Before the break of dawn --
No, even before the servants in the kitchen could finish their late night meals, Ilya found the right answer to her dilemma. The maid had already left the basement a couple of minutes ago, so she was free to do anything within her means.
'I guess there's no helping myself. It seems that the deities took pity on me. I can only return the favour soon.'
Ilya stood up, her gaze lingering on her closed door. Hours prior, she had no thought of crossing that very passageway. She was even afraid of it, like it was the mouth of the devil.
But now, she could only look at it as a piece of wood that dared hold her back.
'Return the favour… return the… favour. The demons are on me. The demons are going to kill me. What should I do? Fight, run, or die? Fight, run, or die?'
If anyone could hear her thoughts, they would wonder why she was humming. She was so jovial that no one would think that her life was hanging on the thinnest of threads. A noble lady of her age should be worrying about changing her wardrobe to fit the trend, not how to evade a death sentence.
Then again, it was Ilya.
There was much more to her suffering than one could count.
Ilya gasped as she felt the touch of the winter air. A second later, she began to laugh, painfully maniacal. Her appearance was the complete opposite of her submissive self. Ilya clutched her stomach, the sound of her laughter echoing loudly in her room. Soon, she stopped and straightened her body.
The light on Ilya's eyes was… uncanny? Wicked? Or perhaps, spiteful? Even Ilya herself didn't know.
Without a word, she made her way towards the corner of her room where a pile of sacks were gathered. She stooped down and put her hand at the bottom of the pile. As she pulled her hand out, a small wooden box could be seen in her grip.
'Box, box, it's a treasure! I found a treasure! My one and only. Something that I can call mine. This box is mine.' Ilya sang in her head as she stood up while observing the box.
It was a box the size of her palm, with a metal lock in the front. Withal, the lock wasn't as simple as it looked. Rather than a key, the metallic lock could only be opened through a certain method. Regrettably, Ilya wasn't sentient of it.
Well, it didn't matter to Ilya at all. The important thing was that it was still in her hands. In that wise, with the outfit she had worn for a couple of days, Ilya finally went outside of her room.
Skipping all the way up, Ilya was crooning a familiar melody. The coldness of the ground seemed to be of no bother to her. Much to the relief of her sleeping conscience, no one was able to witness her exit from the Rohonda building.
Without wasting a beat, Ilya went in the direction of the main mansion. She could care less about the murmurings of the people who were still inside. Her only goal was the fountain behind the mansion. She had always admired the beauty of that fountain, so she wanted to take one last look at it.
'Fountain! Water, splashing around. If there's a chance, I'll bathe in its splendour.'
It didn't take Ilya that long to reach the fountain. At that moment, nobody was within the vicinity of the garden. The cold was biting and it was dark. The sight wasn't worth seeing for the nobles who were busy talking regarding politics.
Ilya stood afore the tall structure of the fountain.
The circumference was made of marble, sculpted in order to give birth to cherubs playing instruments. Meanwhile, the main attraction was the golden sculpture right in the middle.
The sculpture was commissioned from the most renowned sculptor at present, Berholen Schame, and he claimed it as one of his masterpieces. It was a sculpture of a bare-skinned woman who was clutching the head of a lioness. She held it so high for everyone to see her prowess. From the mouth of the dead lioness was where the water was coming out.
'The lioness was slain, but the heroine was a snake! Bad, bad heroine! Heroine should be slain!'
As if she was being antagonized, the lady glared at the golden eyes of the sculpture.
'Bad, bad heroine. Heroine should be slain.'
It might be because she had been repeating it tens of times in her head, Ilya was now whispering her song.
"Bad, bad heroine. Heroine should be slain. Heroine is the snake! Bad, bad heroine. Heroine should be slain."
All the while she was singing, Ilya approached the border of the fountain. She then held out her hand -- the one holding the box -- and let it hover the water for nearly a minute.
"Heroine should be punished!"
At that point, Ilya let go of the box. She watched it sink to the bottom of the fountain which was three meters deep.
"Heroine will be punished! Bad, bad heroine."
Ilya ended her song with a smile. She then turned around and faced the lively mansion.
"I'll come back soon. Please wait for me, my dear family."
Thriving in the dark that she so loved, Ilya departed from the estate. As for her destination, only she would know. If anything, no one should be aware of where she was planning to go.
~~~
Like clockwork, chaos ensued in the Duchy three months later. Before they enacted their plan, the Duchess wanted to imprison Ilya to guarantee their victory. After all, if the Royals discovered the existence of the rightful heir to the Duchy, they would redact their support for Horen. They would be castigated for the maltreatment as well.
Lamentably for the furious Duchess, Ilya was long gone from the estate. She made use of all the resources at the Duke's disposal to create a search party. But to no avail, not a hair strand of Ilya was seen.
It was too late for her to scour the Empire for the lady.
Ilya might have even reached the border already, yet Sorsiana had no way of knowing that.
Every information, small or big, the Duchess, together with the Duke, would make sure to verify them. Horen, on the other hand, did his best to hold his head high. He forced himself to believe that nothing was wrong, leaving the task of finding Ilya to her mother.
As for the rest of the Ducal children, they weren't made aware of the incident. The two remained oblivious of the mayhem that Ilya had caused until they found it out themselves.
From that point on, the members of the Ducal family of Gertrude were ceaselessly in a nervous-wreck. They were anxious even in their slumber. They were all kept on edge as they waited for news regarding Ilya's whereabouts.
And just like that, three long years had passed.