While Ruelle and Hailey waited at one of the stalls as the food was being prepared, Ruelle wandered to a nearby stall and decided to buy things from there.

Once the food was handed, Hailey spoke cheerfully but Ruelle found herself only half listening. The fortune teller’s words did not leave Ruelle’s mind even after they walked away from the stall. They lingered like a faint echo, repeating themselves until her head began to ache.

Darkness is going to descend.

She did not know how much worse fate still intended to make things.

By the time they returned to the others, the food they had bought was long gone, leaving only the warmth of it in their hands against the cold air.

Edward noticed at once that Ruelle was holding a small cloth bag. Curious, he asked,

"Did you buy something? You should have told Hermes to go with you and to pay for it."

Ruelle held out her hand, and the prince looked at her quizzically. Resting on her palm was a simple wristband made of blue thread with several small stones woven into it.

"It’s a wristband," she said. "For you."

Edward’s eyes widened slightly. He looked at the band, then at her, as if unsure what he was supposed to do.

When he did not say anything, Ruelle wondered if perhaps he did not like it, as it wasn’t expensive. She said, "It is alright if you do not like it."

But Edward quickly took the wristband from her hand and slipped it onto his wrist. He muttered, "It is not particularly impressive, but I suppose I can wear it."

Ruelle explained, "The blue stones are meant to bring prosperity and long life."

Utterly touched, Edward turned slightly and whispered to his attendant, "You heard that, Hermes? I got a special gift."

Edward’s eyes then fell on Hailey’s wrist, and he noticed she was wearing a band similar to his, only hers was yellow. Before he could say anything, Ruelle reached into the small cloth bag again and handed another band to Kevin and then one more to Hermes.

"For me?" Hermes looked surprised as he accepted it. "It is my favourite colour, Miss Ruelle," he said with a smile. He had barely finished speaking when he noticed the prince staring at him. He immediately stopped smiling.

Edward looked from Hermes’ wrist... to Kevin’s... to Hailey’s... and then slowly back to his own.

There was a long pause.

"...Ruelle," Edward said at last, "how many of these did you buy?"

"Six of them. The shopkeeper gave it for a good price," Ruelle replied with a smile.

So he had been clubbed with six people, Edward thought to himself dryly. He murmured, "...Mine is still the best one."

Far from where Ruelle and her friends stood among the lantern-lit stalls, Ezekiel and Caroline walked along a quieter stretch of the fair, where the crowd had begun to thin.

They had just passed one of the shops when a gunny bag slipped from a man’s hands and split open as it struck the ground. Onions spilled across the frozen ground, rolling in different directions. And one of them rolled toward Caroline before she could step away. Her foot stepped on it and the next second she slipped and fell on the ground.

"Ugh!" Caroline winced, the breath knocked out of her as her palms stung.

"Forgive me, miss! The gunny bag suddenly tore open. Are you alright?" the man asked, hurrying toward her.

Ezekiel quickly bent down beside her and helped her sit up, his hand steady on her arm. He asked her, "Did you hurt yourself?" He offered his hand to help her up.

Caroline placed her hand in his and tried to stand, but the moment she put weight on her foot, a sharp pain shot through her ankle and she cried out, her fingers tightening around his sleeve.

"I can’t," she winced, shaking her head. "I think I hurt my ankle."

Ezekiel immediately bent down and examined her foot, his hand careful but firm as he pressed lightly along the side of her ankle.

The moment he pressed one spot, Caroline cried out and pulled her foot back.

"No!... I can’t believe this happened," she said in frustration, turning to glare at the man with the torn gunny sack as if it were somehow his fault.

With Ezekiel’s help, she managed to stand, but the moment she tried to take a step, she faltered and had to lean heavily on him. She could barely put any weight on her injured foot without pain shooting up her leg.

At that moment, Ezekiel’s eyes moved and stared at a distance. Not far from them, half-hidden among the moving crowd and lantern light, he caught sight of the debt collectors. Their eyes moved slowly through the fair as if searching for him.

"I am sorry," Caroline apologised with disappointment. "Our time here has been cut short."

Ezekiel lifted his hand and placed it gently against the side of her face, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheek. He smiled at her, but there was something thoughtful in his eyes now.

"Not at all," he said softly. "You are going to have a much better time than today. I promise. Why don’t you wait here? I will bring the carriage around."

Caroline did not understand why his words made her feel strangely uneasy. The moment he turned his back, she reached out and caught his hand.

"Let us go together," she said. "We can catch the carriage right there in the parked space."

Ezekiel’s hand tightened slightly in hers before he turned back to look at her. For a brief moment, something unreadable passed across his face. He began,

"But you will have to walk longer. It—"

"You can carry me," Caroline proposed shyly. She looked at him with an expectant expression before slowly winding her arms around his neck.

Ezekiel carried her carefully in his arms as he made his way toward the quieter edge of the fair, away from the crowd.

To anyone watching, he looked like a devoted husband, carrying his injured wife with patience and care. But in his mind he was close to strangling her himself.

He had to return and find the debt collectors again. Everything had been arranged, and yet this foolish accident had ruined the timing. If he left her at the carriage and went back, questions would be asked. If he stayed with her, the opportunity would be lost.

His jaw tightened slightly.

Caroline shifted in his arms, her hand resting against his shoulder, trusting, unaware. She heard him asked,

"Do you need some water? It will help reduce the pain."

