Chapter 4

A gray sky began to drizzle with fine rain.

The coachman, clearly annoyed by the sudden summons, opened the carriage door with barely a greeting to Ellie. Just as she lowered her head and stepped inside, she turned to look back at the mansion one last time.

The Crowde Estate stood as magnificent and splendid as ever.

Yet she had never once belonged there. She had existed there like mold growing on a wall—something unwanted, something that never fit.

The coachman’s impatient cough, an obvious signal for her to hurry up, snapped her out of her thoughts. She quickly climbed into the carriage.

As the estate slowly disappeared into the distance, Ellie carefully took a small folded note from inside her cloak and read it again.

Please visit the monastery on the upcoming Festival of Oris. Simple clothing would be best. We’ll need plenty of hands to prepare for the autumn harvest. Fortunately, it seems we can also receive assistance from Serapiano Monastery, just as you mentioned.

I’ll see you then.

—Bron

In case the letter fell into someone else’s hands, it had been written in deliberately vague terms.

But Ellie understood its true meaning perfectly.

Everything had already been arranged for her to seek refuge at Serapiano Monastery. She simply needed to come to the monastery dressed inconspicuously.

She carefully folded the note and tucked it back into her clothes.

On the very night her father informed her of the marriage, Eliana had written a letter to Bron, an apprentice monk at Helio Monastery, begging him to help her escape the Crowde family.

Whenever she volunteered at the monastery—her only opportunity to leave the estate—Bron would often tell her stories. One day, he had spoken about a place called Serapiano Monastery.

“Serapiano Monastery doesn’t turn anyone away. Its doors are open to anyone who needs help. Plenty of people live there while assisting with the monastery’s work, even if they aren’t monks.”

A monastery that welcomed anyone…

Seeing Eliana’s eyes brighten in a way that was unusual for her, Bron had smiled and told her that if she ever needed help, she only had to ask.

From that day onward, the thought that she might actually be able to leave the Crowde estate made her heart race.

For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to hope.

Perhaps she could leave behind the mansion filled with nothing but painful memories and begin a new life somewhere else.

She had planned to formally ask her father for permission the following spring, when the flowers bloomed.

But then, like a bolt from the blue, she was ordered to marry a duke she had never even seen—a man surrounded by horrifying rumors.

It was almost insulting to call it a political marriage.

There would not even be a wedding.

Everything would be concluded with nothing more than a single archaic marriage contract.

Eliana knew all too well what role awaited her after the deal was done.

She was to bear an heir for the ducal family.

And after producing that heir, she would spend the rest of her life growing old alone, just as she always had.

Or perhaps…

If she proved useless, they might simply cast her aside—or trade her away once again as payment in another bargain.

It hadn’t taken her long to decide to ask Bron for help.

I don’t want to escape this hell only to enter another one.

Never.

Inside the gently rocking carriage, she realized she had unconsciously clenched her fists.

Her palms had become slick with sweat from nervousness.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“We’re here. Please get down.”

The coachman’s gruff voice announced their arrival at Helio Monastery.

As always, he said he would wait with the carriage near the main gate before disappearing somewhere.

She often wondered how someone so lazy had managed to remain in service to the Crowde family.

Still…

Today, his indifference worked in her favor.

After meeting Bron, everything moved astonishingly quickly.

The moment they met, he handed her a document.

It was a letter of recommendation addressed to the abbot of Serapiano Monastery.

“If you take this with you, it’ll help.

In a little while, everyone will gather in the dining hall for supper. While they’re distracted, quietly slip out through the back gate and follow the path to the left.

A carriage will be waiting there.

It’ll take you to Alderon.”

Bron rapidly explained everything she needed to do.

Gone was the gentle, easygoing young man she had always known.

“Thank you, Bron. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay this…”

“Don’t worry.

We’ll see each other again soon.

You’ll have your chance then.”

He grinned brightly, waving for her to hurry.

Following his instructions, Eliana blended naturally into the crowd heading toward the dining hall before quietly slipping away toward the rear entrance.

