Linia Took in a Child - Chapter 4: The Pursuer (1)

The day after the rain stopped, another death occurred in the mansion. A servant was found hanging from the ceiling in his room. Since it happened just a day after the maid’s death, rumors spread among the staff that the two had been lovers and that he had taken his own life in despair. However, these were mere speculations, and no one could truly understand why he had suddenly ended his life.

While the entire mansion buzzed with unease, the guestroom where Linia stayed was serene, as if it belonged to another world.

Ruin sat on the bed, gazing down at Linia, who lay beside him. Her pale forehead was damp with cold sweat. Moving his hand, he gently wiped it away and brushed back her damp hair.

Had he pushed her too hard last night? After carrying her unconscious body to the room and laying her down, she had continued to groan and whimper through the night. By morning, she was burning with a fever so high that she couldn’t even open her eyes.

‘It seems to have gone down a bit.’

Though her temperature was still warm to the touch, it was noticeably better than it had been in the morning. Ruin withdrew his hand from her forehead and clasped her fingers with his. Sitting by her side, holding her hand, he stayed there for an indeterminate amount of time. From outside, the sound of an approaching carriage broke the silence.

Gently releasing her hand, Ruin rose and walked to the window. He saw a carriage slowly making its way toward the mansion. It seemed the man had returned.

Shifting his gaze from the mansion’s scenery, Ruin’s eyes landed on a vase sitting on the table. The flowers he had once gifted her had wilted not long after, but the vase was now filled with fresh blossoms.

They were the same flowers from the bouquet he had given her—yellow hydrangeas and white roses, still blooming vibrantly, exuding their sweet fragrance. Ruin walked over to the vase and picked it up.

Returning to the window, he looked down to see a man with black hair stepping out of the carriage. As the man walked beneath the window, Ruin released the vase from his small hands. Without glancing down, he turned and returned to the bed. Through the open window, loud voices rose from below, but he ignored them, sinking back into Linia’s gentle embrace.

*

That evening, Russell sat in the study. Tapping his fingers anxiously on the tea table, he appeared to be waiting for someone. As the rhythmic tapping continued, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

At Russell’s words, Sophie cautiously opened the door and entered. The moment she saw him, her eyes widened in shock.

“Oh my goodness, are you injured?”

His right arm was wrapped in white bandages, securely fastened with a sling hanging from his shoulder—evidence of a significant injury.

“I had a small accident.”

Though the truth was that his arm had broken while dodging the falling vase, Russell kept his explanation brief. Had he not been lucky enough to avoid it, he might not even be alive to have this conversation now.

After being helped to his feet by the staff, Russell had noticed the shattered vase and scattered flowers on the floor. Those flowers were the same ones he had given to Linia as a gift.

Russell delayed seeking treatment and went straight to her room. Knocking on the door with his left hand, Linia soon opened it.

Her face was pale and devoid of color, and she looked unwell, as if she had just woken up from sleep. Seeing her in such a disheveled state, Russell found it difficult to linger and quickly told her he would return later before turning away.

During the brief exchange, however, he had scanned the room beyond her shoulder. The only things he noticed were the wide-open window and a child sleeping on the bed—nothing appeared particularly out of place.

Was it possible that the vase on the windowsill had been accidentally knocked over by the wind? Even as he rationalized it that way, a small seed of suspicion remained planted in his mind.

‘Was it really just a coincidence…? Or did someone deliberately wait for the moment I passed by to drop it on purpose?’

That suspicion hadn’t faded—it had only grown, steadily consuming his thoughts.

Silver-gray hair, red eyes, the magician, the mysterious child, the recent series of events—words swirled in his mind, blending into one overwhelming and oppressive mass that weighed heavily on him.

The notion of suspecting the child simply because of a similar hair color to “him” felt absurd, even to himself. Yet Russell couldn’t shake the unease he felt toward the child. This nagging suspicion was why he had summoned Sophie to the study in private.

“…You mentioned before that Ruin didn’t seem like an ordinary child. Besides what you told me then, has there been anything else unusual about him?”

“What? No, everything I told you last time was all I’ve noticed.”

