Seven days later…
The sun shone down from the western sky of Rose Valley. Its light fell upon a woman walking along the rural road of the valley.
Clara's purple hair shimmered under the sunlight as she strolled leisurely past the villagers' homes.
Along the way, she saw the villagers going about their peaceful daily routines. Young mothers carried their children while feeding them. Teenage girls chatted cheerfully as they wove wool on their porches. Little children ran across their yards, giggling.
Clara returned the villagers' greetings with a warm smile. An elderly man approached her with a hoe resting on his shoulder.
"Good afternoon, Miss Clara," the old man greeted.
"Good afternoon, sir," Clara replied kindly.
"Heading to Mrs Marry's house again?" he asked with a gentle smile.
Clara nodded slightly. "As you can see, sir."
"Good. Mrs Marry is indeed a very kind mother," he said, stroking his beard. "Please give her my regards, Miss."
"Of course, sir," Clara answered.
The old man continued on his way. Clara watched his back for a moment—until she saw a female knight approaching from the end of the village road.
Dust swirled beneath the hooves of her horse. The knight slowed her pace as she neared Clara.
She dismounted by the roadside, stepped toward Clara, and gave a respectful salute.
"Miss Clara… I just received a letter from the capital," the knight said as she handed it over.
"A letter from the capital?!" Clara took the letter sealed with a golden rose. "Hmm… thank you for your hard work. You may continue your duties."
"Yes, Miss Clara. Call for me anytime you need assistance," the knight replied with a nod.
Once the knight rode away, Clara remained standing by the roadside for a moment.
She tapped her chin, staring at the letter. Then she slowly broke the seal and unfolded the golden-tinted paper.
Clara read the message carefully. Her brows twitched as she reached the final line.
"Clara… how is the progress of apprehending Bragg and Barel? I hope you can capture them soon. The documents are piling up on my desk."
—Prince Elvyn El Rose
Clara slipped the paper back into its envelope and tucked it inside her coat pocket. Her eyes drifted toward the northern hill of the village, where a modest home stood—where Marry and her daughter lived in peace.
"Prince Elvyn… forgive me. I haven't found those two fugitives here—But you might be shocked if you knew what I did find," she murmured inwardly.
Clara sighed as she brushed her gloved fingers through her tied-up hair.
"No! I don't think it's a good idea for Elvyn and Marry to meet right now," she thought.
…
Clara stood silently for a moment before continuing her walk toward the northern part of the village. She left the clustered homes behind and followed the gently rising footpath.
The scent of roses and warm earth drifted on the breeze. Clara passed a field of wild roses, stopping in front of a simple wooden house across the flower field.
A blue butterfly fluttered past her, followed by a sweet, tiny voice.
"Butterfly… don't run away! Caelan wants to play!" said the little girl.
Clara smiled softly as a silver-haired child ran up to her. Caelan's blue eyes sparkled when she saw Clara.
"Big Sis Clara…" Caelan said in her innocent voice.
The child slowed to a stop before her. Clara gently patted Caelan's hair. Each strand felt as soft as silk.
"Hello, Caelan. What are you playing today?" Clara asked warmly.
"Caelan's playing tag with the butterflies, Sis. But—" Caelan's cheeks puffed up. "The butterflies don't wanna play with Caelan."
Clara covered her mouth, letting out a small laugh.
"Don't be sad, Caelan. Maybe the butterflies are just shy," Clara said, trying to cheer up the sweet girl. "Do you want me to help?"
"No, Sis." Caelan shook her tiny head. "Caelan can catch the butterflies herself."
"In that case, you can call me anytime. I'm going to meet your Mama," Clara said softly.
A red butterfly flew past Caelan. Her little head followed its path. She looked up at Clara while pointing at it.
"Sis, Caelan wants to play tag with that butterfly," she said innocently.
Caelan ran after it. Clara watched the cheerful little girl with a gentle smile.
Caelan jumped, trying to catch the red butterfly, but it fluttered just above her reach.
"Buuutterfly… let's play with Caelan," she whined.
Clara chuckled softly at how adorable the child was.
"Be careful, Caelan. Have fun," Clara said, waving her hand.
