“Could the White Fox Tribe have traveled this far? Those remaining in Terra Demorte are confined to a specific area. If they have ventured here, defying your orders, they seem to be inviting exile,” Serin said.
“It might not be them,” Kennard replied.
“Then who? Are you suggesting the White Fox Tribe might have crossed the border to come here?” Serin asked.
“Yes. The consistent nature of the tracks suggests they were wearing military boots. I have seen similar footwear before, near the forest by the castle,” Kennard confirmed.
Perhaps he had been mistaken in assuming they were merely crossing the border to provoke him. It seemed they had already ventured beyond Terra Demorte into another region.
“Unbelievable. But why would they clear the path after the landslide?” Serin asked, rubbing his temples.
“Serin,” Kennard said.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Serin replied, straightening up.
At Kennard’s low, calm command, Serin tensed.
“Send a letter to the capital to inquire if Hazel has arrived,” Kennard ordered.
Serin’s mouth parted in surprise.
“Are you suggesting Miss Hazel was kidnapped by the White Fox Tribe?” he asked.
“We cannot be certain. The carriage tracks undoubtedly led toward the capital. However, we cannot be sure if the carriage reached its destination or veered off somewhere in between. Verify this,” Kennard instructed.
“Understood, Your Grace,” Serin replied.
As far as Kennard was concerned, after what Hazel had done to Elena, her fate mattered little. He would much rather eliminate her himself.
Nevertheless, he could not ignore the possibility that she had been abducted by the White Fox Tribe. Allowing them to cross over from Terra Demorte was a grave matter, but daring to infiltrate deep into the Baruchella Empire’s territory was something he could never tolerate.
He would find them and make them pay the ultimate price.
And that price would be nothing less than their lives.
***
“Lady Elena, this is the study,” Cura announced, opening the door and stepping aside.
With Hazel gone, Elena felt a profound sense of emptiness, wondering how she had managed to fill her time before.
“The greenhouse is still a mess, so you might injure yourself if you go there. Perhaps you should read a book instead,” Cura suggested, unable to watch Elena wander aimlessly about her room and the halls.
As Elena stepped into the study, the scent of old paper and dust filled her nostrils.
A cool breeze wafted through the open windows, gently stirring the curtains. Bookshelves lined every wall, save for the door and the window overlooking the garden, with books stacked from the floor to the high ceiling.
In one corner of the study, an intricately carved desk and chair were arranged, while a single armchair sat before the fireplace. The plush, ornate carpet that covered the entire floor lent the room a distant, almost dreamlike quality.
Dust particles danced in the sunlight streaming through the window, making Elena feel as if she were dreaming.
“Are all of these books?” she asked.
“There are so many, aren’t there? Some of them were here when the White Fox Tribe owned the place, but most of these were brought by His Grace. According to my brother, His Grace finds it tedious to even reply to letters, but when it comes to reading, he never seems to tire of it,” Cura explained.
Elena ran her fingertips over the books nestled in the shelves, taking in the sight of the room. Some had thick leather covers with gold-embossed titles, while others appeared so fragile they seemed like they would crumble at the slightest touch.
She carefully inspected each title until one particular book caught her eye. She gently pulled it from the shelf.
