'I said, wait!'

Two days.

IT'S BEEN TWO FUCKING DAYS! In about a day and a half, the whole empire would be busy preparing to welcome the start of another year that's happening five days from now. That's plenty of time to disguise themselves and slip to just about everywhere.

Ancel's nowhere to be found. Amelia's carriage and her escorts' gone, as well as Jyver… All available Felfords assassins have been called to the capital and swept streets, alleys, and towns as quietly as they can. Stanwinx, who turned out to be Vance's mercenary buddy back in the days, arrived at the duchess' mansion too. Vernon was informed yesterday and arrived at Calser towing hell along with him as he stormed through the mansion's door, almost breaking it.

"Alexander!" Maude rushed to the entrance when she was passing by the hallway and saw the duke entered covered in snow. He's been searching for Amelia by himself without rest, all the while, blaming himself for what happened. "Rest. You're not going to find her when you're dead." She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the nearest sitting room and forced him to sit in front of the fireplace. "You stay there. I'll call for someone to fix you something to eat. Oh, good, Christa, darling! Get the duke something warm and filling."

"Where's Vance? Did they find Ancel already? Elias? How about the carriage? Did you send a letter to Laila's family? How about her other lady-in-waiting, did you tell her already?" Those were just the beginning of Alexander's never-ending questions that he had been asking every time he came back from searching for the duchess. It was the exact same questions in the exact same sequence that Maude have already memorized most of it.

"You've been out in the cold for most of the day, only coming back to check for updates and then you're off again. You're not going to last long in this state." It's like Maude telling him that what's he's doing is futile—it's like seven years ago all over again. But he's not the same person seven years ago, he should be able to do something helpful right now. So why does it really feel... useless?

He hasn't seen Vance or Reignold since. Vernon and Elias left too.

It's like he's chasing after something someone already had reigns on. What's Vance doing right now? Is Vernon already on his way to where Amelia is? The sun is setting again and tomorrow might be too late for him.

Alexander stood up, grabbed his coat and with heavy footsteps, walked towards the door of the sitting room where he bumped into Christa, almost toppling the tray she carried.

"Wait! Where are you going? Mother said you shouldn't be out again." Amelia's lady-in-waiting panicked and struggled to decide whether to put down the tray and grab the duke's arm to stop him, but the nearest table was too far. By the time she placed the tray down, he'd already be a few meters out. "Duke Clement!" Christa grunted and settled the tray on the floor instead and ran after Alexander. "I said, wait!" Alexander pulled his arm free rather forcefully, which made the marchioness' daughter trip and fall. Realizing what he has done, the duke stopped in his tracks to offer a hand at the glaring lady who refused it.

As if reality punched him hard in the gut, his eyes narrowed on his fingers digging into his palm. With a deep breath, he tried to collect himself. And just as he was about to take a step closer to the main door, it swung open, filling the hall with the coldness that knocked the remaining wits out of Alexander as he stood there. Frozen on the floor, his body unwilling to budge from his place as the Mulford heir rushed to bring a barely breathing knight inside.

The young duke gulped. Bloodied clothes, eyes closed, blue lips, and a golden eagle's wing brooch pinned on his clothing.

"Get out of the way!" Elias pushed Alexander in haste, and he stumbled a few steps back; his eyes following the Mulford heir and the frantic lady-in-waiting as they rushed Jyver to the room where he stayed earlier. It didn't take long until Maude arrived with some servants. After a few minutes, Dehstun came running down the stairs with a leather bag in his hand.

Slowly, the young duke walked back to the room and found his knight with stab wounds on his torso, large bruises on his body and face, and a long cut on his thigh.

That can't be him, Alexander thought. He's an accomplished knight and a Felfords assassin. Whatever happened out there, Jyver's sure to find a way to stay alive.

"He's not dead, is he?" Elias asked what no one dared to.

"Dying," was the doctor's quick reply. "His layered clothing softened the blow but even though there seemed to be no damage to his organs, the wounds are deep, and he lost significant amount of blood. It's already a miracle that he's still breathing."

"But will he live?" It was Christa's frantic voice that rose as she held tightly onto a fresh warmed blanket. She was tasked to take the knight's clothes as the doctor took it off of him aside from his undergarments.

With a disappointed sigh, Dehstun said, staring straight at Alexander, "At least two more hours. At least. He's used all his luck just trying to stay alive in his state… in this weather. Only true miracle can pull him out of death's grips."

Did he hear the doctor right? Jyver only has two hours to live? Alexander's heart beat so fast he was running out of air. His knees trembled. If he wasn't grabbing the door's frame, his would've been down on the carpet.

He wanted to ask what the chances were but Dehstun clearly said it and looking at his knight, he already looks good as dead. The swollen wounds, the cut on his now chapped pale lips, a swollen right cheek and eye. He's seen his knight all bruised and wounded before but not like this—never like this. If it was just any other person, he would've said a little prayer and moved on. But this is Jyver.

He was the first that Alexander knighted and picked him to be a part of his Shadow Knights seven years ago—a group of trusted knights he founded after what happened to Amelia's parents.

The Jyver who followed him everywhere he went. Who made up excuses for him, who laid in bed at night pretending to be him every time he snuck out. Jyver who always looked at him with disgust whenever he stops by his little private pleasure house, but treated his women with such care and respect...

Jyver who's never good with trees—a sibling, a brother who's always there when Leti and Toby's not around. He's a friend.

