SFYF 11

Chapter 11

Christoph twitched his lips and rubbed his face with his dry hands. He was clearly flustered—or perhaps anxious.

“I don’t know anything about Marien.”

“…My lord.”

“I…”

Christoph finally buried his face in his palms. Martin, fearing he might be crying, unconsciously took a step forward.

But he wasn’t. A voice utterly desolate slipped through his palms.

“If not the capital, then where could Marien be?”

The murmur sounded so heartbreakingly forlorn that Martin looked down at his grown master as though he were a child. Christoph slowly opened his tightly shut eyes and spoke.

“I’ll find her, no matter what it takes.”

“How?”

Marien had gone somewhere beyond his reach. That fact plunged Christoph into deep despair. He felt as if he were plummeting helplessly into utter powerlessness.

Out of habit, Christoph clenched his fist tightly. His fist trembled faintly. Just as he thought he might give up right then and there, he abruptly stood up from his seat.

“I’ll go—to the train station.”

He couldn’t just sit still and wait. Every passing moment tightened his heart like a vice. His mind was flooded with the worst possible scenarios.

For the first time in his life, he realized how difficult breathing could be. It seemed better to search for her himself—then, at least, he wouldn’t be plagued by useless thoughts.

At that moment, a knock sounded. It was Günter.

“What is it?”

At Martin’s question, Günter opened his mouth with a respectful expression.

“Marquis Schneider has arrived.”

“…My grandfather?”

Christoph looked puzzled at the marquis’s unexpected visit. Soon after, he frowned with an annoyed expression.

He didn’t want to see him right now. Even at this very moment, Marien was surely drifting further away from him.

He needed to close the distance between them. Even if he didn’t know where she was, he had to move to find Marien. There was no time for idle chatter.

“Tell him I’ll visit him myself later.”

As he spoke and took a step forward, Christoph stopped again in his tracks—because Marquis Schneider had appeared behind Günter.

Leaning on his cane, the marquis slowly entered the room and offered a greeting.

“It’s been a while, Chris. You don’t seem to be… doing well.”

Seeing Christoph’s haggard face and deathly pale complexion, Marquis Schneider clicked his tongue disapprovingly. Christoph checked his pocket watch, suppressed his impatience, and asked,

“What brings you all the way here?”

“I heard you were nearly dead. Came to see just how mad you’ve gone. It’s quite a rare sight—you don’t get to witness this every day.”

Christoph stared at the marquis with sharp eyes, trying to discern his true intentions. But the seasoned marquis merely snorted, as if looking at a naive boy.

“That’s what you get—should’ve treated her well while you had the chance. Now that Marien’s run off, you’re burning with worry. Quite the sight.”

For an instant, Christoph’s eyes flashed. He shot a sharp glance at Martin. His voice turned icy cold.

“I told you to keep silent about Marien’s disappearance.”

If rumors spread that she had run away, it wouldn’t end as a simple escapade. Even after she returned, scandal would cling stubbornly to Marien.

That wasn’t what Christoph wanted. He didn’t wish to tarnish Marien’s honor. He intended to guard her place as if nothing had happened, so she could return without shame.

Yet if even the marquis in Blauberg had heard of it, it meant everyone in the capital already knew.

Martin, meeting his gaze, furrowed his brow faintly in confusion. His suspicious eyes turned toward Christoph.

“That’s impossible. We strictly observed your order of silence. There’s no servant bold enough in this mansion to disobey your command.”

“!”

At that moment, Christoph’s head snapped toward the marquis. If they’d kept silent, how did he know Marien had vanished?

Suddenly, his eyes gleamed with hope. Logic and reason had led him to a single conclusion—but Christoph couldn’t bring himself to speak yet.

Afraid it might be wishful thinking. Afraid his hope would turn once more into disappointment. His tightly clenched fist trembled. His sharp gaze was fixed on the marquis’s lips.

The marquis leaned his body against his cane, both hands resting on its handle.

“I’d intended to pretend I knew nothing, assuming you’d carry on without caring about Marien and remain buried in your work as usual.”

Christoph unconsciously stepped toward the marquis. His voice rose. An impatient question flew toward the marquis.

“Do you know where Marien is? Have you met her?”

Suddenly, the coachman’s words echoed in his mind—how he’d dropped her off at the train station.

Blauberg!

A quiet gasp escaped Christoph’s lips. It was true—sometimes the lamp burns brightest right beneath you.

Christoph had never once considered that she might have gone to Blauberg. Even as he ran through every place name in the empire, Blauberg hadn’t crossed his mind.

Marien, who had fled from him, had gone to his grandfather’s land.

She’d struck where he least expected. Of course—it was Marien. But now wasn’t the time to marvel at her cleverness.

“Where is Marien now?”

Marquis Schneider had never seen his grandson so agitated. Nor had he ever witnessed him so emotional.

You were wrong this time, Marien. You’ve turned this boy into this.

“Arms always bend inward, after all. My grandson weighs more heavily on my mind than poor Marien.”

