Chapter 25

Third Person’s POV

In the city of Ravaryn, the heavy doors of the Ducaine mansion shook as Marcus’s fury thundered through the halls.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S NOT WITH YOU?!” Marcus roared.

His men dropped to their knees at once, bodies trembling. The leader swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak.

“W-we lost her trail, sir. Ever since the encounter with the royal guards at the charity event… there haven’t been any leads. No sightings. Nothing.”

Marcus’s face twisted in rage.

“FUCK!” he bellowed. “YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF USELESS PIECES OF SHIT!“

He grabbed a porcelain vase from a nearby table and hurled it across the room. It shattered violently against the wall, shards scattering across the marble floor. None of the men dared to move.

The leader hesitated, fear written all over his face, but he spoke again.

“Sir… the only explanation we can think of is that she’s inside the palace.”

Marcus froze.

“The palace?” he repeated slowly.

Marcus frowned with the thought. That couldn’t be right. The current Queen would never allow that woman within palace walls.

But the leader continued, desperation creeping into his voice.

“Remember? We caught her just outside the palace grounds. That can’t be a coincidence. Maybe… maybe she really is a noblewoman—just like we suspected when we took her.”

Silence swallowed the hall.

Marcus’s jaw slowly tightened. He had known the truth all along. From the very moment his men had dragged Miu before him, recognition had struck like a blade to the throat. That face—those eyes—he knew them too well.

The blood of the man who had killed his mother.

Marcus had etched every member of the Forger family into his memory, memorized them with the devotion of someone who lived only for vengeance. He had sworn that one day, he would repay the debt of blood owed to his mother.

From the very beginning, he had known who Miu truly was.

Prince Matthew.

And that was precisely why he had taken such pleasure in her suffering. Why every act of cruelty had felt deliberate, intimate. He wanted her life to become a living hell—slow, unending, and inescapable.

Yet he had kept the truth to himself.

For reasons even he did not fully understand, Marcus had wanted her suffering to belong to him alone.

If Miu truly was inside the palace, then it could only mean one thing—the Queen and the royal court were completely unaware of who they had just allowed past their gates.

A Forger.

Alive. Walking freely within the palace walls.

The Silverveins would not be pleased to learn that a remnant of the Forger bloodline still existed under their very roof. The thought sent a twisted thrill through Marcus.

A low laugh escaped his throat, then another, until it spiraled into something unhinged, echoing through the empty hall.

“This… is going to be… so fun,” he muttered, eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation.

—

Miu’s POV

“It’s getting late…”

My hand drifted toward the window as I watched the rain pour endlessly from the darkened sky. It hadn’t eased since morning—if anything, it only grew heavier.

“Are you worried?”

Daliah’s voice startled me. I hadn’t even heard her enter. When I turned, I saw the tray in her hands—a warm meal prepared just for me.

“Of course,” I said quietly. “The city might flood if the river overflows. And…” My gaze dropped to the food she’d brought. “I’m sure none of them have eaten a proper meal yet.”

Lena…

She hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast before leaving. And now it was well past afternoon. The rain was falling harder by the minute—I could almost picture her out there, working through the storm without rest, without food.

Mud clinging to her clothes. Rain soaking through her hair. Still pushing herself forward.

And yet… here I am.

“I’m pathetic…” I muttered under my breath.

“Pardon?” Daliah asked, turning to me.

“Everyone is out there,” I said quietly. “Even the Queen is working in the storm. And I’m here—warm, dry, eating a proper meal.” My gaze dropped as images of Tungsten filled my mind. Flooded streets. Exhausted faces. Relentless rain.

“I’m pathetic because I can’t do anything to help when things are this critical,” I continued.

Silence followed.

I looked up—and found Daliah staring at me. Not with pity, but with something heavier, as if a thousand thoughts were weighing behind her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking this for a while now,” she finally said, her voice calm but firm, her gaze never leaving mine.

“You truly are… an odd one, my lady.”

Her expression softened.

“I told you, there’s no need for such—” I started, waving my hand dismissively.

“But you are a noblewoman,” Daliah interrupted gently. “The Queen told me so herself.”

“What?”

My breath caught. Lena told her that?

What else… did she tell her?

“To be honest, I’ve served quite a few nobles—from different households, and as guests,” Daliah said, brushing past my reaction and continuing on.

“But you’re the first who’s always looking for something to do.” She tilted her head slightly, as if searching for the right words.

“What I mean is… people like you don’t need to do anything. You can leave the work to servants like us.” She shrugged, as though it were the simplest truth in the world.

“But you, my lady…” Her voice softened. “You clean. You take the initiative in handing out relief supplies—and you check on them yourself. You even ask about my day,” she added, a faint smile touching her lips.

A warmer smile followed as she seemed to sink into her memories.

“This is the first time I’ve spoken with a noble while laughing. Most nobles don’t treat servants like me as people.” She paused, then chuckled lightly. “Well—except the Silverveins. They’re kind. Still reserved, like nobles usually are, but kind.”

She folded her hands neatly in front of her.

“Daliah…”

Her name barely left my mouth. I was still trying to take in everything she’d just said.

“And I can only say all this because it’s you, my lady,” Daliah said, her voice soft but firm, a small laugh escaping her as if she found her own words ridiculous. “Any other noble… would have stormed me out for daring to speak casually.”

I blinked. My chest tightened.

“My lady…” Her voice softened, tender now, like she was trying to reach something inside me. “No one will blame you for not being able to do the impossible. Just… take your time. Do what you can for now.”

Her smile appeared then, slow, warm, disarming. Her eyes seemed to vanish in the curve of her eyelids, leaving only a quiet, steady kindness that made my heart ache.

“Don’t get anxious. Alright?” Her words were gentle, yet they landed like a command I didn’t want to resist.

I froze, staring at her. Words failed me. I wanted to speak, to tell her something, but all I could feel was this strange, foreign warmth in my chest. A mix of relief, gratitude… and something else I didn’t yet understand.

“S-sure… Thank you, Daliah…” I finally managed, my voice trembling as if it weren’t entirely my own.

Her words echoed in my mind. Do what you can for now.

And somehow, the weight pressing on my chest felt… lighter. For the first time in a long while, maybe even since my life had gone so wrong, I felt like I could breathe again.