Chapter 94
Yulia was less happy about gaining a bit of freedom to meet Cain, and far happier that Cayente had granted her request. To her, it was proof that he was slowly opening his heart to her.
“Lucy, send this to Sir Cain.”
Early that morning, after seeing Cayente off, Yulia arranged a meeting with Cain. She’d written: Please help me prepare for the music recital. Let’s have lunch together at the coffee house we visited before. Cain immediately sent a reply saying he would come at once.
Yulia chose a light sky-blue chiffon dress—the thinnest one she owned that wasn’t too sheer and still looked neat. Though, knowing Cayente, he would probably still call it revealing.
“When will the weather cool down?”
“At this rate, won’t we suddenly get freezing winds again?”
On their way by carriage toward Diela Street for the lunch appointment, Lucy sighed as the blazing summer sun beat down even in the early morning. The Empire’s summers were suffocatingly hot, but short-lived. Some people were sad about that. Lucy, however, already looked exhausted from the heat.
Yulia suddenly remembered that summer had come so soon after her marriage that she never arranged a vacation for Lucy. Feeling guilty, she resolved that this winter she would give Lucy—and all the household staff—a long holiday. With that in mind, she asked where Lucy’s hometown was.
“Near the southern Saun harbor.”
“Saun? Isn’t that close to Laroche? How did you end up working all the way in Laroche?”
“It was hard to make a living back home. It’s mostly a passenger port, so there weren’t many jobs.”
Only now did Yulia finally learn Lucy’s past. No wonder she worked so well—Lucy had become a maid in the Capital at a very young age after losing her parents to illness.
“If you find a good man, you have to introduce him to me. And when you get married, you are not leaving. You’ll have to bring him to live in our mansion. Understand?”
“Why are you suddenly talking about my marriage? That’s a long way off.”
Yulia could only imagine how hard things must have been for Lucy—so young, working alone, struggling. If Lucy really wanted to “bury her bones in Cluga,” as she always said, Yulia felt she would gladly let her. She teased Lucy about romance and boyfriends as they rolled into the plaza where the central fountain came into view.
Then—
“Neighhhh!”
“Waaah!”
The carriage jolted violently and stopped as if slammed into a wall. There was a harsh cry from the horses, and then the coachman screamed. Before they could react, rough men burst into the carriage.
Neither Yulia nor Lucy asked who they were or why they had come.
“Madam, if you don’t want a scratch on that precious body, I suggest you sit still.”
Knives—sharp, gleaming—were pressed close by the men sitting beside Lucy and across from Yulia.
* * *
The Emperor had already been struggling with bandits appearing on the roads between territories. Cayente knew about it. But it had nothing to do with him—until now. There was no cotton shipment yet, no wages traveling down to the farms, nothing worth stealing.
Henry, unable to believe what he’d heard, stammered that he would confirm whether it really was Yulia in the carriage Cain saw—then bolted out of the office.
“In broad daylight… and at the entrance to a crowded plaza… Who would dare kidnap a carriage like that…?”
Cain had seen it. He had come early for the meeting and was scanning the road for Yulia’s arrival. He spotted Cluga’s carriage approaching the plaza—then saw armed men storm inside.
Someone interfering with his and Yulia’s plans was one thing. But for Cluga’s carriage to be hijacked inside the Capital itself—there was no way this was coincidence.
He naturally assumed it was Dainska’s doing.
He thought Abel was sabotaging Yulia, and that Cain—who adored his sister—was sabotaging him. That was his conclusion.
But he had been completely wrong. Cain’s face was pale from shock as he described what he saw. Cayente, already white with terror, staggered and pushed himself up from his desk.
This was not the time to panic. He needed to act.
“What is the Emperor doing? A kidnapping in broad daylight, in the main shopping district?”
“I will go to the palace. Sir Cain, please call for the city guards. We’ll also need an artist. You remember the kidnappers’ faces, right? We need wanted posters printed and spread immediately.”
The situation was urgent enough that Cayente asked Cain—a man he never imagined asking for help.
