Chapter 42
“Fresh flowers! Beautiful flowers for sale!”
“Hot skewers! Try these freshly grilled skewers!”
The marketplace was filled with as many peddlers as customers, their cries loud enough to make ears ring.
Elisa, distracted by the noise, accidentally bumped into a passing boy with a sharp thud.
“Ah!”
Luckily, she didn’t fall—but the boy’s armful of newspapers scattered across the ground.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
The boy bowed again and again, scrambling to gather the papers.
The Hero Who Saved the Alliance—Now Rescues the Princess.
Elisa bent down to help him, but froze when her eyes caught the bold headline.
Her heart plummeted with a heavy thud, and the surrounding noise seemed to vanish in an instant.
Snatching up the paper, she skimmed the article in a panic.
Baron Ethan Esteban saves Princess Camilla, falls from a cliff.
His whereabouts remain unknown, though the likelihood of his survival is slim…
Dead.
That single word seared itself into her vision.
Elisa’s face drained of color, her fingers clamping down on the newspaper with desperate force.
“No…”
The word slipped from her lips like a broken prayer.
“No. No. No.”
Ethan was strong.
So strong.
There was no way he could die so easily, so pointlessly.
She told herself the newspaper was wrong, that such an article couldn’t be trusted—but her eyes refused to move away.
As if mocking her denial, the letters blurred on the page.
And yet, that one word—dead—remained brutally sharp.
Elisa bit her lip until blood welled, crumpling the newspaper in her hand.
“Ah! The paper…!”
The boy let out a startled cry.
Elisa blinked, finally coming back to herself, and glanced down at the ruined newspaper. It was beyond saving now.
“I’m sorry. I’ll buy this one. How much is it?”
She reached into her pocket, fumbling for coins—then froze, a sudden chill running through her chest. Her eyes darted around.
“…Noah?”
Noah was nowhere to be found.
***
Bored of waiting while his mother stared so intently at the paper, Noah yawned and let his gaze wander.
The street was filled with marvels—peddlers selling vibrant flowers, the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling skewers, stalls displaying all manner of strange curiosities.
To a child’s eyes, everything was dazzling, everything was fun.
After wandering about for some time, Noah’s eyes suddenly caught sight of a large, magnificent dog—its sleek form resembling a wolf.
A doggy.
A doggy!
His lips moved silently as he stretched his small hand toward the animal’s swishing tail.
The tail wagged enticingly, always just out of reach, making the child all the more desperate to catch it.
His eagerness to grab it made him forget entirely the one rule he was never supposed to break: never stray from his mother’s side.
And so, he chased after the dog.
His little legs pumped with all their might, but no matter how hard he ran, the dog was always just a little too far.
Just a bit more, just a little more.
Noah reached out with all his strength for the flicking tail.
Thud.
But instead of catching it, he tripped and fell hard, landing with a noisy crash.
Blood welled from the scrape on his elbow, but the child didn’t cry.
He pushed himself stubbornly back to his feet.
“Little one, are you all right?”
A kind-faced middle-aged woman brushed the dust from his clothes and dabbed at his wound with a handkerchief.
“There now. All better. But tell me, dear—are you alone? Where’s your mother?”
Mother.
It was only then Noah realized—his mother wasn’t there.
His wide gray eyes grew frantic as they darted around, searching.
No matter how desperately he looked, she was nowhere to be found.
The crushing awareness that he was alone in this unfamiliar place filled his eyes with tears.
“Oh, heavens… You must have lost your mother.”
The woman, quick to grasp the situation, gently asked his name and where he’d last seen her.
My name… it’s…
No. Don’t.
Just as Noah opened his mouth, a familiar voice whispered sharply in his ear.
You mustn’t.
Don’t let them know.
Don’t. Don’t.
It was his mother’s voice—strained, pained, echoing from deep within his memory.
Hearing it, Noah clamped his lips shut.
Hide the child.
Another voice followed, cold and insistent.
No one must know you bore that man’s child.
Hide him, no matter what.
Tell no one.
No. No. No.
Noah pressed his hands over his ears, but the voices did not stop.
They grew sharper, clearer, stabbing into him.
“U-ugh!”
“What’s wrong? Are you—oh, dear! Child!”
Noah shoved away the woman’s hand from his shoulder and bolted forward.
Still, the voices rang in his ears.
Words he had been hearing for as long as he could remember.
It was the very reason he could not bring himself to speak.
I hate it. I don’t want to hear it.
I don’t want to.
Shaking his head violently, tears scattering, Noah stumbled over his own feet.
His small body skidded painfully across the rough ground.
The sting was far worse than before, so sharp it stole his breath.
He had to find his mother, but the pain kept him from standing.
Tears streamed hot down his dust-covered cheeks.
When at last he managed to push himself upright, a hand reached down—gentle yet firm—lifting him up.
The hand brushed the dirt from his clothes with absentminded precision.
“You all right?”
The voice—he had heard it somewhere before.
Noah raised his tear-streaked face.
His vision blurred, the man’s features unclear.
But one thing stood out, bright and undeniable.
The same gray eyes.
Just like his own.
***
“Noah! Noah!”
Elisa tore through the streets, not even noticing when one of her shoes slipped off.
She screamed her child’s name until her voice turned raw and hoarse.
Yes, the news of Ethan’s presumed death had been a brutal shock—but how could she have been so lost in despair that she failed to realize her child was gone?
The thought of it made her want to bite her own tongue and die.
The mere possibility that Noah, too, might be lost—it was enough to drive her mad.
Dear God, please… Please, don’t take Noah from me too. Please…
She prayed with a desperation deeper than even the nights four years ago, when she had begged for Ethan to return.
And perhaps heaven heard her, for at last a small, familiar silhouette appeared in her sight.
“Noah!”
The child she had been searching for, at last. Elisa ran with all her strength, so fast her other shoe nearly flew off, and pulled him into her arms.
Only when she felt the warmth of his little body against her chest did she remember how to breathe.
“You’re safe… Noah, are you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine. I fell and scraped myself a little, but… nothing serious.”
She frantically checked him over, hands trembling—when suddenly, a voice rang above her head.
A voice she knew.
She froze.
Lifting her gaze as though spellbound, Elisa saw them—gray eyes.
The very same shade as Noah’s.
noah talked?