Seraphina slowed her steps a little, glancing back over her shoulder at Shiki and Ai. A small, amused smile tugged her lips as she caught sight of Ai clutching Shiki's arm possessively, cheeks pink, still glowing from the bold declaration Shiki had made to Sir Marcous just moments ago.
"Sir Shiki," Seraphina spoke, her tone refined yet teasing, "that was quite the spectacle. You stood tall for your wife and your kittten without even raising a blade. I must say, I'm impressed."
Lyra, beside her, bobbed her head quickly, voice light and almost shy. "Ajio-San really is cool… both of you, Ajio-San."
Ai's face burned hotter at the sound of Seraphina's words. "W-wife… Shiki's K-kitten?" she repeated, voice squeaky, burying herself further into Shiki's arm like she wanted to disappear into him.
Seraphina's emerald eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yes, Sir Shiki's Kitten suits you, doesn't it? You should be proud, Ai. You are lucky to have such a man stand by you."
"H-hh…" Ai made a tiny sound, her lips pressing together, then suddenly she squeezed Shiki's arm tighter, burying her face against his sleeve. "That's why… that's why I'm his… and I love him…!" Her voice, muffled but determined, made Shiki chuckle low in his chest.
He glanced down at her, smug smile playing on his lips. "Tch. You really know how to make a husband feel good, Kitten."
"Shi…Ki…" she whimpered softly, but there was happiness glittering in her eyes.
Lyra's cheeks warmed as she watched them. "…Ajio-San really are lovey-dovey…"
"Lovey-dovey, indeed." Seraphina agreed, a little grin curling on her lips as she turned her eyes forward again. "Now, let's not forget why we're here. The kidnapped girls. The first house is not far. Their daughter was only seven."
Ai stiffened, hugging Shiki's arm all the tighter, suddenly more serious.
The group soon reached the outskirts where the first family lived. The small, modest home had its shutters half-drawn, a stillness around it like grief hung in the air.
---
Inside a dark carriage rolling down another street, Marcous Malavo sat slouched against velvet cushions. His handsome blond features were twisted, not with charm, but with a dark scowl. His hand clenched the handle of his cane until his knuckles turned white.
"That bastard…" His voice was low, venomous, muttering to no one but himself. "…standing before me, mocking me. That girl. That girl with the black hair… she dares cling to him while I—"
His breath hitched, then turned into a low, manic chuckle. He leaned forward, his blue eyes glinting in the dark.
"…She'll be mine. Oh yes, she'll be mine. Once I drain her, her beauty will be mine. To ravish her, to consume her—she will scream for me, and then she will wither, and I will shine brighter than ever. Ha… haha… HAHAHA!"
The driver outside flinched at the laughter, but said nothing. Inside, Marcous's expression melted into pure madness. He licked his lips, whispering like a prayer:
"Kitten of Sir Shiki… you'll be next."
---
The four of them sat together on the couch across from the parents. The mother sat closest to Seraphina, her hands twisting over and over in her lap. Her eyes were red-rimmed from nights without sleep, the lines of worry etched deep around her mouth. Beside her, the father sat stiff-backed, trying with all his might to maintain dignity, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the weight pressing down on him.
Seraphina leaned forward slightly, her posture calm yet commanding. Her voice was measured when she began, though firm enough to leave no doubt she expected the truth.
"Thank you again for letting us into your home," she said. "I know speaking about this isn't easy, but anything you can tell us—no matter how small—may help us find your daughter."
The mother's throat worked as she swallowed, then nodded. "Of course… anything. Please, just bring her back to me." Her voice cracked on the last word.
Ai, sitting pressed against Shiki's arm, flinched faintly at the sound. His sleeve crumpled in her grip as she clutched it tighter. Shiki didn't move, but his hand shifted subtly, his fingers brushing against Ai's and tightening just enough to steady her. His eyes, though calm, held a sharp edge as they stayed on the couple.
Seraphina guided them carefully. "Let's start simple. Could you tell me her daily routine? What does she usually do on a normal day? Where does she spend her time?"
The mother nodded faintly, her eyes unfocused as if forcing herself to picture it. "She… she wakes early, always cheerful. She liked to run to the square and feed the birds. Sometimes she'd play with the neighbor's children—three boys, all older than her. She carried her wooden doll everywhere."
Lyra, seated quietly beside Seraphina until now, tilted her head. "A wooden doll? Handmade?"