Sure enough, an old carriage stood waiting where Bron had said it would.

She cautiously approached and greeted the heavily bearded driver.

Without replying, he merely jerked his head toward the carriage, signaling her to get in.

Thinking the rain would soon become much heavier, Eliana climbed aboard the carriage bound for Alderon.

As she reflected on everything that had happened over the past few days, Eliana still found it hard to believe she was sitting on the bed of a shabby inn in an unfamiliar town.

It hadn’t even taken a full day to escape the iron prison that had always seemed to surround the Crowde estate and reach Alderon.

After experiencing so many unimaginable events in such a short time, she felt dazed.

Restless thoughts and anxieties chased one another endlessly through her mind.

Then—

She heard voices outside the window.

Someone was whispering.

Although the window had been left open, the voices sounded far too close to be coming from outside.

Eliana rose from the bed and cautiously approached the window.

Just as she leaned forward to look outside—

A huge hand suddenly shot out of the darkness.

“Ah!”

Startled out of her wits, she stumbled backward and fell hard onto the wooden floor.

Another hand gripped the windowsill.

Then a large man wearing a black mask climbed through the window into the room.

“What the…

Why is she still awake?”

The chilling voice froze Eliana where she lay.

She could barely breathe.

A second man, much slimmer in build and also masked, slipped silently through the window.

“Hah.

How the hell did Pito screw this up?”

Pito.

That was the name of the man who had been downstairs with her only moments ago.

She had no idea what was happening.

But one thing was certain.

She had to get up and run.

Her body was stiff with terror, but she desperately forced herself to her feet and turned toward the door.

The larger man moved much faster.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and clamped a hand tightly over her mouth.

She struggled with all her strength, screaming as hard as she could.

But her cries were smothered beneath his thick palm.

Meanwhile, the slimmer man—the one who had cursed Pito—walked over while pulling a small vial from his pocket.

“There, there.

Don’t struggle.

Let’s make this easy, miss.”

He swiftly pulled the larger man’s hand away from her mouth and poured the liquid from the vial between her lips.

Eliana desperately tried not to swallow it.

But before she could spit it out, another hand sealed her mouth shut.

Within seconds, all the strength drained from her body.

Her eyelids grew unbearably heavy.

For a brief instant, she thought the man’s eyes and voice seemed strangely familiar.

Then her vision blurred…

And darkness swallowed everything.

Tristan Carlisle silently surveyed the drawing room with an expression devoid of emotion.

At first glance, the spacious room appeared modestly decorated.

But from the coffee table to the small candleholders hanging on the walls, every item was of the highest quality.

The room was filled with luxurious objects whose true value only connoisseurs would recognize.

It has an oddly contradictory atmosphere, he thought, finding it strangely irritating.

Just then, the master of the estate entered.

“Duke Carlisle.”

Marquis Crowde inclined his head slightly in greeting, his voice rough around the edges.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting.”

“Not at all.

If anything, I should apologize for imposing on you at such a late hour.”

Despite the polite exchange, neither noble looked particularly apologetic.

The marquis glanced at the clock.

It was nearly midnight.

When Gilbert had rushed into his study only moments earlier with an unmistakably tense expression, the marquis had assumed he was bringing news of Eliana.

Instead, the butler had spoken an entirely unexpected name.

“I thought you wouldn’t arrive until the day after tomorrow…

But even if your schedule had changed, I never imagined you would come calling at such an hour.”

The Marquis of Crowde studied the young duke before him.

His hair was as black as a winter night sky.

His eyes were a dark crimson, like the dried blood of a beast.

He bore such a striking resemblance to the previous Duke of Carlisle that one might have believed the former duke had returned from the dead.

Of course, the marquis had last met the previous duke over thirty years ago.

The man had been wearing a helmet then, leaving only those unforgettable red eyes in his memory.

And yet…

The aura they gave off was astonishingly similar.

“That was originally the plan.”

Tristan paused, looking down at the tea in his cup, long since gone cold.

Then he continued.

“It seems, however…”

“My future wife has no intention of quietly staying where she’s supposed to.”