“It’s a letter.”

Today marks the thirty-sixth letter.

That compresses the past 3 years of time.

Cassian’s time was still lingering in Ephrose.

Twelve seasons faced in Ephrose over the past years.

Letters from that child have arrived without fail, not even once missing.

The letters that come neither too quickly nor too slowly, taking their time to reach me, resemble that shadow.

It was a course that did not deviate even an inch from expectations.

The letters filled with phrases too ambiguous to be called outcries, yet too desperate to be called otherwise, made me even more malicious.

Unaware of this, that child sends me letters with even more effort.

Usually wishing for my safety and health, and occasionally writing about my circumstances.

While I was in Ephrose, that child left Alphonse and moved to the capital.

After passing the imperial administrative exam, which can only be entered by ranking first, she is now provided with lodging and meals.

If not for the medicine, that child would have no reason to seek me out now.

Sometimes, as I look at these letters, I become curious.

At the end of that child’s letters, there is always such a message written.

That she is praying to God for my safe return.

Would that child be this enthusiastic even knowing that only after my death would her birth mother’s remaining life be fully guaranteed?

Would she still pray the same prayer then?

Or would she stand on Count Alten’s side and cry out for my death at last?

You would ask for my death, wouldn’t you?

Being the dutiful daughter who works and moves solely for that medicine.

With a wry smile, he unfolded the unsealed letter, and the thirty-sixth letter enveloped his vision.

That child’s handwriting is pressed firmly every time.

As if pondering dozens of times before writing.

The neat handwriting reminded him of that demure child.

I wonder if she still goes around with such a face.

No, she must have become a full-fledged woman by now.

Three years have already passed.

I’m quite curious about how the silhouette of that shadow, which may have changed unrecognizably, might look now.

Ridiculously so.

This child’s sentences, which always end with a period, ended with a question mark today.

Of course, she didn’t ask out of curiosity.

It’s probably just something added out of concern that it might seem insincere to only talk about herself.

She must have written it expecting no reply to come anyway.

However, one shouldn’t carelessly make such obvious expectations.

Cassian picked up a pen after quite a long time.

After sealing the letter and handing it to Tiobe, he stood up.

Tiobe, who was shocked enough for his eyes to pop out after confirming the recipient, followed behind him while hiccupping.

However, he didn’t ask any questions.

Well, it was stranger to only receive letters one-sidedly for 3 years.

Any normal person would stop writing letters out of wounded pride if no reply ever came.

Is that woman finally receiving a reply after 3 years of persistence?

Or did she receive a strong warning to stop writing letters?

Either way, it was clear that there had been a change in his lord’s state of mind.

A letter suddenly.

Well, it was about time for a change in his state of mind.

The end of a stagnant 3 years.

The time for treatment had ended, and he had received a clean bill of health not long ago.

Now he could become a perfect heir as the proud Cassian Blanchet, soon to become the head of the family.

Tomorrow he would return to the capital, and his predetermined future would continue.

It was right to cut off past relationships for such a future.

If it would be an obstacle.

Tiobe delivered the quite curious letter to a subordinate and immediately followed after Cassian.

Purple flowers were in full bloom on Ephrose Island, which would be their last.

Over the past 3 years, most of Ephrose’s land had been filled with these nameless purple flowers instead of roses, as Cassian had instructed them to cultivate.

Cassian, walking along that path, boasted a distinctly different tall stature and toned muscles compared to 3 years ago.

Something fluttered and settled on top of that.

“It’s snow.”

Only then did Cassian’s gaze slowly move towards the sky.

Snow, even though the flowers haven’t fallen yet.

The snow, which started as sleet, grew larger in particle size as they headed towards the dock.

A faint murmur arose around them.

“It’s the first snow.”

“Indeed. Didn’t they say wishes come true when you see the first snow?”

“No, they said love comes true.”

“Ah…”

Love. Cassian sneered at the romantic word that didn’t suit him.

Does such a thing even exist in this world?

Cassian’s hand slowly stretched out.

A pure white crystal settled demurely on it.

“But they say you have to see it together for love to come true.”

“Damn it. Why do you have to… at a time like this.”

Short sighs intersected and jostled in the space above.