No. He can't die. Jyver can't die.

"You have to do everything to keep him alive." Alexander demanded, his voice low and hard.

"I can do everything, but the facts remain. He's—"

"I'll pay you any amount. You name it, just... he—Jyver can't die!" Everyone in the room stopped what they're doing when the force of Alexander's fist against the doorframe rattled some small portrait hanging on the wall.

"If only money can bribe death. But I'm sorry, your grace. The only thing we can do now is make him comforta—" screams and rattled decors filled the room. One moment Alexander was by the door, the next, he's got his hand firmly around Dehstun's neck, pinning him against the wall. Commotion started behind him. Maude told him off, trying to put back sense in his head but it didn't register. Words flew over is head and passed his ringing ears. The female servants stormed out and Christa ran off to call for Elias who left earlier to get changed.

"This... this is not the way to go, boy." The doctor just as fit as Alexander, but he's only younger than Vance by a few years. Even if he's had his days waking up and sleeping at death's door during the wars he's been at, it was already a long time ago. Lately he's just been enjoying his days traveling and helping the unfortunate get through the night by aiding them medically. There's no way he won't struggle being attacked by a healthy twenty-something man.

"Jyver will not die. He still has plans to woe and marry and have children of his own! He's far stronger than anyone else! He's trained for this kind of mishaps. He's..." Alexander's voice cracked and thinned out. His grip loosened.

"This is life... your grace," Dehstun softly whispered when he freed himself from the duke's grasps. "I'm sure he's beyond grateful to know that you're getting angry for him." Alexander stared at the carpeted floor; the glow of the nearby fire dancing at their feet slowly blurred out. He kept repeating in his head that this isn't happening, that this is just another rock to stumble on. That when the sun rises back up, it's going to be another new day to face—but the thought that Jyver's...

Alexander's thoughts stopped as he felt the doctor's warmth against him, his free hand patting the back of his head that the duke naturally placed his forehead on Dehstun's shoulder.

"You're not going to be less of a duke if you cry. These things are never easy."

"But you have to try..." Alexander murmured, his voice shaking and breaths short.

"Of course, I will," came a comforting reply that tugged the young duke's heart and his shoulders just dropped. After a few seconds, with another deep breath, he stood up straight and Dehstun squeezed his shoulders and said nothing aside from an understanding nod before he was off to Jyver's side again.

Shortly after that, Elias barged into the room with a thundering voice just like his father, "What happened?" he asked, but everything has mellowed down by then. Alexander's standing at the corner near the window, looking out with his arms folded on his chest. Maude and a few male servants helped Dehstun move Jyver on a pile of duvets laid on the floor near the fireplace so the doctor can move around him better. The female servants went to and from bringing refills of warm water to wipe down the knight's body with.

Everybody worked quietly. He saw how the doctor sew Jyver's wounds closed and applied some salve before covering it. He's breathing very slowly now. The duke can hardly see it and every time he came to this realization, he'd face the other way. Alexander moved from one spot to another then another again, praying the best he could.

As Dehstun secured that last wound, hurried footsteps sounded, and the door suddenly swung open. It's Arabella, her hair disheveled, panting, her face pale with fright.

"Ancel?!" her voice shook but she stayed by the door. It was the first he heard her so... fragile. "Someone told me that they found a bloodied unconscious knight half buried in the snow. Is it Ancel? Is it my brother? How is he? He's going to live right? Grandfather's right behind me. He'd want to know the details." the lady-in-waiting barely had time to breath. From where she stood, Dehstun blocked her sight.

"It's Jyver," Alexander walked towards the lady assassin.

"What? It's Jyver?" she let out a sigh of relief and the young duke couldn't hide the tightened lips and tensed jaw.

"Yes. The doctor said he won't live long."

"What? Is he from the Heavens to know when someone will die? If he is then, he should just bring Jyver to life and call it a miracle!" Arabella marched towards the group surrounding Alexander's knight. "You!" she said, grabbing Dehstun by the shoulder and pushing him away only to find the state Jyver's in. Her hand squeezed the shoulders she planned to push very far away from the knight—a Felfords assassin.

"If only I'm from the Heavens..." Dehstun murmured, and the lady assassin smiled ruefully. Her eyes ran all over Jyver's body, staying last at his chest. Arabella sucked air through her teeth, the lady released her hold of the doctor and went to a nearby vacant stool to sit down after telling Dehstun to continue what he was doing.

After a while, the Felfords head arrived, panting like his granddaughter was formerly, but seeing that hell hasn't been let loose in the mansion, he collected himself and asked Elias who was nearer to the door about the situation. The Mulford heir reiterated everything and at the end of his statement, he handed the old man a small pouch. Reignold opened it and within a heartbeat, his face twisted. He clenched his fist and cursed discreetly.

Alexander saw all this, and he thought, 'Ah, they know who's behind all this.' But unlike before, he was too exhausted now to even bother who catches or who gets to kill the man or how—at the moment, he simply didn't care. He's not going to get there fast enough anyway. Like before, they'd solve this within themselves. They'd find Amelia and they'll punish whoever's behind all this.

All on their own.

That's just how this plays out... That's how it has always been for him and the people behind the duchess.

Snow fell continuously outside, as if it knows what will happened next. And with the crackle of the newly placed wood in the hearth, Jyver's string of fate burned and snapped.