“Grandfather!”

As the marquis kept delaying, Christoph finally shouted. The marquis’s eyes widened slightly.

It had been a very long time since he’d been called “Grandfather.” Except when he was very young, Christoph had always addressed him formally as “Your Grace” or “Marquis.”

Grandfather.

A faint smile tugged at Marquis Schneider’s lips. Coming all the way to the capital had been worth it. If not now, when else would he ever hear Christoph call him “Grandfather”?

Even the once-ruthless “Shark Marquis,” feared as the emotionless emperor of the sea, seemed to have grown old. To be moved by something so trivial…

“Follow me.”

Marquis Schneider turned his back nonchalantly.

Ah…!

Relief finally swept across Christoph’s face. Or perhaps it was joy. Maybe exhilaration. Or even peace.

Standing still, fists clenched, he slowly swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably. And at last—

“…Marien.”

Christoph murmured her name softly and walked straight out of the room. Martin hurried after them, grabbing his jacket at the last moment.

“My lord, please wait just a moment.”

The scenery outside the window rushed past. Even the occasional houses disappeared, leaving only endless, monotonous fields stretching into the distance. A single cypress tree flashed by in an instant.

Christoph’s gaze was fixed on the green expanse, but he wasn’t truly seeing the tranquil landscape. Frowning slightly, he struggled to find answers to the questions tormenting his mind.

“The police headquarters, you said?”

He finally voiced the question aloud—as if, no matter how much he thought, he couldn’t find the answer.

Marquis Schneider placed both hands on his cane and nodded.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

Suddenly, Christoph’s expression turned cold. He had always been like a razor-sharp blade—dangerous, keen-edged. The slightest lapse in caution could result in a cut. His steel gaze made no distinction of its target.

The marquis couldn’t possibly have missed this. Yet he wasn’t so easily intimidated by his grandson’s intensity. Though appearing benevolent on the surface, he himself had once been the infamous “Shark Marquis.”

He smiled calmly and spoke.

“Don’t blame me for honoring Marien’s request. I’m quite fond of that girl—perhaps more than you think, Christoph.”

Christoph, his dark eyes fixed on the marquis, quietly twitched his lips. Instead of pressing further, he asked softly,

“Marien Habeck?”

“Yes, that’s the name she’s using now.”

Marquis Schneider gazed at his grandson—whose jawline had grown sharper since their last meeting—and continued in a gentle tone.

“Let me see… she probably started her first day today. By the time we arrive in Blauberg, she’ll be finishing work. Despite my objections, Marien is staying at a boarding house on 31st Street—the one run by Louis’s mother, the butler’s assistant. He’ll be waiting for us when we arrive. Follow Louis.”

Christoph’s expression suddenly darkened. His black eyes sank into unfathomable depths. He clenched his jaw tightly, as if swallowing rising emotion.

Not Marien Schneider—but Marien Habeck. Did she want to discard the Schneider name? Did she wish to sever her ties with him? Why?

Another unanswered question invaded his thoughts. At that moment, a name surfaced in his mind.

Veronica Clozier.

“Did Marien enter the police headquarters under a false identity because of Veronica?”

“…”

The marquis struck the core of his thoughts as if reading his mind. Christoph slowly lifted his eyes.

Their gazes met. The marquis’s steel-gray eyes seemed to reproach Christoph’s indifference.

“I personally reviewed the Veronica case. The investigating detective’s report showed nothing unusual. It was… a suicide, sadly.”

A feeble excuse slipped from Christoph’s lips—as if the marquis were Marien herself.

The marquis gazed silently at his grandson—at Christoph Schneider, now undeniably a full-grown man.

Long ago, upon hearing of his son and daughter-in-law’s accident, he’d rushed to the scene and found Christoph standing alone.

The mere four-year-old boy had stared with dark eyes at the crushed vehicle. He hadn’t cried or screamed. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead.

Yet the child hadn’t even tried to wipe it away—he’d just stared mutely at the unrecognizable wreck.

He’d thought himself fortunate. Amid such horror, at least one heir to the Schneider name had survived—it felt like divine providence.

Afterward, the marquis placed upon Christoph all the expectations once meant for his son. Fortunately, Christoph proved exceptional, satisfying the marquis in every way—enough to offset the grief of losing his son.

But now, in the twilight of his life, the marquis belatedly recognized his mistake. Everything had been driven by his own selfish desires.

Now, more than anything, he wished for Christoph’s happiness. He truly meant it. Having rebuilt the Schneider name with his own hands, he wanted Christoph to enjoy it in peace.

Tsk.

Christoph clicked his tongue softly, still gazing out the window—as if annoyed the train wasn’t moving faster.

Suddenly, the marquis’s lips relaxed. Recalling the Christoph he’d seen in the study just moments ago, he let out a gentle sigh.

Marquis Schneider had never witnessed his grandson lose his composure so thoroughly. Never had he seen him so impatient, so anxious.

Perhaps this was the moment a man who’d never known failure in his life finally faced true despair.