“Come out.”

The guard who opened the door beckoned. Miela flinched at his indifferent attitude.

Though nearly two weeks had passed since her imprisonment in the palace dungeon, she still couldn’t get used to being treated coldly. She was always accustomed to receiving the favor and admiration of those around her as a priestess.

Miela was dragged outside by the guard.

Today was the day of her trial. However, she still found her current reality bewildering and surreal.

She had only wanted to save the man she loved from an unjust marriage, yet that had become a crime.

‘The observers will surely sympathize with me.’

There are always observers present at trials. Though they have no real authority over the verdict, they sometimes appeal to the judge if they feel the judgment is unjust.

She had lived her whole life as a priestess, serving others, and had gained the favor of many people in the process.

Miela entered the courtroom, expecting the observers to form public opinion in her favor. But…

Contrary to her expectations, the gazes pouring down on her were unbearably cold.

Herdin watched Miela’s unusually pale face amidst those gazes with indifferent eyes.

At last, the trial began.

“The accused, Miela Elias, abused her position to falsely accuse an innocent civilian of being a dark mage, and incited knights from another country to provoke a war between the two nations.”

The word ‘war’ caused a stir among the observers. The judge continued with the verdict.

“As the crime of creating innocent victims is extremely grave, a fitting punishment shall be imposed. You are sentenced to hard labor in the border region of the southern Santes province.”

Santes was a region bordering the southern kingdom of Labyrinth, an area largely abandoned by the kingdom where bandits frequently appeared and conflicts large and small never ceased.

But for Miela, more terrifying than that punishment were the gazes of the observers upon her.

“My goodness, war… Even blinded by ambition, how could a priestess do such a thing?”

“Maybe honor wasn’t her goal. They say she aided the Pope who was a dark mage.”

The observers mentioned the nature of priests whose value and fame rise when war breaks out, or cast suspicion on Miela’s intentions by linking her to Gerard.

Just like when they had inflated rumors about Blair.

Standing amidst the cold gazes pouring down, she felt as if she had become a great villain. It was suffocating.

“Why…?”

At first, unable to accept the situation, only questions arose. Then came anger.

‘How much have I served you all.’

Why.

Why are you looking at me with those eyes?

For her, who believed she had lived her whole life as a good child and a kind person, that moment of falling into the role of villain was harder to bear than any punishment.

Finding it difficult to endure the criticism and speculation directed at her, Miela turned that arrow outward.

“Shut up!”

Miela covered her ears and shouted in a rage.

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m not a villain!”

But the more she did so, the greater the commotion grew. At that, Miela lashed out spasmodically.

“How much effort have I put in to help you who were not chosen by God? How many people have I saved until now! Just because a few foreign knights died, does all the good I’ve done disappear?”

It was a frenzied appearance utterly unlike her previously angelic demeanor. Her golden eyes were endlessly crumbling as she screamed.

It was a fitting end for a woman who had committed evil deeds while immersed in a sense of justice.

At last, the palace knights approached and subdued her.

Herdin, who had been watching Miela’s downfall with dry eyes, stood up and left the courtroom.

* * *

The carriage waiting in front of the courthouse immediately departed with him aboard. Herdin leaned back in the carriage, gazing at the passing scenery outside the window.

His eyes fell upon the clock tower. The same clock tower he had climbed with Blair last spring.

The area in front of the clock tower, once full of blooming cherry blossoms, street vendors, and people out for flower viewing, was now desolate.

Bare trees with fallen leaves and a biting wind.

Before he knew it, autumn had passed and winter was fast approaching.

The season when you came to my side.

Recalling that fact, Herdin’s eyes grew distant like a fathomless winter lake. Just then, a clothing store caught his eye.

More precisely, the baby clothes displayed in the window.

Herdin stared at them blankly until they disappeared from view, then suddenly knocked on the carriage wall.

After ordering the coachman who stopped the carriage to wait, he got out and headed for the clothing store.

The store specialized in selling only baby clothes, a small-scale shop.

As he entered, the gentle sound of a music box greeted him. The owner seemed to have stepped out briefly.

Inside were displayed adorable clothes no bigger than the palm of his hand.

As Herdin scanned the store, he spotted something tiny about the size of a finger in one corner. At first squinting his eyes, unable to tell what it was, he finally realized its identity.

It was a baby sock.

‘So even those tiny feet are called feet and wear socks.’

