try begging
Anyway, I was on my way back from staying in the capital for a week because of that damn clown show. I had no recollection of the award ceremony, the palace, or the way the king looked at me.
While the tedious meal was being held in the crowded hall, he was lost in his own disorganized and ugly thoughts.
I wonder if she's listening to the radio broadcast somewhere. She'll definitely see my picture in the newspaper.
And sometimes I was overcome by the urge to look around the crowd and find a face that didn't belong there.
dripping.
Suddenly, a knock on the door of the next room echoed through the walls. The voices that had been going on for hours on end beyond the thin wall suddenly stopped. And soon, someone knocked on the door of this room.
"dismissal."
The door opened, guarded by soldiers outside, and his face revealed itself to be that of his personal attendant, Pierce.
"We will be arriving at Winsford Central Station shortly. For safety reasons, disembark only after all passengers have disembarked..."
Leon turned his head toward the window, waving his hand at Pierce, who was already talking nonsense. As soon as the attendant, who had hesitated for a moment, left and closed the door, the train slowed down and the gray platform came into view.
The platform was lined with private soldiers sent by the headquarters for security. When the train stopped, five or six of them ran over. While the soldiers were guarding the door of the compartment where Count Winston was sitting, the platform became crowded with passengers getting on and off.
After about ten minutes, a whistle blew and the doors of other compartments closed simultaneously. Only then did the soldier outside knock politely on the door, and the Count appeared outside the train.
Elizabeth pursed her lips as she tried to follow Jerome down. It was a habit she had when she was displeased.
Leon, who had been sitting alone in the next car saying he had to work, was already outside and standing on the platform.
'That kid doesn't even know how to hold his mother's hand like a gentleman... Anyway, soldiers are like that.'
Elizabeth was quite upset that the scene of her getting off the train holding the hand of her eldest son, who had become a count, was captured by photographers gathered on the platform and published in the next day's newspaper. She had been secretly hoping for such a coincidence, so she felt quite upset.
Her oblivious son was standing alone in the midst of the camera flashes. But what was he doing? Leon's gaze was not on the camera, but somewhere else.
Missing person.
Leon couldn't take his eyes off those three letters. On the platform pillars were posted flyers for missing persons, alongside flyers asking for information on the remnants of the Blanchard rebels.
Mid to late 20s. Blue-green eyes. Small mole under left eye. Slim build. Expecting to give birth in May.
Flyers looking for women were posted on every pillar. It was only natural that they were scattered all over the kingdom.
On the streets, they personally posted missing person flyers, but at border checkpoints and ports, they issued a wanted notice in the name of the Army Headquarters on the day she went missing. She might try to go to her aunt overseas.
Probably pretty soon.
Based on the testimony of the leaders, he estimated the amount of money the woman had taken from the safe. If she had fled alone without any connections or helpers, it would have been a few months before she would have run out of money. And by late spring, she would need a lot of money.
So they put out warrants for pawn shops, jewelers, and even thieves.
Wanted for the ring, not the woman.
The calculation was that the woman who failed to escape overseas would try to sell the ring he gave her to raise money for childbirth expenses. Since she was full-term, she would not be able to go far, so if we narrowed the net to the area and thoroughly searched the hospitals and maternity homes, we could catch her.
He warned the woman in his head, his gaze fixed on the word "turquoise eyes" rather than the name or picture on the flyer.
You probably don't know that you'll be caught in a few months anyway. Stop the unnecessary suffering. Just give up your stubbornness and come back quietly.
It occurred to me that perhaps he was hiding because he was afraid of the retribution he would inflict on him. Perhaps he should have written at least a kind word on the leaflet.
Normally, this would have been a moment of ridicule, but Leon's face remained stiff.
As a month passed, my stomach would have gotten bigger and my body would have gotten heavier. I vaguely remembered reading in a book that this was when I started to feel tired because of the weight.
And it was at a time when he had already felt the fetus move.
He began to feel strange stares. Leon took his eyes off the leaflet with only words and walked into the train station. But his thoughts were still lingering on that one insignificant piece of paper.
The damn flyer had nothing but a description, no name, no picture. It was a choice made out of necessity, in case the gang found out that the woman was on the run and it would be dangerous.
Even though he knew it wouldn't attract much public attention, he distributed leaflets labeling her as a missing person rather than a criminal, purely for her safety. If they found out that she was a rebel on the run, some idiot with an unnecessary sense of justice might harm her.
The most prominent thing written on the leaflet was a bounty. It offered an amount equivalent to two years' salary for a middle-class father, but for some reason, not a single credible tip has yet been received.
Leon, who was heading to the train station lobby surrounded by attendants and soldiers, suddenly closed his eyes tightly.
Is it true that you are alive?
Leon knew very well that the woman would not take her own life. She was a woman with an extraordinary obsession with life. Judging from the fact that she ran away with money and weapons, it was clear that she had no intention of giving up on life.
But why is there no sign of life?
His obsession with finding that woman soon turned into a sense of desperation to find even a trace of her. As time went by, his wish became more and more humble.
The moment I entered the lobby, the sound of camera shutters and cheers poured out like a blast.
"Your Majesty, please take a look here too!"
"Don't push! Go back!"
The lobby of the train station was also swarmed with citizens and reporters like ants. Security personnel pushed back the crowd that kept coming in, clearing the way for Winston Street to pass.
Despite feeling like a clown, Leon didn't really hurry his steps. Instead, he would occasionally stop in the midst of the flash and stare at the camera until his vision went completely black.
From that day until now, I have repeated the same thoughts that I have been tired of whenever I stand in front of the camera.
This photo, she will see it in the newspaper.
Should I laugh or not? What expression should I make to make you come back?
Should I pretend to be pitiful? Should I shed tears? Should I write a letter telling her to come back immediately and give her some advice?
He still hasn't found the answer. He doesn't know her anymore.
A white limousine was parked in the square in front of the train station. It was obvious that the mother's vanity had inspired her to repaint the car in a striking color, even though it had been ordered in black only two months earlier.
And what's with the fact that they decorated the car with ribbons and flags? It seemed like they thought they were having a parade.
'You're doing something useless.'
It was a difficult ride through Winsford in a ridiculous limousine. The eyes of the crowds going to and from the theater district were drawn in this direction during the evening. The carriage ahead stopped at the side of the road, and as Leon's car passed by, the coachman lifted his hat and saluted him.
Leon snatched the cane from Jerome, who was sitting across from him. He tapped the ivory tip on the window between the driver's seat and the back seat, and the driver, who had been blaring his horn ostentatiously for a moment, turned around.
"Stop it."
As soon as it became quiet, Leon threw the cane back at his brother and closed his eyes.
"Why do you look like that? Anyway, soldiers are..."
There was another reason why the ride by car was difficult. Even if I had to use work as an excuse to ride in a different car from my mother, I had no choice but to ride in the car with her.
"Try to behave like a great general."
Leon's brow furrowed. The word triumph meant he had returned victorious from battle. He had lost. Badly. So the grand welcome felt like a mockery.
"I still have a long way to go before I become a general."
"Oh, my. Don't say such ominous things, Jerome. It's horrible to think of your brother wearing a military uniform until he hears the word general."
Leon, who was still silent with his eyes closed, was called by his mother who was sitting next to him.
"Leon, you have your title back and have avenged your father. Now, quit the military."
"You decided not to bring up that story anymore, right?"
"I'm saying this with you in mind."
Mother added a word in a sharp voice.
"It is said that the original rule was to leave when applause was given."
Leon gritted his teeth at those words.
Who doesn't know that? I wanted to do that.