Before finishing the sentence, Cayente was already running downstairs. He spotted Ian pacing in agitation in the lobby.
“Ian!”
“Yes, Brother!”
“Hire a carriage. I’m going to the palace.”
He couldn’t stand the idea of Yulia trembling somewhere alone. Anyone who could be used would be used. Whatever money it required, he would spend it. The only thing that mattered was rescuing Yulia as fast as possible.
Yulia would be terrified, waiting only for him.
* * *
The men in the carriage immediately blindfolded Yulia and Lucy. The carriage ran for a long time. Eventually, they felt it enter a building. When it stopped, the men yanked both women out and threw them onto the ground.
Thankfully, they hadn’t bound them. Yulia quickly pulled off her blindfold.
The sun was already sinking. They must have traveled far outside the Capital. They were inside a tall, empty building with windows only high near the ceiling—similar to one of Cayente’s factory buildings. Dust coated everything, as if the place had been abandoned for years.
“Let her go!”
“I can’t.”
“You little—!”
But despite Cayente’s fears, Yulia wasn’t crying. She had twisted her wrist earlier while stopping a man from beating the coachman, but she was still strong and clear-headed.
It wasn’t because she wasn’t afraid. She understood she might not live through this.
But she would not sit still and watch others suffer for her sake.
Whether this was jealousy from some unknown woman, or a scheme to demand ransom—no matter what it was—this was happening because of her. She would not let anyone else get hurt.
“Hey! Careful. They said not to touch that woman.”
The same man who had threatened the coachman outside spoke again. His words made Yulia feel slightly relieved. Whether or not he’d said it, she would have fought anyway—but at least she knew they had orders not to harm her.
“Let her go!”
“No.”
“M-Madam—! Sob…!”
The man who had sat across from Yulia stopped beating the coachman, and then a different man—older, one eye strangely pale—tried to drag Lucy away. Yulia wrapped both arms and legs around Lucy, refusing to let go, getting dragged along the filthy floor with her.
“Let her go!”
“I said no.”
“Madam! Uwaaaah!”
Lucy was sobbing, terrified that Yulia might let go. The man shouted for her to release the girl. It was chaos. But Yulia didn’t give up. Even if her wrist broke, she would never let these filthy men lay hands on Lucy—who hadn’t even had her coming-of-age ceremony yet.
“Oh, give it a rest!”
“Endure it. You want to collect your money, don’t you?”
Unlike the rough, violent men, the one who dragged the coachman had a calm manner. Hearing him talk about money, saying not to harm her, confirmed Yulia’s guess—this wasn’t revenge, but ransom.
Most kidnappers, if paid, returned their hostages alive.
“Willy, are you okay?”
“Yes, Madam. I-I’m fine. Cough…”
Before, Yulia might have doubted that Cayente would pay to save her. But not anymore. Whatever absurd amount they demanded, he would not abandon her. He had changed.
There was no way money mattered more to him than her life.
“Madam…”
“It’s alright, Lucy. Stay close to me. Even if I’m seriously hurt, I will never hand you over.”
“H-hngh…”
All Yulia had to do was keep everyone alive until Cayente paid the ransom. The kidnappers still held knives, and fear washed over her again and again—but she never let it show.
Cayente would come.
He would rescue her.
* * *
Not even an hour after Yulia disappeared, wanted posters with sketched faces of the kidnappers were posted around the fountain plaza. Guards chased the carriage’s trail. The Emperor willingly granted troops to Cayente.
Whatever they demanded, Cayente was prepared to give—as long as Yulia returned safely. Yet the kidnappers still hadn’t made contact.
His mind went white over and over, but he had done everything possible. All that was left was to wait.
He sat silently on the office sofa. Henry, reading the tense air, brought sandwiches and tea.
“I know you have no appetite, my Lord, but if this continues, your strength may fail. Please try to eat a little.”
Cayente picked up a sandwich and bit into it without a word. Across from him, Cain scowled, incredulous.
“I can’t believe it. Even now you can eat? And they call me cold-blooded.”