“Even the smallest detail would be fine. If there’s something you didn’t mention because you thought I wouldn’t believe it, please tell me now.”

But Sophie only shook her head, reaffirming that what she had already said was everything she knew.

“I see,” Russell replied softly, lowering his gaze to his injured right arm. He couldn’t help but think his suspicions were overblown. Perhaps hearing stories about “him” had made him overly anxious, causing him to see danger in even trivial matters—to the point of suspecting a mere child. At that moment, Sophie hesitantly spoke again.

“Ah… This might just be my imagination, but… When the boy threw the pancake I made onto the floor, I thought, for a moment, that his eyes looked a little red.”

“Red? Do you mean his eyes were bloodshot?”

“No, not like that. I mean his eye color. His pupils seemed to turn a bit red.”

Russell’s lips pressed into a firm line. He stiffly raised his head, his jaw tense.

“I only saw it briefly, so I’m not sure… But it looked like the color of his eyes changed. You probably don’t believe me, do you?” Sophie added, her voice faltering slightly at Russell’s lack of response. Even as she said it, she realized how unrealistic it sounded. A person’s eye color changing? Such a thing was nearly impossible.

Contrary to her expectations, however, Russell felt as though he had stumbled upon a clue within the tangled mess of threads that had been tying up his thoughts.

*

Even after Sophie left, Russell remained in the study, deep in thought. He replayed every story and detail Sophie had shared, carefully unraveling each thread of information in his mind.

How much time had passed as he pieced his thoughts together, as if untangling a knotted string? Finally, he arrived at a chilling conclusion: Ruin—the mysterious child—might very well be the fugitive “Edwin Schpenhardt.”

When the child first arrived at the mansion, he had been described as bloodied. Yet, upon reviewing records of incidents near the estate from two months ago to a month ago, there was no sign of any accident severe enough to cause such injuries to a child.

Not only that, but the timing of the child’s arrival coincided almost perfectly with the period when “he” had escaped. Could the wound on the child’s shoulder have been sustained during his escape from the capital to this remote location? And perhaps, in order to evade the empire’s relentless pursuit, “he” had taken on the guise of a child. If it was possible to alter one’s appearance with magic, this hypothesis seemed plausible.

Although it was all speculation, Russell decided he should inform the royal family just in case. If they sent a mage, it would be possible to confirm whether the child truly was “Edwin Schpenhardt.” A mage capable of detecting magic could surely determine whether the child’s appearance was real or a facade.

Until the child’s true identity was confirmed, Russell had no intention of sharing his suspicions with his father or brother. If he told them, they would undoubtedly demand he leave the mansion. However, Russell couldn’t bring himself to abandon the estate’s staff and Linia, leaving them behind to secure his own safety.

‘…I should tell her.’

Russell resolved to confide in Linia alone. As the person closest to the child, she might not believe his words, but gaining her cooperation before the royal mage arrived seemed like the best course of action. After all, the child responded most obediently to her.

The next day, Russell visited Linia’s room. Her complexion had improved noticeably, with a faint flush of color returning to her cheeks. Her alabaster skin and loosely braided golden hair suited her so perfectly that Russell found himself briefly admiring her. Just then, she parted her lips to speak softly.

“Your arm…”

Her gaze landed on his bandaged right arm, and she looked up at him in concern, as if silently asking how he had been injured. Before Russell could respond, Linia spoke again.

“Come in. Let me treat it for you.”

Unable to refuse her kindness, Russell followed her into the room. He sat on a chair, removed the bandages, and offered her his injured arm.

Linia’s delicate hands touched his forearm cautiously. Slowly, a soft white glow began to emanate from her hands, gradually enveloping his arm in light. Seeing divine power being used so close to him for the first time, Russell couldn’t help but be awestruck.

Linia eventually withdrew her power and pulled her hands away.

“How does your arm feel now?”

“…It’s incredible. It already feels almost healed. Thank you, Linia.”

“You’re welcome. But how did you get injured?”

Her concern was clear in her voice, but Russell couldn’t bring himself to admit that he had been hurt by a vase falling in her room. He simply claimed it was due to a fall, then quickly shifted the conversation to the reason for his visit.