Clara waited until Caelan was fully absorbed in her play before turning toward the wooden house. She stopped right at the door.
"I hope… today, I can find a clue about those two fugitives. I can't keep Prince Elvyn waiting any longer," she thought.
Clara knocked gently. The door opened to reveal a young silver-haired mother wearing a rose-patterned dress. She smiled softly at Clara. She was Marry El Rose.
"You've come again, Miss Clara," Marry greeted.
"Mrs Marry… forgive me for bothering you again," Clara replied.
"Please, come in," Marry said warmly, stepping aside to welcome her.
"Thank you, Mrs Marry." Clara nodded and entered the house.
—
Unplanned Confession…
Marry welcomed Clara as she always did. For seven days in a row, the Royal Detective had come to her house—sometimes just to greet her, sometimes to help with chores, sometimes simply to play with her little daughter.
Marry brought cookies and two cups of warm tea, placing them on the wooden table. Clara sat on the sofa, resting her chin on her hand. The female detective looked awkward, as if something weighed on her mind.
Marry sat across from Clara. She crossed her legs and held her cup with a hand.
"Is something troubling you, Miss Clara?" Marry asked before taking a slow, elegant sip of her tea.
Clara lifted her head and saw the woman drinking with the perfect etiquette of a noble from the capital. She gave a faint smile before speaking.
"Mrs Marry… to be honest, my investigation has reached a dead end," Clara sighed. "Seven days have passed, but I still haven't found any trace of the two fugitives."
Marry set down her cup and gently extended her hand toward Clara.
"Drink first, Miss Clara. Enjoy your afternoon," she said softly.
Clara nodded slowly. She picked up a cookie, chewed it quietly, then took a slow sip of tea.
Clara set down the cup and gave a nervous smile.
"Mrs Marry…" she said softly, half-joking, "You killed them, didn't you?"
Marry didn't answer immediately. She simply looked at Clara for a moment. Then she nodded.
"Yes," she replied plainly.
Clara let out a nervous laugh.
"Hahaha, you… you're really serious with that answer. There's no way you… I mean… how could you—"
Her laughter faded as she realised Marry's expression hadn't changed at all. The woman smiled calmly, as if nothing unusual had been said.
"You're… serious?"
Marry picked up her cup again and sipped her tea.
"I haven't been hiding anything. You simply never asked. And all this time, you were too busy playing with Caelan than investigating me," she said quietly.
Clara froze. Her green eyes widened. The world seemed to collapse in an instant.
"But how…? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"You came here with a mission," Marry replied. "But every day, you removed your detective mask. I thought you needed a place to rest—not a painful truth."
Clara lowered her head. Her hands hung limply at her sides.
"So all this time… the answer was right in front of me? Haha…" she laughed awkwardly. All her efforts, her time, her questioning—felt meaningless.
Marry gave a faint smile, watching the flustered detective across from her.
—
The Story of the Killings
A moment later… Marry explained everything. Clara listened intently to her story.
The two fugitives had indeed arrived at the edge of the forest behind the village. They had tried to escape toward the Wealth Kingdom after attempting to kidnap children and women from Rose Valley.
Marry had witnessed how the rough swordsman and the greasy, overweight man tortured a little boy named Thomas. They even tried to capture her while she was in disguise. In the end, she killed the two vile fugitives and rescued little Thomas.
"They were beasts. I would never allow them to escape. They were slave traders who tried to abduct the girls and children of Rose Valley," Marry said softly, her expression flat.
"Then… where are their bodies?" Clara asked gently.
"They've become fertiliser," Marry answered casually. "My familliar of the blood-rose tendrils devoured everything. Bones, flesh, blood—nothing remains."
Hearing Marry's confession, Clara turned pale. The blue-eyed woman had become cold—exactly like the blood executioner the world had known ten years ago.
"Marry… so you're still ruthless toward criminals who hurt females and children," Clara thought.
"It's like… you fed them to dogs," Clara whispered.
"They were worse than carrion," Marry replied, expression unchanging.
…
Clara took a long, heavy breath. She lifted her cup and drank the tea again. Then she set the cup down on the table and pulled out a letter, its golden seal already broken.