The woman's eyes flickered toward her. "Yes. Her father carved it. She never left it behind. Wherever she went, the doll went too."
The father cleared his throat, speaking more firmly, though the edge of emotion was clear. "It was her treasure."
Seraphina inclined her head slightly, committing the detail to memory. "And after mornings in the square?"
"She would come home for lunch," the mother whispered, "and in the afternoons… she liked to wander a little. She'd go to the market sometimes, or sit by the fountain near the lion statue, watching the water."
"Did she ever leave the neighborhood?" Seraphina asked.
"Never," the father said immediately. "Not without us. We forbade it. She was too young."
Lyra spoke again, her voice softer this time. "Besides the neighbor's boys, were there any other friends?"
The mother hesitated, then sighed. "There was a girl her age, Liza. They played together often. But… Liza's family moved away three months ago."
"So she was more alone after that," Seraphina pressed gently.
"Yes," the mother admitted. "She tried to act brave, but I could tell she was lonely."
Seraphina's gaze softened briefly, though her voice remained steady. "Now, on the day she disappeared… please tell us everything you remember, from morning until the very last moment."
The room seemed to shrink. The silence pressed in until the mother's voice broke it. "That morning was normal. She fed the birds… then she came home. We had stew for lunch. She smiled, she laughed—she even asked for seconds." The woman's lips trembled as her voice faltered. "After that… she asked if she could go out again. Said she wanted to see the square, maybe the fountain. I let her go… she always came back before sunset. Always."
"Did she say she was meeting anyone?" Seraphina asked.
The mother shook her head. "No. She didn't."
But the father's expression darkened. "Later, we heard. From the neighbors, from whispers in the street."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you hear?"
He exhaled slowly, his shoulders tense. "They said she was seen speaking to Sir Marcous Malavo."
The name seemed to suck the air from the room. Ai stiffened beside Shiki, her wide eyes lifting toward him. Shiki's expression didn't change, but Ai felt the subtle tightening of his arm around her.
"The actor?" Lyra asked softly.
The mother's gaze dropped. "Yes. Him. He's… popular. Always surrounded by fans. They said he spoke kindly to her, smiled at her. And then… she wasn't seen again."
"Was that the first time?" Seraphina pressed.
The mother hesitated, then shook her head miserably. "No. She told me once before—a handsome man had given her a sweet. I thought nothing of it. Foolishly. I thought it was kindness. Just kindness."
Her voice broke again, her face burying in her hands.
"Did she describe him to you?" Seraphina asked.
The words came muffled through her palms. "Golden hair… bright blue eyes… tall, charming. She said he made her feel special."
"Special how?"
The mother's hands fell into her lap, trembling. "She said… he called her a precious little star. Said she was too beautiful to be ordinary. I scolded her for talking to strangers, but she insisted he was nice. She was seven—how could she know?"
The father spoke through clenched teeth. "They questioned him already. They said there was no proof. His fans defended him—called him pure, untouchable. A saint."
"Yes," Seraphina murmured. "The lack of evidence shields him. For now."
Lyra's eyes lingered on the woman. "Did she… ever talk about wanting to see him again?"
"She liked to watch his performances in the square," the mother said weakly. "She said his voice was like music. She was too young to understand admiration from affection."
"And the day she vanished?" Seraphina's voice sharpened.
The father's hand clenched against his knee. "A vendor said she left the square holding his hand. But later… he denied saying it. Too frightened, or bribed. Perhaps both."
The bitterness In his tone hung in the air.
Ai's voice broke through it gently. She leaned forward, her tone almost a whisper. "We'll bring her back. Please believe in us."
The mother blinked at her, startled, before tears welled again. "You're kind… thank you, Ma'am. Thank you."
It was then Shiki spoke, his voice low, steady, carrying the weight of steel. "We'll find her. That's a promise. No matter who we have to face."
The father's rigid composure cracked. His shoulders trembled, and he bowed his head. "Please… Sir… Ma'am… she is all we have. Our only child. Bring her back."
Slowly, Seraphina rose. Her expression was grave, her eyes sharp with resolve. "We will. Thank you for your honesty. We'll look into every detail. For now… rest, if you can. And hold onto faith."
The couple wept quietly together as the group stood. Ai clung to Shiki's arm as they turned toward the door, her face burying against him. Shiki's gaze lingered on the grieving parents, unreadable—except for the faint, dangerous glint in his eyes.
---
END OF CHAPTER : 38 : CLINGING ONTO THE LAST HOPE!
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