Jeanne cast a sidelong glance at Cecilia, who was currently preoccupied with her marshmallow, and found herself unable to comprehend why a parent would hide a child's existence.
"This... I don't quite understand Laterano customs. In what situation would a parent feel the need to hide a child's birth?" Jeanne looked toward Lemuen, hoping for some local insight. Under normal circumstances, why wouldn't someone register their child? Having no identity would only cripple the girl's future.
Lemuen scratched her head. Truthfully, she had never encountered such a situation. She didn't have kids of her own, so why would she be an expert on household registration rules?
She pondered for a moment before speaking in a slow, uncertain tone. "There shouldn't be one. I don't recall any instance where registering a child in Laterano would cause problems."
When she had retrieved the file earlier, she had double-checked the "unregistered citizen" status. Her colleagues had told her that there hadn't been a "ghost citizen" case in Laterano for years. For a Sankta, failing to register meant forfeiting all citizen rights. Furthermore, Laterano didn't punish unwed mothers or single-parent households—such things weren't even rare here.
That was why she was so confused. Why hide the child? Lemuen's intuition, honed by years of Notarial Hall work, screamed that she had stumbled into something big.
"Whatever secret is behind this, it has nothing to do with the girl. She's just a child; she couldn't have any ill intentions," they whispered together, looking back at Cecilia. Finding the sisters looking at her, Cecilia tilted her head in confusion.
Right—whatever messy adult business was going on wasn't the child's fault. If they were still worried, they could just ask her mother once they found her.
"Um... did Cecilia do something wrong?" the girl asked timidly.
"Not at all. We're just thinking about where your mama might be."
Lemuen picked up Cecilia, marshmallow and all. The girl clearly cherished the treat, taking tiny, careful bites as if terrified it would disappear too quickly.
Suddenly, Cecilia froze, staring at her marshmallow in a daze. After a moment, as if a fragmented memory had finally clicked into place, she cried out in delight:
"I remember! The shop where Mama went to buy marshmallows had a super big one! I've never seen a marshmallow that big!"
A solid lead! Jeanne and Lemuen perked up. Lemuen, a fellow sweets enthusiast, knew the location of every notable stall in the district. After a moment of thought, she adjusted Cecilia in her arms and began walking. She had a few targets in mind.
"What? You want us to help find a kid? Damn it, do you [Laterano Slang] know how busy we are preparing for the operation?"
On the other side of the district, Feoria and the male Forte had found the group of Pathfinders. Upon hearing her request, several of them reacted with annoyance. They had been hauling explosives and equipment for half the day without so much as a drop of water. Why should they help a civilian find a child?
"Besides, if you lost a kid, go to the Notarial Hall. Since when do we do the work of those bureaucrats?"
The first to reject the request was Patia, whose temper was already fraying from their previous tactical failures. Not everyone here knew Feoria, and while they weren't heartless, the request felt absurdly ill-timed. If not for the fact that the Forte was a veteran who had followed the Leader for a long time, they would have chased Feoria away already.
"Her child's background is... special. We cannot let the Laterano authorities know about her! Besides, the Leader himself places great importance on that child."
The Forte's words caused a heavy silence to fall over the group. If there was one thing that could move these people, it was the mention of their Leader. They didn't doubt the Forte; he had been with Andoain for years and wouldn't lie about something this serious.
"Fine, I'll believe you for now... show us where she went missing. The rest of you, search our planned demolition zones—make sure the kid didn't wander into a blast site."
Patia, as the operational commander, saw the resolve in the Forte's eyes and decided to act. She took a few idle members with her to settle the matter quickly before the main operation began.
"Thank you... truly, thank you," Feoria stammered, overwhelmed with relief. She immediately led them toward the area where she and Cecilia had been separated.
"Save the pleasantries. Just keep a better eye on her next time," Patia said flatly. She just wanted this over with so they could focus on the mission.
While they were on the move, Jeanne and Lemuen were methodically checking every potential stall. In Laterano, making a "super-sized" marshmallow was a way for vendors to show off their skill and attract customers. Some of these masterpieces were as large as a beach umbrella.
Jeanne was currently stone-faced, finishing her eighth marshmallow. To confirm if Cecilia recognized a location, they had visited every nearby stall, and to avoid being a nuisance to the vendors, they bought something at every stop. Most of these ended up in Jeanne's stomach.
While sugar is good for energy, even Jeanne was starting to feel the strain. It was too sweet; she could practically feel her blood sugar grinning in malice.
"It's here! This is where I was waiting for Mama!" Cecilia stood by a lamppost, pointing with absolute certainty.
Thank God, Jeanne thought. The eight marshmallows hadn't been in vain. She wondered how Lemuen ate so much sugar and still looked completely fine.
In a nearby alley, Patia's group and Feoria spotted the little girl. Feoria gasped in joy and prepared to rush out, but Patia grabbed her arm, pulling her back.
"Wait. Look who's with her. The pink-haired one—she's from the Garrison!"
Patia recognized Lemuen now. They had crossed paths near the school earlier, but now that she looked closely, she remembered exactly who she was. Wasn't that woman supposed to be half-dead? How is she walking around and jumping about now?
But their attention was quickly pulled away from Lemuen's miraculous recovery. In that exact moment, the symbols of Cecilia's status as a Sankta—her halo and her wings—suddenly flickered and began to grow dim.