"Today, I received a letter from the capital," Clara said. "Prince Elvyn El Rose is urging me to conclude the investigation quickly."
The moment she heard the name Elvyn, Marry's expression changed. Her lips fell, holding back sadness, old wounds, and guilt buried deep with time.
"Prince Elvyn… he's your younger brother, isn't he?" Clara asked awkwardly.
Marry nodded slowly. She sighed before speaking.
"He's the only family I have left. After I became the Blood Executioner… I chose to distance myself from him." Marry bit her lip. "I didn't want to drag him into danger."
Clara looked at Marry with gentle, sorrowful eyes. Her lips stayed closed for a moment after hearing Marry's confession. Then she finally spoke again.
"Now… Prince Elvyn doesn't remember who you are." Clara paused. "But he always feels like a piece of his soul is missing."
"He never stopped searching for… 'someone precious' in his life. He calls it a warmth he's forgotten."
Marry fell silent for a long time. Her fingers tightened around her teacup, as if the pressure alone could hold back the flood of memories.
She knew her only brother had been longing for her for years. But she refused to reopen old wounds. The world had forgotten her—forgotten the Blood Rose—and now her brother deserved to begin a new life without her shadow.
"In that case… it's better if he doesn't remember me. His world will be kinder without my presence."
Clara sat quietly at that confession. She knew this gentle woman carried everything alone. The world had forgotten her seven years ago. And now she couldn't even greet her own younger brother.
"Marry… you've been bearing this pain alone. I hope… you can be live happily with your daughter," she thought.
…
For a moment, Clara and Marry sat in silence. Clara turned the letter over in her hands again and again.
She had no idea how to report this case. Justice had been served—two fugitives punished. But not by a court. By the hands of a woman who once haunted the dreams of a tyrant empire, and who now spent her days watering flowers as a gentle young mother.
Clara said nothing. But Marry broke the quiet.
"What will you write in your report?" Marry asked.
Clara stared at the letter, then let out a long sigh.
"Honestly, I don't know. I dislike vague reports. But… perhaps this time, I'll simply write that the fugitives were not found… and the search is to be closed," Clara replied softly.
Clara rose from the sofa. Her green eyes reflected the silhouette of the woman in the rose-patterned dress.
"I hope… we can meet again—not as detective and fugitive—but as…" She hesitated. "…as people who understand each other."
Marry offered her a faint smile. She nodded gently, like an evening breeze brushing through rose petals.
"Take good care of yourself, Miss Clara. The world outside the Valley is not as kind as Caelan," Marry said softly.
Marry walked her to the door. She stood in the doorway—but a small voice called from outside the house.
"Mommy… Caelan's home!" Caelan said cheerfully as she ran toward her.
"Caelan…" Marry caught her daughter as the little girl leapt into her arms.
She stroked Caelan's head and smiled lovingly.
"Did Caelan have fun today?" Marry asked gently.
"Yes! Caelan played tag with the butterflies." Her round eyes sparkled. "The butterflies were all colourful, Mom."
"Caelan caught a red butterfly that landed on a rose. But the butterfly cried, Mom. So Caelan let it go," she said innocently.
"Good girl. You really are Mama's daughter," Marry praised, brushing her daughter's silver hair.
Clara stood beside the mother and her little girl. She smiled softly, watching how tenderly Marry cared for her child.
"Marry is still Marry… She was gentle with the silenced victims back then. And now she's gentle with her daughter. She hasn't changed, even if the world has," Clara thought.
Marry glanced at Clara, then looked at her daughter.
"Sweetheart, say goodbye to big sister Clara," Marry said.
"Goodbye, big sister Clara," Caelan said sweetly. "Tomorrow… play with Caelan again, okay?"
Clara smiled. "How could I refuse a girl as adorable as you? I promise I'll come again."
Clara stepped away from the door. She walked past the front of the house—then paused and looked back.
She saw little Caelan waving her small hand. Marry stood beside her, elegant and serene, offering a gentle nod and smile.
Clara smiled back and waved. Then she turned around and continued walking toward the village inn.
Along the path, she touched her chest—feeling the faint warmth there. A closeness and a quiet bond had begun to bloom between the three of them… and perhaps, it would become the beginning of a new story shared among them.