Her guard stood a few feet away when she glanced up. She wiped away the blood that dripped from her nose.

"You should let the King handle this, my Lady."

She shook her head slowly. "He wouldn’t believe me - he would just claim that I found a random woman on the road and made her confess."

His eyes softened. "But I believe you. And if I believe you, he will believe you."

She still wasn’t convinced.

"If I show him the bag of coin as well, he will believe me without a doubt." Her voice shook.

The woman looked between the two of them, trying to understand what was happening.

"Lead the way." She tugged on the woman’s hair.

The woman rose from the ground and began to walk across the farm with Claire in tow.

"What do you want to do with me now?"

Claire said nothing.

The woman was moving too slowly for her liking.

"Hurry along, I have a dress to buy."

The woman moved slightly faster, but the difference was negligible.

The woman finally stopped in front of a small rundown cottage with a chipped wooden door and a dirty-white picket fence.

"This is my home." She said, her voice small and frail.

"Shall we?" Claire nudged her gently.

The woman glanced over her shoulder with wide eyes. "You want to come in?"

Claire didn’t bother answering, she just nudged her again.

The woman pushed the fence aside and led the way. The door was smaller than usual so they had to duck to enter.

The interior was much neater and well kept than the exterior, she realized. And it smelled strongly of ginger and cinnamon. The smell of cinnamon reminded her of the old woman she had encountered in the woods. A small quilt laid on the floor to the side beside a rickety rocking chair. On the quilt was a little girl covered up to her chin with her eyes closed tightly as if she were in pain even whilst asleep.

The windows were all shut to keep out the breeze, so most of the light came in through the open door.

A woven basket containing a pile of garments stood at the corner, and beside it was the huge bag of coin the woman had mentioned.

She glanced at the woman briefly before looking around. That’s when she saw the little boy lying in a similar quilt by an unlit fireplace, shivering despite his blanket. His eyes were shut just as tightly as the girl’s.

So she hadn’t been lying, her children were very sick.

"Where is your husband?"

The woman turned to look her, tears clouding her vision.

"He died three years ago - the healer said his heart gave out because he always overworked himself." Then she gave Claire a fond smile as she stared blankly ahead. "He loved his farm so much... it was his pride and joy. And it killed him." Her expression became bitter as she said the last part.

When Claire glanced behind her, she saw her guard still standing outside the door.

The children needed their mother more than she needed Yeren’s forgiveness and approval. And they clearly needed the money.

Because she had lived in poverty, she understood perfectly what it felt like to live the way the woman did.

Slowly, she began to back away.

She couldn’t destroy the lives of two children for justice, no matter how much the woman deserved it.

Then she went out the door. The woman rushed after her.

"You don’t want the money anymore?" She fell on her knees behind Claire and clutched her dress.

"Thank you for forgiving me, my Lady. It was not my intention to harm you or your child."

Claire pulled her already torn dress out of the woman’s grip. "I haven’t forgiven you... I’m not sure I ever can. But," She looked down at the woman. "I won’t take you away from your children when they need you the most. I know what that feels like." Her hand instinctively touched her stomach. She felt pain there... but it was distant, as if it were in someone else’s body instead of hers.

"Thank you for having mercy on me. May the good Goddess bless you, my Lady."

Tears of joy began to stream down the woman’s face.

She was just doing it for her children, Claire consoled herself. She knew she would do anything for Aurora - her love had no limits.

Claire turned and walked away. She didn’t know where she was going, but she kept going nonetheless.

She had looked into the eyes of the person who had taken her child’s life and had done... nothing.

She just... walked away.

How would she prove her innocence to Yeren now?

The tears she had been holding in began to flow freely down her cheeks.

Her guard laid a hand on her shoulder and she stopped moving all together. Then he handed her a handkerchief. She took it and as she struggled to whisper her appreciation, she burst into more tears.

Claire finally let herself cry like a little child.

Fate hated her.

Yeren despised her.

Passers-by were staring at her but she couldn’t help herself.

Then her olive-skinned guard picked her up and carried her to the carriage.

She was surprised that he knew the way back to the carriage after all the twists and turns the woman had taken them through.

It was parked exactly where she had left it.

He set her down at the door and she quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve before opening the door.

The sight before her stole the breath out of her lungs.

"Aurora!"

Both of them jerked.

Arlan’s had had been underneath her sister’s skirt.

"What in the world were you two doing?"

She climbed into the carriage.

Her sister flushed crimson while Arlan paled.

"He wanted to show me something he saw his father doing." Her sister said.

She pulled her sister into her embrace and glared at Arlan.

"She’s just ten! I don’t know or care what you saw, but leave my sister alone. Do you hear me?"

He said nothing. His eyes remained glued to the floor of the carriage box.

"Do you hear me, Arlan?"

He finally looked up at her but the look in his eyes chilled her to the marrow of her bones.

She had seen that same look in his father’s eyes...

"I love Aurora and nothing would ever separate us. Not even you."