Livia gently closed the door behind her. She looked at Emma one last time but said nothing more. She understood now—sometimes you can keep someone close, yet still lose their heart. Emma had already made her decision. No matter how calm her words seemed, the intent to leave had long since broken through the surface.
Livia turned and walked away.
The moment the door clicked shut, Emma stood silently by the window, watching Livia's figure disappear at the end of the corridor. Then, she exhaled—long and slow.
Without a trace of hesitation, she turned back into the room and began packing swiftly. Her movements were precise, yet quiet and gentle, as if afraid of disturbing the unspoken emotions lingering in the air. She placed her concealed dagger, a small vial of medicine, a well-worn, creased map, and a few items of clothing into her pack one by one.
This was not an escape.
Emma knew herself too well to call it that. She wasn't someone driven by fear. If threats alone could move her, she wouldn't have survived the past ten years. But now, more than ever, she understood—that man, the one she once called Master, Jim—once he sensed her presence, he would use every means to drag her back into the abyss.
And she couldn't take that risk. Especially not if it meant putting Livia in danger for her sake.
On the desk, a folded letter lay quietly, her handwriting poised and unwavering. She didn't pour her emotions into it—just used the plainest, clearest words to explain her choice to leave:
Livia,
I know you didn't want me to leave without telling you.
But I also know that if I said this to your face, you would try everything to stop me.
You're the person I trust most in this world—my only true attachment—and precisely because of that, I can't drag you into this danger with me.
He's still out there.
He remembers me.
He recognized the mark.
I can't stay with you and risk him finding the trail.
Don't come looking for me.
If the time comes, I'll appear on my own.
Take care of yourself. And keep your guard up around Jim.
He's… not someone you can deal with head-on. Avoid direct conflict if you can.
—Emma
With the letter written, she never looked back. Taking advantage of the deep night, she slipped quietly out of the castle.
She had no fixed destination. But she knew one thing—only by distancing herself could she truly see the situation clearly.
When the time was right, she would return.
Not as Livia's personal guard,
But as a blade honed in the dark, ready to strike true.
—
Before dawn, Livia awoke.
Restless and unable to sleep, she felt a gnawing sense of unease she couldn't explain. She quickly dressed and hurried, half-running, to Emma's room.
The door was slightly ajar. It opened with a push.
No one inside.
The bed was neatly made. A folded letter sat on the desk, the breeze lifting one corner of the page despite the paperweight pinning it down. Livia stood frozen for a moment, as if she had expected this all along, but still couldn't fully accept it.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the letter. After reading it, she slowly sat down, eyes red, but no tears fell.
She didn't call for anyone.
She didn't alert the servants.
She just sat quietly for a while.
Emma was gone.
She hadn't looked back.
But she had left behind her trust—and that was enough.
Livia rose, folded the letter, and stepped out of the room.
At the end of the corridor, Elias was approaching. He saw the redness in her eyes and frowned.
"What happened?"
Livia paused, took a deep breath, and said, "She… left."
Elias immediately knew who she meant. His expression tightened.
"Why?"
"She recognized the man I met in the cave," Livia said quietly, holding back her emotions. "She said… he's terrifying."
Elias's gaze darkened, as if memories stirred—or alarms were ringing.
But Livia simply looked up at the brightening sky, a faint ache spreading in her chest. An emptiness, quiet but firm.
Still, she knew—Emma hadn't given up.
She had only chosen a different, far more dangerous path.
Livia believed they would meet again.
And she prayed that when they did—it would still be among the living.