“Linia, could we speak privately for a moment?”

“If it’s just a conversation, that’s fine… Will it take long?”

Her tone suggested she was worried about leaving Ruin alone. Indeed, the boy, who had been sitting on the bed, promptly stood up and ran to her side, clutching her tightly. Nestling into her embrace, he clung to her and whined, “I want to come too. Let me go with you.”

Russell didn’t seem particularly bothered by the situation—he had anticipated this reaction. The child never left Linia’s side. If he wanted to speak with her alone, he would have to lie to the boy to separate them, even for a short while.

“In that case, Ruin, how about you and I talk alone for a moment?”

Ruin, who had been resting his forehead against Linia’s chest, raised his head at Russell’s suggestion. For a moment, the boy silently studied Russell, as if trying to discern his true intentions. Eventually, he gave a small nod.

“I’ll just step out with him for a brief chat,” Russell reassured her.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll leave the room for you,” Linia replied, gently releasing Ruin from her arms.

As Linia walked out of the room, Ruin stood motionless, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure. Russell observed this quietly before the boy turned his dark eyes toward him. Their gazes met in the empty air. Ruin’s face remained expressionless, though there was a faint trace of boredom in his demeanor.

Realizing he couldn’t remain silent for long, Russell broke the tension.

“The truth is… I want to confess my feelings to her. So, I need to speak with her privately. Can you help me?”

Russell realized he needed a convincing reason to be alone with her. Looking down at the silver-haired boy with a tense expression, he silently prayed the excuse would work. If it didn’t, he wasn’t sure how else to separate the boy from Linia.

“Alright, go ahead and try,” the boy said, smiling innocently. There wasn’t a hint of suspicion or displeasure in his expression.

“But no matter what you do, Linia will still like me the most,” he added confidently. His tone was laced with an unshakable self-assurance that felt surprisingly endearing, almost like that of a younger brother. Russell found it hard to reconcile this image with the idea that this boy might be “him”—someone responsible for countless murders, even the deaths of his own family.

“Thank you,” Russell said, concealing his unease. He turned away and began walking toward the door to call Linia back. Just as he lifted his left foot to take another step, his body suddenly lurched forward. Without time to process what was happening, he instinctively threw out both arms to break his fall.

The shock passed in an instant. As he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a sharp nail sticking out of the smooth wooden floor just inches from his face. Russell swallowed hard, realizing how close he’d come to a serious injury. If his right arm hadn’t been recently healed, he might not have been able to break his fall in time—and the nail could have pierced his eye.

‘What just happened?’

The whole thing had happened so quickly that Russell couldn’t make sense of it. All he remembered was the brief sensation of something catching his right foot.

“Are you hurt?”

The clear voice behind him sent a chill down his spine. Russell had heard something else just after he’d fallen—a faint, almost imperceptible sound, like someone clicking their tongue.

From the hallway, Linia heard the loud crash and hurried to the door. She had been standing near the windows, waiting.

“Ruin? …Russell?” she called softly as she approached. After knocking cautiously, she opened the door and found Russell just beginning to pick himself up from the floor. Her gaze shifted to Ruin, who stood behind him, and the boy promptly explained what had happened.

“He fell all of a sudden. There was a huge crash,” Ruin said nonchalantly.

“Russell, are you alright?” Linia asked, her voice filled with concern.

“…I’m fine. But don’t come any closer—it’s dangerous. There’s a nail sticking out of the floor,” Russell replied.

Hearing this, Linia froze and looked down, noticing the protruding nail for the first time.

“How did this…?”

“It seems the floor needs repairs,” Russell said, trying to sound calm, though his voice betrayed a slight tremor. His heart was pounding wildly, and his back felt damp with cold sweat.

The boy behind him wasn’t just an ordinary child. Russell wanted to leave the room immediately, but he also knew he couldn’t waste this opportunity. If he didn’t speak with Linia now, he might not get another chance to be alone with her.

“Linia, would it be possible for us to talk somewhere else while the floor is being repaired?” he asked.