“Then did you think about finding a woman on this remote island?”

“But aren’t we going back now? To the capital.”

Cassian smiled bitterly as he heard the gradually diminishing voices.

Love, they say.

His hand, which had been blankly staring at the snow, clenched and then opened again in a moment.

As if it had never happened, the particles left no trace, turning to water before dissipating faintly.

Cassian suddenly wondered.

Would that child be seeing this unsightly snow too?

She probably would be.

Although the distance from Ephrose Island to Pantheon is quite far, the empire’s heavy snowfall was expected.

What would that child be thinking of while seeing this snow?

[This is the timeline separator]

The harsh winter cold bit into the skin as pure white snow fell relentlessly over Pantheon, the capital.

The countless crowds of the capital flocked to the square for the first snow, dubbed a symbol of romance.

However, the same object doesn’t hold the same meaning for everyone.

Yuriel recalled the terrible blizzard from two years ago.

On that night when they fled from Alphonse, the roads were just as full of snow.

As if trying to hinder the path of her mother and herself.

After the young master left Alphonse, the lord’s gaze towards her mother gradually became more blatant.

To be precise, it was from when rumors spread that the young master was leaving for study abroad.

If he at least tried to hide it at first, from about a year later… he clearly seemed convinced that he wouldn’t return.

Eventually, the lord started saying strange things to her mother.

[You must repay the debt of letting you and your daughter stay in this mansion.] [You should warm my room when I return from patrolling the territory.] [If you don’t want to see your daughter sold as a slave.]

This much was what Aunt Mary had filtered and relayed.

Saying she thought she should tell her this much, since she was the one who brought her into this house.

Yuriel didn’t want to imagine what else he might have said to her mother beyond that.

Not wanting to remind her mother of that incident in front of her, Yuriel only repeated that they should leave quietly.

With just one day left until the lord returned from patrolling the territory.

Despite her mother’s objections, she pushed her mother’s back and left Alphonse together.

That escape, having to break through the heavy snowfall in a frenzy, was nothing short of hell.

There was nowhere in the unfamiliar capital to take in her and her mother, nor could they find work to solve their lodging and food problems.

On that street, perfect for dying, the only thing Yuriel hoped for was one thing.

To enter as even a low-ranking administrative official by taking first place.

If only that could happen, they would be guaranteed lodging and livelihood, so that was all she could rely on.

Now, two years later.

Yuriel stood before Vincent Cherbion, the administrative officer who had judged her as first place.

Standing proudly with the title of administrative assistant.

Considering that dozens of Mr. Vincent’s assistants, known for being difficult, had been cut, it was unusual for one person to have been an assistant for several years already.

Vincent recalled the day he first saw Yuriel before him.

This child appeared with a pale face as if she hadn’t even had a bowl of gruel somewhere, yet her eyes were still sparkling with enthusiasm.

Regardless, he didn’t have high expectations for Yuriel.

Dozens of people who had taken on his assistant position had been cut.

‘This child won’t be any different.’

That was already two years ago.

Vincent remembered his assistant’s name for the first time.

‘Yuriel.’

Now that he thought about it, it was a name that didn’t suit a commoner at all.

If this child had been born into even some insignificant noble family, she might have caught the emperor’s eye and succeeded, she was that clever.

Originally, such issues tend to make the person involved more bitter.

Even seeing men with no skills but only age advancing ahead of her, this child’s face remained expressionless.

As if such things were irrelevant to her.

She looked satisfied just to be able to work as an administrative assistant.

Vincent stopped trying to gauge his assistant’s circumstances and got to the point.

“There’s something I’d like you to do.”

“Please tell me.”

“I’m planning to request a tracking device from the magic tower… I want to entrust you with the proposal.”

Yuriel blinked for a moment before bowing her head.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s the work you consider most important, I’m not sure if I should take it on…”

Yuriel trailed off.

She knew all too well why Mr. Vincent wanted to request a tracking device.

He devoted all his time outside of work hours to searching for his wife.

His missing wife.

Some said she was his long-time girlfriend, others his fiancée.

Her predecessor had said that losing his wife was a big reason why he became prickly.

Yuriel now agreed with that as well.

He was a man who had bet his entire life on finding her.