MLHBMH 07

Chapter 7

Lily ran and ran, her breath burning in her chest, her legs trembling so hard she could barely stay upright—but she couldn’t stop.

She wanted to get as far away from Baron Benjamin’s estate as possible. She wanted to escape from him—from Fredrik. But ironically, even as she fled from him, her mind was filled only with thoughts of Fredrik.

More precisely, with the cruel words he had thrown at her. She thought she might forget them if she tired herself out, but no—those words only grew sharper in her memory, tormenting her all over again.

“To think it was Fredrik who sent the carriage away from the bookstore…”

That alone was shocking enough, but the threat he made afterward—that he would send her mother to the Whisen Kingdom if she didn’t obey—didn’t sound like an empty bluff. It terrified her even more.

Her loosened, light-brown hair whipped wildly in the night breeze. Every breath she took stung her throat as if someone were scratching at it with claws.

“Ahh!”

Running blindly without direction, Lily’s legs finally gave out beneath her, and she fell hard to the ground.

Her palms, elbows, and knees burned where they scraped the rough dirt. Wincing, Lily brushed the dirt away and examined her hands. Thankfully, the wounds weren’t deep. She wanted to check her knees too, but she couldn’t lift her skirt in the middle of the street, so she just got to her feet again.

Her knees throbbed, her legs shook too much to walk properly, so she leaned against a wall for support.

Her body ached, but at least she was far from that hellish place. She could finally breathe again. If she had stayed there any longer, she might have broken down completely.

Looking up at the dark, starless night sky, Lily murmured softly,

“…I wish I could just run away forever.”

But that was impossible. The laws of the Empire wouldn’t allow it—and more importantly, her mother wouldn’t survive without her.

Her mother’s body and mind were both fragile. Lily was the only one who could care for her. She could never abandon her one and only family.

“Still… I’m not going back tonight.”

It was all she had left—her final shred of pride. If she let even that be trampled, she knew she’d fall into a despair she could never escape from. So Lily made up her mind.

But then another problem struck her.

“Where… should I go?”

She had nowhere to turn. Everyone who had once been kind to her turned their backs after her father’s death.

And since marrying Fredrik, she’d only kept shallow acquaintances—no one close enough to ask for shelter in the middle of the night.

The realization that she had nowhere outside of Fredrik’s world to go sank her spirits further, but she steadied herself.

“I’ll just stay at an inn.”

She didn’t have much left after renting a public carriage, but enough for a cheap room at least.

“Yes, that’s what I’ll do.”

Having decided, Lily straightened up and started walking again with renewed determination.

The Duchess of Maximilian had organized a small welcome party for her second son—a hero returning from battle.

“Small” was hardly the right word. The celebration was grand and glittering. Not only close family friends but also ambitious nobles hoping to curry favor filled the hall.

“To think you defeated the infamous Salaman tribe! We knew the young lord was skilled with a sword, but this is beyond belief. Remarkable!”

“Indeed, to have someone like you in the Empire is a true blessing, my lord.”

The nobles’ mouths ran dry with flattery. The Duke and Duchess smiled proudly, but the man of honor—Herald Maximilian—looked anything but pleased.

He found the whole thing exhausting. His tie felt like it was strangling him, his collar far too tight.

“When will this end…” he muttered.

His older brother, Hamilton Maximilian, laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

“What can you do? Parents live for moments like this. You’ve had four years to do as you pleased. For now, just let them have their joy. It’s the least a son can do.”

“I know.”

And he did. That was why he’d come at all. If he didn’t understand, or chose to ignore it, he would’ve run far away instead of attending.

Still, he wished this tedious celebration would end before his patience ran out.

He was sipping champagne with a weary expression when he spotted Dillon hovering awkwardly by the entrance.

Herald’s eyes lit up.

He had ordered Dillon to investigate who had placed a tail on Lily. Herald wanted to do it himself, but he couldn’t—his presence was required at this stupid party.

If Dillon was here now, it meant he’d found something.

Herald immediately crossed the room to meet him. Dillon noticed him and bowed respectfully.