Caroline shook her head. "No. Hopefully with a little rest, I should feel better soon. Let us go home."

And while Ezekiel deliberately slowed his steps, speaking to the coachman and taking time to have Caroline inside the carriage, his eyes kept drifting back toward the fair, waiting for the debt collectors’ men to notice him and follow.

But the men had moved in another direction.

By the time the Henley couple stepped into the carriage and it began to roll out of the town, Ezekiel realised with a tightening jaw that the timing had slipped out of his hands.

Back at the fair, four men stood near the food stalls, their eyes scanning the crowd. One of them, a thick-bearded man, spat to the side and muttered, "Where is the man? He said to meet at the food stalls. I don’t see him."

"I haven’t seen him yet either," another replied, his voice rough as his gaze moved over the crowd. Then his eyes stopped. "Isn’t that her? Harold’s daughter?"

The bearded man followed his gaze and saw Ruelle sitting on the bench, surrounded by people. He replied, "That’s her... But why the hell is she surrounded? I thought he said the woman would be alone."

"Is she the right one?" another asked. "If I remember—"

"Shut up and let me think," the bearded man snapped. His eyes did not leave Ruelle. "Harold Belmont thinks he can disappear without settling his debt. That bastard sold the house that was supposed to be mine. We’ll take the daughter instead. Let him come crawling when he hears what happens to her."

The bearded man turned his head slightly and called, "Garron."

"Yeah?" the man asked, stepping closer. The bearded man whispered something and the man let out a short chuckle.

"Of course." He then jerked his head at another man, and the two of them began to move through the crowd, splitting apart as they moved closer to where Ruelle was in different directions.

At the bench, Ruelle watched the crowd moving past them for a while before she turned slightly toward Edward. She asked him,

"Did you enjoy the fair?"

Edward did not answer immediately as he was busy adjusting his moustache again, which had begun to peel at one corner. He then answered, "I did. Though we must visit when there are fewer people... I will host a fair," he decided.

At that moment, Ruelle noticed a little girl standing a short distance away, turning in slow circles as she looked around the fair, her eyes wide and anxious. Hermes seemed to notice too and he frowned. He murmured,

"It seems the child has been separated from her parents. We should help her look for the parent."

"This is exactly why children should be tied to their parents in crowded places," Edward shook his head with a sigh.

Meanwhile, the little girl slowly walked closer, her small hands clenched in the fabric of her dress. She stopped beside Ruelle and lightly held the back of her coat.

"Mama?" she whispered again.

Ruelle’s expression softened and she asked gently, "Are you looking for your mother?" The little girl’s lips trembled.

"She was with me," she said. "But then she disappeared."

Ruelle and Hailey exchanged a quick glance. "How about we help you find her?" Ruelle asked. The little girl nodded quickly and reached for Ruelle’s hand.

At the same time, a group of young men pushing through the crowd stumbled near the bench, each holding a wooden cup of liquor. They were laughing about something, not looking where they were going. One of them bumped into the other, and the drink in his hand spilled forward, straight onto Edward’s head.

Ruelle noticed Edward’s false moustache immediately tilt to one side under the flow of liquor before it fell off.

"...do you have any idea how long it took to put this on properly?" Edward asked, as he slowly wiped the liquid from his face with his hand and looked up at the man with a scowl.

"It is just a little alcohol," one of the men said with a mocking laugh. "You should be happy you get to smell it, beggar."

For a moment, Edward went very still. Hermes saw the change in the prince’s expression and said quietly, "Your—" He stopped himself. "Sire, let it go..."

"Is that so?" Edward questioned the man as he stood up. He then said, "Then you should be happy about this."

Ruelle barely saw Edward move before the man collapsed to the ground. For a second, everyone around them froze.

Then the fallen man’s companion shouted, "You bastard!" and jumped on Edward, knocking him to the ground.

"Get off him!" Hermes moved forward immediately, trying to pull the man away, but the crowd had already begun to gather, some shouting, some laughing, some trying to see what was happening.

Someone else joined the fight just for the excitement of it, grabbing Edward by the shoulder. Kevin tried to pull that man back, but another pushed into him from the side. In a matter of seconds, everything turned into a chaotic mess as more drunken men joined in the fight, shouting and laughing as if it were a game.

Wanting to stop the fight before it grew worse, Ruelle looked around desperately and caught Claude’s eyes across the crowd. The coachman understood immediately and without a word, he rushed to help.

As if startled by the sudden shouting and movement, the little girl began to cry loudly, her small hands clinging to Hailey’s sleeve and holding Ruelle’s hand. Ruelle moved a few steps away from the fight to calm the girl.

Back at the fight, Edward, despite his attire, moved with surprising precision. One by one, the drunken men who joined the fight were knocked back just as quickly, to the growing shock of the onlookers.

"Your— Sire, please be careful!" Hermes fretted while trying to pull one of the men away from Kevin.

Not noticing Claude had stepped in to help, Edward turned and punched toward him as well, only for the coachman to catch his fist mid-air. Edward blinked.

"Oh. It is you," he muttered.

Claude released his hand calmly and moved past the prince to pull the other men off. Edward looked around at the unconscious and groaning men on the ground and clicked his tongue in irritation.

"It has been a while since I last had a proper fight," Edward remarked, adjusting his moustache back and then he questioned, "Hm? Where did Ruelle go?"

Claude’s movement paused, and his head snapped to turn back. He looked around once, then again before colour drained from his face.