Very early this morning, Andoain left the Requiem Church alone without saying a word to anyone, leaving only a note behind. He walked through the streets of Laterano with immense familiarity, never pausing for a moment. It was clear that he knew these roads like the back of his hand.
However, his inner state was far from the calm he projected. On the contrary, his heart was a tempest of emotions. He never expected that a simple favor—delivering a letter for a friend—would lead him to a discovery significant enough to shake the very foundations of Laterano.
Lost in these thoughts, Andoain unconsciously arrived at a residential area. Perhaps because it was still so early, there were few pedestrians on the street. He stopped in front of a particular house but did not knock immediately. Instead, he took several deep breaths to restrain his emotions. He was worried his agitation might frighten the people inside, so he stood before the door for five minutes, forcing himself to regain his composure.
Once his heart rate had settled, Andoain knocked gently on the door.
Knock... knock... knock.
The three slow taps signaled that he was in no hurry. Yet, the person inside seemed to grow frantic upon hearing the unexpected sound. There was a noise like something breaking, followed by the hurried sounds of someone cleaning up. The clatter of objects being moved continued for some time.
"Feoria, it's me. If you broke something, there's no need to rush to the door."
Though he knew very well that the commotion inside wasn't just caused by a simple accident, Andoain spoke with his usual gentleness. Inside, the Sankta lady let out a sigh of relief upon hearing the familiar voice, though she continued to rustle about the room for a moment longer.
When she finally opened the door, her expression was a mixture of surprise and anxiety. She glanced around the street nervously before speaking.
"Andoain? Why have you come back at a time like this! Get inside quickly, don't let anyone see you!"
Feoria hurried him into the house, still worrying if any neighbors had spotted him. If it were a normal guest, she could have used any excuse, but Andoain was no ordinary person. She knew his identity; he was a wanted criminal with a file in the Notarial Hall. If he were discovered here, her family would be in massive trouble.
"Please remain calm, Ms. Feoria. I scouted the area before arriving; no one saw me. I still have some confidence in my counter-reconnaissance skills."
Andoain was used to this reaction; she had been in a similar state every time he visited. Originally, he thought she was merely afraid of the Notarial Hall or the Garrison surrounding the house. But today, he finally understood the true reason behind her extreme caution.
"Your husband asked me to deliver a letter to you. He said he is very sorry he cannot visit in person; there simply hasn't been an opportunity to meet lately."
Andoain's voice carried a genuine sense of apology, as if the words came directly from the longing husband rather than himself. He pulled an envelope from his pocket—the letter the man had entrusted to him. Feoria took it as if it were a priceless treasure, clutching it to her chest.
"You can read what your husband wrote first; I am in no hurry. May I use some hot water from the kitchen? I haven't had breakfast yet."
Andoain didn't plan on leaving immediately. He had come for more than just a delivery. With the hostess's permission, he took out some instant cocoa and a freshly baked croissant he'd bought on the street, eating slowly and methodically.
Feoria's heart was in turmoil as she read. Her husband had written that he had disclosed their most important "secret" to Andoain!
"Yes, I already know," Andoain said before she could even ask. "I wonder if I might see the 'miracle' that was supposed to be impossible?"
Felia remained silent for a long time, debating whether to reveal a secret she had guarded for years. She thought of how Andoain and his men had helped her selflessly over the years. Though she had tried to distance herself recently to protect her household, he still faithfully delivered her husband's letters from Kazdel.
The silence in the room became heavy enough to suffocate. Andoain began to wonder if he was being too cruel, pushing a mother to this point. Wasn't this exactly the kind of coercion he despised? Regardless of the child's origins, shouldn't he respect their choice? He felt trapped between his desire to see the child and his moral compass telling him not to pressure a woman who had already suffered so much.
Fortunately, the choice was made for him. Feoria walked into the bedroom, whispered to someone, and led a child out.
"This is the one you're looking for. Her name is Cecelia. Cecelia, don't be afraid. This uncle is a friend of your father's."
The little girl, Cecelia, was clearly shy. She hid behind her mother, peering timidly at the stranger. Her life had been spent largely within the walls of this small house, hidden from the world. Her mother never allowed her to speak to others; if guests came, she had to hide in a cupboard and remain silent. This wasn't out of cruelty, but protection. Her mother didn't want the world to know she existed.
The reason was her bloodline. This little Sankta girl with flaxen hair and a halo was the offspring of a Sankta and a Sarkaz.
Andoain knew that if handled a certain way, this girl could deal a devastating blow to the current foundations of Laterano. Every citizen knew that a Sankta crossing with another race could not produce a Sankta child—especially not with their mortal enemies, the Sarkaz!
"I don't know what your purpose is for seeking this child, but I hope it ends here. I don't want her caught in a vortex!" Feoria whispered once Cecelia had been sent back to her room to play.
"Please rest assured, Madame. Neither I nor my compatriots will use Cecelia for any agenda. I only wish for her to live a healthy and happy life."
Andoain made the promise with absolute sincerity. At the sight of the child, his previous strategic thoughts had vanished. He was willing to keep this secret for the sake of this struggling family.
"I will take my leave now. If you find it inconvenient to take the child to the festival, some of my people can assist you."
Before exiting, Andoain left her with a reminder. He knew that to avoid suspicion from neighbors, Feoria would have to attend the celebration, even if just for show. Leaving such a small child home alone would be dangerous.
"Fine. I will consider it. If I need help, I will find you at the Requiem Church."
Once Andoain left, Feoria let out a long breath. But a small voice from behind the door startled her.
"Mama... what is a 'festival'?"
The girl's voice was tiny, but Feoria turned back, wondering how she could possibly explain the world to her daughter.