“Leaving so soon, Captain? Don’t tell me you’re running away again?”

The question was so absurd that Herald laughed under his breath and folded his arms.

“Not yet. And if you didn’t want me to leave, you could’ve gone in yourself. Why were you pacing around like a dog that needs to pee?”

“I wasn’t—well, maybe a little…” Dillon scratched his head awkwardly. “Besides, I’m a commoner. How could I possibly enter that hall?”

“So?”

“…Sir?”

“Since when was there a law barring commoners from a ballroom? That’s news to me.”

Herald tilted his head with genuine confusion, making Dillon chuckle.

Right. That’s the Captain I know.

That attitude—his lack of care for status or rank—was exactly why men like Dillon followed him so loyally.

“Anyway, I found out who ordered the tail.”

“Hold on.”

Too many ears around. Herald led him out onto the terrace before speaking again.

“Now—tell me. Who ordered Lady Benjamin to be followed?”

From the moment he learned Lily was being watched, Herald suspected the Second Prince.

Not that the prince himself had done it—more likely one of his noble supporters. So which one had it been?

“The one who ordered the tail,” Dillon said carefully, “was none other than her husband—Baron Fredrik Benjamin.”

Herald blinked, eyebrows lifting.

“…Who did you say?”

“Her husband, my lord. Baron Fredrik Benjamin.”

Herald had been expecting one of the prince’s allies, not that.

Her own husband?

He exhaled heavily, gazing down at the shadowed garden.

Dillon studied his face and asked softly, “Shall I find out why the baron had her followed?”

“No need.”

Herald didn’t care about the Baron’s domestic affairs. What he did care about was why the Second Prince was prying into that household.

He wasn’t interested in the Benjamins’ marital issues—he didn’t even want to be.

As it was, being forced to attend this celebration had already soured his mood. Now, his theory falling apart only made him more irritable.

“Anyway, Captain, you should get back inside. The guest of honor shouldn’t disappear for too long.”

Dillon, oblivious to the danger, tried to urge him along. Herald smirked faintly and placed a hand on the terrace railing.

“Dillon.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Tell my parents I’m grateful.”

“…Wait—what?”

Before Dillon could react, Herald swung himself over the railing and jumped.

“Captain!”

Panicking, Dillon rushed to the edge and looked down—only to see Herald land safely in the thick shrubs below. Herald waved casually, then disappeared into the night.

The place Lily ended up was a shabby shopping street, far from the noble district.

Even at this late hour, it was busy with commoners going about their business.

She picked the smallest, cheapest-looking inn she could find. To her relief, she had just enough to pay for a room.

It was a miserable little space—just a creaky bed and a yellowed blanket that smelled faintly of mold—but to Lily, it felt warmer and safer than her luxurious room in the Benjamin estate.

“…I’m hungry.”

Now that her panic had faded, her stomach finally made itself known. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday—not breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

She counted her remaining coins. One shilling. Enough for a bowl of vegetable stew, and that was it.

It was little more than boiled onions and potatoes, but to her empty stomach, it tasted like heaven.

As she ate, she heard a soft clink—the sound of someone setting down a mug beside her.

“Don’t know what’s got you so down, miss, but have a drink. It’ll lift your spirits.”

The innkeeper smiled warmly at her.

“They say a drink helps when you’re feeling low.”

Lily was twenty-two. It had been two years since her coming-of-age ceremony—but she’d only ever drunk once in her life.

That time, it was wine, and she had spat it out immediately, unable to stand the bitter taste.

Her parents had laughed, ruffling her hair, saying, “Our daughter’s still just a child.”

The memory brought a sudden ache to her chest. She’d never see those faces again.

Swallowing the pain, Lily stared at the frothy beer mug in front of her.

She’d heard it before—that drinking could make you feel better when you were sad. Maybe there was some truth to it.

Curiosity stirred. And more than that—she wanted, desperately, to forget Fredrik’s voice, his words, his cruelty.

…Maybe I’ll try it.

After a long moment of staring at the mug, Lily slowly reached out her hand.