When news of Louisa's disappearance reached King Arxen… he truly lost his mind.

He roared in the throne room, eyes blazing with fury:

"Even if you're buried underground… I'll drag you out, dead or alive. You will return to me, my beautiful doll… even if the sky itself has to pull me by the hand!"

Without hesitation, he ordered a fabricated story to be spread: that Louisa was nothing but a cunning spy who seduced him, stole royal documents, and fled.

A huge monetary reward was announced for anyone who could find her, accompanied by a detailed sketch of her face.

The news swept across the kingdom like wildfire, reaching even the neighboring lands.

The king didn’t care about his own reputation — his obsession with retrieving his stolen doll outweighed everything.

...

Elsewhere, after a long and exhausting journey through mountains and valleys, Fantine’s private driver dropped her off in front of a remote countryside house.

He pointed to the house with a hushed voice:

"This is the place."

She reached out to hand him the fare, but he politely declined.

She simply nodded in gratitude and thanked him, then watched him leave, taking with him her exhaustion, her fear, and the growing life inside her.

Her steps toward the door were heavy, hesitant... anxious.

She hadn’t seen her parents in years, not since she had vanished into the night, leaving everything behind.

She knocked with a trembling hand, and as soon as the door opened, her mother quickly pulled her inside and shut the door, her eyes filled with urgency and worry.

"Mother!"

She couldn’t say more — she collapsed into her mother’s arms, crying, falling to her knees.

Her mother held her tightly, sobbing along with her.

Her father rushed from inside — that gentle man with kind eyes — and wrapped his arms around his broken little girl who had become a quiet, sorrowful woman.

He whispered as he held her:

"I should have protected you… Forgive me."

But she shook her head, placing her hand on his chest, and said in a choked voice:

"No, Father… it wasn’t anyone’s fault. This was just my fate."

...

Months passed in cautious silence.

And on a rainy evening, with the help of only her mother, Louisa gave birth to her baby girl.

It was a difficult birth, full of unbearable pain and muffled screams to avoid discovery.

When the baby opened her eyes for the first time, it was as if an angel had descended from the heavens.

She named her “Irene,” after the rare iris flower — the "Eirene" — she used to love in her old village.

The child grew up in the arms of her grandparents and her mother, surrounded by the scent of firewood, rain, and buried fear.

She loved them dearly and used to compare her grandfather to the mountains, her grandmother to the sun… and her mother — her silent world.

But as the years passed, Louisa’s mental state began to gradually deteriorate.

Anxiety, nightmares, and the fear of being found slowly ate her from within.

She rarely left her room, didn’t laugh, barely ate, and sometimes… hit Irene without reason — especially when she suffered from a breakdown, or when Irene asked to go outside like other children.

And as Irene grew older, Louisa noticed more and more how much the girl resembled her mother.

Terrified for her safety, Louisa once tried to scratch her daughter’s face with her nails — only to be stopped by the grandmother in time.

Despite their grief and helplessness, the grandparents always tried to comfort Irene.

And despite everything… Louisa, whenever she regained awareness, would apologize to Irene each time — crying, holding her, whispering:

"I'm sorry… You are not the reason. You’re the only light I have left."

...

On the other side of the kingdom, Fantine was still keeping her promise.

She split her monthly salary between two households: her divorced daughter and her two granddaughters, and Louisa's home.

Her daughter, named Rosentine, had started to feel uneasy.

The money she received was decreasing year after year, even as her needs grew.

She asked her mother many times, but Fantine always replied in a steady tone:

"This is all I can send."

But doubt began to grow in Rosentine’s heart.

One day, she decided to track the financial transfers.

She checked the mail, thinking someone might be stealing it — but what she discovered was far beyond her imagination.

She found transfers sent by her mother Fantine to another home — not theirs — but one very close by.

Curiosity led her there.

She knocked carefully. The door opened slightly, and an elderly woman peered through with one cautious eye.

"Who are you?" the woman asked suspiciously.

Rosentine replied:

"I'm Fantine’s daughter… the woman who sends you money."

The woman’s eyes widened, and she opened the door fully, welcoming her in with joy.

She seated her on a modest couch and offered her tea.

Then, a small girl came from the other room and sat beside Rosentine, staring up at her with joy and curiosity.

It was Irene… and her face looked oddly familiar to Rosentine — like something from a distant reflection in memory.

