Chapter 139

 

* * *

 

“Surely the lost child can’t be a boy around ten years old?”

“Eh…? Is it a child you two know?!”

Wendel asked in surprise.

Even without that, the old woman had urgently pleaded, “Perhaps the child may have come here.”

Of course, while Wendel had nodded solemnly to her words, he did not truly believe the old woman.

“I…I…”

Seeming to recall something, Melody urgently called out to Claude.

“I told the child I was staying at this mansion!”

When the boy had worried over her lost  shoe, she had said:

“There are still a few spare  shoes for me back at the Briggs mansion.”

The bright child may have casually relayed Melody’s offhand comment to the old woman – that the person who found his  shoe resided at the Briggs mansion.

“Was the old woman alone in searching for the child?”

At Claude’s shout, the now wary Wendel Benton nodded to a nearby servant.

“Send the servants out to the village immediately.”

“Also prepare a carriage. I’ll go take a look in the village as well.”

“Yes!”

A swiftly prepared carriage began carrying Claude and Melody away.

“To have gone missing… But where to?”

Melody tightly clasped her hands, considering where the child could have gone.

Of course, the first place that came to mind was the southern bridge, where the boy had continuously made his wish these past days.

The two leapt out from the carriage stop and ran towards the bridge.

Though they carried umbrellas, the rain was so heavy they were practically useless.

“No one here.”

Claude surveyed the surroundings before giving a small shake of his head. It seemed he too had thought they might find August here.

“Could he have gone to Prince Samuel’s estate? Perhaps longing to meet his father…”

“That’s unlikely.”

If the old woman knew the child had gone missing, she would have checked there first.

By now, Prince Samuel himself may be desperately scouring the rain in search of his son.

“For him to disappear in weather like this… Just why…”

Melody forlornly gripped her umbrella tighter. The swollen river beneath the bridge fiercely flowed.

“…?”

Then something at the edge of Melody’s vision caught her eye.

A spot where several protruding rocks disrupted the water’s flow.

Beneath those rocks, tangled among trailing river plants, a small boy was precariously leaning against the boulder.

“Young master!”

Melody urgently pointed to where the boy was.

Realizing the situation, the two immediately cast aside their umbrellas and began running.

The fierce currents looked ready to swallow up the child at any moment.

Sliding down the slippery riverbank, Claude plunged straight into the water without hesitation.

“W-wait a moment!”

Melody called out, thinking they should at least take a rope or something.

“There’s no time, Melody! Go call for anyone you can!”

The waters that had only reached knee-height earlier were now up to Claude’s thighs.

Moreover, this was a section where the river narrowed, making the currents particularly strong.

Melody watched Claude advance with bated breath before finally turning away.

Merely watching from here would be of no help.

She ran down the street, shouting loudly.

“A child has fallen into the river! Please help!”

But her cries were drowned out by the heavy rain, and there were hardly any people around.

“Please…!”

Then she happened to run into a man, frantically grabbing his arm and pleading – a village child had fallen into the river, please help.

Driven by urgency, Melody tugged on his arm and began running back before even finishing her appeal.

Fortunately, the man did not shake off her grasp.

In fact, he took a few steps ahead to ask her for the direction, and upon Melody pointing towards Claude and the child, he immediately dashed that way without further delay.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Claude Baldwin was struggling mightily against the fierce currents.

He had managed to reach August’s location, but the waters only grew stronger as he tried to return.

“August.”

Claude looked down at the boy clinging to his arm.

In truth, he had disliked this child’s existence from the moment he learned of it – perhaps because Melody spoke of him as someone so important, which somehow irked Claude.

“Y-Yes, yes.”

The boy seemed to instinctively understand that Claude was essentially his lifeline, gripping his arm with considerable force.

Yet with his other hand, he clutched a single white  shoe.

‘Melody’s  shoe… it seems he found the one caught in the river plants.’

Claude couldn’t help but feel amused.

Even in this situation, he reached out to stroke the boy’s pink hair.

It was rather endearing how he refused to give up searching for her shoe.

“The water has deepened, so it would be better if I carry you.”

“B-But…”

“Wasting time will only become more dangerous. Come here.”