It was so small that it was hard to believe something could wear it.

Asiel was like that too.

So small that it was amazing he could breathe and move.

Yet his stamina was so impressive that he would exhaust Blair who played with him.

Recalling Blair and Asiel from his past life that he had secretly watched, he remembered the movement he had felt on that final night. The vivid motion transmitted through his hand still lingered like an afterimage.

How lovely would that child soon to be born be.

But it was a paternal affection not permitted to him.

As Herdin stood there, unable to put down or buy the baby sock, a woman’s voice came from behind him.

“Is it a girl? Or a boy? If you tell me how many months along, I can help you choose colors and sizes.”

The employee showed him several socks in different colors and sizes while explaining.

Listening silently to the explanation, Herdin finally put down the baby sock he had been holding.

It was all futile.

* * *

“Why did you buy this?”

Luth asked, discovering the baby sock placed on Herdin’s desk.

Herdin, who had been staring at it as if unaware he had put it there himself, quietly replied.

“Send it to Ikaro.”

“I think she’ll feel burdened…”

“Say you bought it.”

We’re not even close to the former madam.

Those words rose to the tip of Luth’s tongue, but having observed his situation most closely, he swallowed them, guessing Herdin’s feelings to some extent.

Just as Herdin was about to light a cigar, there was a knock at the door.

“Your Excellency, the elders have come to see you…”

It was a servant’s voice. Hearing the news he delivered, Luth sighed while gauging Herdin’s reaction.

‘Again.’

News that Blair and Herdin would divorce had already spread throughout the domain. It was obvious what they wanted to say at this point.

Considering they came as soon as Mason took a day off, he must have been quietly handling things until now.

Herdin exhaled smoke while gazing at the door with cold eyes and answered.

“Tell them all to get lost.”

“…Pardon?”

The servant waiting outside for his answer seemed considerably flustered.

Recalling what had happened between the elders and Herdin when Blair disappeared from the mansion, Luth volunteered to mediate.

“Um, I’ll go take care of it.”

Luth hurriedly left the office, worried Herdin might go to meet the elders himself.

Herdin, watching the closed door, turned his gaze to the window.

He could see the desolate winter garden. The path Blair used to take, hurrying to him after finishing her consultation with Agnes.

Unconsciously recalling that memory, Herdin chuckled and leaned his head against the glass.

He was simply tired of it all.

* * *

Time passed, seemingly slow yet fast.

He still couldn’t sleep. It was already past midnight by at least three hours, yet he remained awake.

It had been an ongoing symptom since Blair left.

In the end, Herdin had no choice but to drink again today. But even as intoxication set in, sleep did not come.

Giving up on sleeping at that point, Herdin rose from his seat. If the light was on in his office, Mason would come looking for him.

With steps slowed by intoxication, he arrived not at his room, but at Blair’s room next door.

Laughing bitterly at himself for habitually seeking a room without its owner, Herdin soon wiped the smile from his face and entered.

Everything inside was exactly as it had been when Blair stayed there. Except for the fact that she, the room’s owner, was no longer present.

Unless his permission was given, this room would likely remain unchanged from its current state forever.

Touching the furniture that had felt her touch with his fingertips, he entered the bedroom. It was the place where her traces and scent still lingered most strongly in this mansion.

With every inhalation, her scent piercing his lungs was agonizing.

As he staggered to lie on the bed, he knocked something off the nightstand. A sharp shattering sound broke the winter night’s silence.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Herdin picked it up.

It was the drawing by the street artist he had bought for Blair beneath the clock tower on that spring day when cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

‘I think I’ll remember today every time I look at this picture.’

I recall your face smiling happily at this palm-sized drawing. At the same time, I also remember how you could hardly leave the bed in your past life.

A laugh that sounded like a sob escaped.

“…You beast.”

You who wanted so badly to see the outside world.

For that brief moment, you were so happy just to see the flowers and climb the clock tower, as if you had gained the whole world.

I should have done more things together with you. I should have shown you a wider world.

I confined you to this bedroom.

…No, I compelled your emotions of loving me to confine yourself.

Herdin’s expression twisted in agony as he belatedly realized this fact. He couldn’t bear how horrified he was at himself for hurting her in that way.

At that moment, the broken glass of the frame hidden behind the picture dug into his palm.

Staring blankly at the falling drops of blood, Herdin drove the glass shard he was gripping even deeper.

Only then did drowsiness finally wash over him.