll protect her.”
Nathan saw the steel beneath Bianca’s cheerful face and trusted her. He decided to go.
He gently touched the baby clothes Ancia had been sewing, then began preparing to leave.
The journey was harsher than he imagined. The young men carried only liquor and meat, laughing all the way. Nathan had no choice but to stay with them, though their recklessness frustrated him.
The makeshift tents couldn’t block the icy winds at night. Nathan’s heating stone helped, but his hands and feet still froze. He was grateful Ancia was safe and warm at home.
After many days, his feet swollen and raw, he finally reached a nearby village and rented a horse. Riding nonstop, he at last reached familiar roads.
“Finally. I’ve found the way back.”
His body almost collapsed with relief, but excitement pushed him forward.
‘Wait a little longer, An. I’ll bring the Duke to you.’
The roads in the east were muddy from heavy rain. His horse grew exhausted, and Nathan was soaked, but he didn’t stop.
When he finally reached the Leslie estate, the servants stared in shock.
“O–Oh, Young Master!”
They had always called him “Young Master” before Ancia’s marriage. Their affection warmed him.
“Don’t be so startled. Are my parents inside?”
But before they could answer, their eyes widened. Nathan turned — a spear slammed into the front gate, perfectly wedged to keep it open.
“Who dares throw a spear at the Count’s gate?” Nathan demanded.
A rider on a black horse approached. Nathan froze.
“Duke Gwinted…? Did you receive my letter?”
It had been months, but Nathan recognized Richard instantly. Despite the cold aura surrounding the Duke, Nathan was only glad to see him.
“If you had received my letters, you wouldn’t be here. I sent pigeons several times, but no one came. I must have been scammed.”
“Carrier pigeons?” Richard muttered. His fury, which had been boiling over, faltered.
Ten days earlier, Richard had left his estate, unable to bear the waiting any longer. He rode his warhorse nearly to death and reached the East in a week.
He had been watching the Count’s estate for days when Nathan appeared. Rage overtook him. He hurled a knight’s spear to block the gate and stormed forward, intent on seizing Nathan and forcing out Ancia’s whereabouts.
But Nathan didn’t flinch. He greeted Richard warmly, complaining about wasted pigeons as if nothing were wrong.
Richard’s suspicion didn’t fade — he remembered every testimony, every shred of evidence. Yet Nathan’s composure wasn’t an act.
“Viscount Leslie. What game are you playing?”
“Game? I came desperately, to bring news as fast as I could.”
Nathan saw Richard’s silence as permission to continue.
“Ancia is waiting for you.”
Her name shattered Richard’s heart like thunder. He leapt from his horse, closing the distance with deadly force, but Nathan calmly explained.
“She’s alive, deep in the Black Forest, in a village not on any maps. It’s called Snow-nun Village. I remember the location clearly — don’t worry.”
Richard clenched his hands to resist strangling him. If this was true, it was the first chance to bring Ancia back.
“I’ll mark it on a map for you,” Nathan offered, turning his back to search his pack.
Richard’s hand moved by instinct, grabbing the back of his neck.