He lowered his waist and swiftly lifted the boy up.

“If w-we hold hands, I-I can walk without being carried…”

“Your light weight would make you get swept away. You don’t want to lose that  shoe you just found again, do you?”

At Claude’s point, the boy stopped squirming and obediently stilled, gripping the  shoe even tighter instead.

“Good.”

Claude briefly praised him, and the boy leaned his full weight against Claude’s body in response.

Claude immediately began walking, carefully navigating as the waters had already risen past his waist.

“Ugh!”

Suddenly a powerful surge rushed by, nearly making his legs buckle.

He barely managed to regain his balance, the harrowing near-fall leaving his head reeling dizzily.

Struggling to properly lift his feet from the riverbed, he took another step forward.

While he knew they needed to escape from here as soon as possible, reckless movements were impossible for fear of the currents sweeping them away.

What became of himself did not particularly concern Claude.

What truly frightened him was how deathly cold the boy felt in his arms.

Despite being pressed together, August trembled uncontrollably, his chin and shoulders visibly shaking.

If the worst happened and they required rescue again… Claude could not guarantee the boy’s body would withstand it.

Biting his lip, Claude forced his legs to keep moving, tightening his hold around August’s freezing frame.

Though he had barely moved, his breathing grew labored from the ceaseless battering of the currents.

“Damn it.”

Perhaps for the first time in his life, Claude uttered a coarse expletive.

He could not endure without doing so. But simultaneously, he felt the ground suddenly give way beneath his feet.

“…Gah!”

Of course it would be at the deepest point that his body tilted and was promptly swept away by the flow.

The deafening rush of water roared painfully in his ears.

It did not last long, however.

Soon his ears grew completely muffled and his vision turned pitch black, as if sucked into another world within an instant.

Claude extended his legs but felt no surface beneath. Had they been fully submerged? As dread surged through him…

A white puff of August’s breath drifted up through the water from the boy cradled in Claude’s arms.

Following it, Claude instinctively thrust one arm upwards.

“…!”

His fingers grasped onto something.

The moment he gripped it tightly, his body began gradually being pulled back towards the surface.

What Claude had grabbed was a rope, hastily brought by villagers alerted to the situation.

With their combined efforts, Claude and August were swiftly hauled out of the river.

The instant they reached shore, Claude swaddled the boy’s drenched body and hair in a coat someone handed him.

The young men who had assisted came running over, extending their arms – likely to take the child.

But Claude continued holding August against him for a moment longer.

Then the man at the rear end of the rope line came dashing over, his face ashen with terror.

Claude gave him a small nod before handing over the boy.

“Take him.”

Even in his frantic state, the man carefully studied Claude’s gaze, a hint of fear mingled within.

“Quickly now.”

Claude extended the boy bundled snugly in the coat to conceal his pink hair.

Still shivering uncontrollably, the child’s hands remained clutching the white  shoe.

Claude gently placed it in the boy’s grasp as well before sending him off.

“…Thank you.”

Cradling the child, the man immediately took off running, the old woman with an umbrella following close behind.

“Whew.”

Letting out a deep exhale, Claude sank down on the spot for a moment, his legs apparently having given out.

Soon an umbrella was held over his head – it was Wendel Benton.

Claude wanted to ask about Melody’s whereabouts, but the words would not come out.

He merely hung his head, gasping for breath, his lips trembling from the cold.

Thump.

Someone then draped a warm blanket over his shoulders.

“Young master!”

At the familiar voice, Claude lifted his head to find Melody clutching the blanket, her face only inches away as she regarded him with a conflicted gaze of both worry and anger.

Seeing her expression, he inexplicably felt like smiling – perhaps out of relief at last.

“Please don’t be angry.”

When he said those words, her face only grew more deeply furrowed.

Oh dear, it seemed he had angered her again.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Melody abruptly pulled him into a tight embrace.

Relishing the warmth against his frozen cheeks, Claude closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it.

‘Strange, this Melody.’

She worries yet grows angry, grows angry yet worries after all.

‘…But that’s what makes her endearing.’

With a faint smile, Claude leaned his weight against her for now.