Louisa’s mother thanked Rosentine for her mother’s kindness and praised her generosity, revealing nothing else.

Rosentine didn’t fully understand who these people were, or what was happening… but a strange feeling crept into her chest.

...

On a quiet morning, with the scent of fresh bread wafting through the rural home, Louisa’s mother stood in the kitchen preparing tea, while Rosentine quietly studied the walls.

The simplicity of the place didn’t stop her from sensing something strange — like a secret hidden in the shadows.

Irene played in the corner, giggling shyly whenever she glanced toward the guest, only to quickly avert her eyes.

But then… the moment no one expected happened.

The door to the inner room flung open — Louisa emerged!

She froze when she saw the strangers, her eyes locking directly onto Rosentine’s face.

Then, in a shaky voice, she asked:

"Who… who are you?"

Louisa’s mother quickly stood up and said:

"This… this is Fantine’s daughter."

Louisa stiffened and stepped back. (Fantine?! She never told me… that she had told her daughter about me!)

At that moment, Rosentine was staring wide-eyed at Louisa.

The woman's features slammed into her memory like a slap.

(No… it can’t be… she looks just like…)

Old images from magazines flashed through her mind — a wanted woman… half-smiling in sorrow, with a bold headline beneath:

“Isn’t this the traitor… Louisa, the spy who seduced the king and vanished? Has she been hiding here all this time — with her family? No way!”

She gasped silently, too shocked to speak. (Mother… what are you doing? Are you sending money to this criminal?!)

Before her spiraling thoughts could go further, Louisa gently broke the silence:

"Hello… it's a pleasure to meet you. But… why didn’t you visit us all these years?"

Fantine quickly thought and gathered her strength before responding:

"I was waiting for people to forget about you. I didn’t want to draw attention to you… when things finally quieted down, I came to see you myself."

Louisa softened a little and gave a faint smile:

"Thank you… for everything."

Then, Louisa’s mother kindly intervened:

"Stay for dinner, Rosentine. Join us."

Suddenly — as if slapped by an unseen hand — Rosentine stood up quickly.

Everyone was surprised.

She stammered, clearly shaken:

"No… I was actually… just on my way home to prepare dinner for my daughters… I’m sorry for the intrusion… maybe next time… thank you."

And she rushed out before anyone could stop her.

...

At home, as soon as she walked in, she began to frantically search through old boxes, drawers, shelves… she tore through old newspaper bags, flipping through magazines one by one until she found it—

There, in a special issue of an old magazine — a woman’s pale face, sleepy eyes, sorrowful features.

(It’s her! It’s her… Louisa! The one they were hunting eleven years ago!!)

Rosentine closed her eyes — then opened them with cold resolve.

(What is she doing here? And why is my mother sending her money? Is my mother… working with the enemy kingdom of Valerian? Is she a traitor too?!)

She considered going to the capital to confront her mother…

But then she saw the bounty — printed in the corner of the magazine. A large amount of money for turning Louisa in.

In that moment, poverty blinded her reason.

After minutes of bitter thought, she said aloud:

"Mother doesn’t send me money anymore… I’m just a burden to her now."

She paused, then added, voice trembling:

"You abandoned me first, Mother."

Then she looked at the reward again and muttered:

"This is perfect… I’ll live off it… and raise my daughters."

The next day, she went to the local municipality with ice in her veins.

She filed an official report, claiming she had seen the wanted spy by chance — giving Louisa’s full name and exact location.

The letter was immediately sent to the capital… and to the palace.

...

Two days later, the message arrived.

In the throne room, one of the king’s advisors read the letter aloud to King Arxen.

The king smirked darkly and murmured:

"Finally, after all these years… you've fallen into my trap. My little doll — you’ll pay dearly for making me wait."

Then he shouted:

"Bring me her head — and her parents’ heads with it! That’s the price of treason!"

...

On the morning of the third day…

The rural house was cloaked in silence.

Then…

A gentle knock at the door. They thought it was Rosentine.

Louisa’s father opened it — and was instantly assaulted by soldiers, vicious and merciless.

The grandmother’s screams filled the air, but they were useless.

Louisa was dragged out of her room, barefoot, crying, begging — while Irene ran after her, screaming:

"Mama!! Mama!!"

They dragged her outside, where everyone was gathered.

And then…

Everything fell apart.

The massacre lasted only seconds.

A scream.

A blade.

Blood.

And silence.

---