Chapter 38: Chapter 38

KAMORA

“What?!” Lord Maroke instantly jumped from his seat, heading toward the door.

“She never came to my quarters at the usual time,” Jarosh answered, sniffing. “When I sent for her, it was said that she wasn’t in her quarters. She isn’t anywhere in the manor.”

“Greyson,” Lord Maroke called out as he left his study.

“I’m on it, my lord,” Greyson replied from behind him.

Lord Maroke rushed down the hall, his rapid footsteps prompting the servants to either hastily step aside or pause their work to watch him with curiosity.

“My lord, is anything the matter?” Claudia said, coming out of the kitchen looking perplexed.

“I’m starting to wonder just how good you are at your job, if you can’t notice that one of us is missing!” Lord Maroke lashed out, his nostrils flaring.

“How couldn’t you know that Kamora is missing?”

Claudia’s eyes widened slightly, and she looked from Lord Maroke to his tearful son, then back to Lord Maroke.

“I never knew. I just assumed…”

“You assumed what?”

“Well, she seemed to be going through a lot these days! She is distracted and so had always used the excuse to remain in the young lord’s room.”

“I didn’t think too much about it because I figured that’s where she’d be.”

Lord Maroke dragged his hand through his hair, letting out a tired sigh.

“Begin to search the house for clues. Everyone!” he ordered, and immediately, everyone dropped what they were doing to do as he said.

“Will she be okay, Father?” Jarosh asked, tears streaming down his face.

It was the first time he’d seen his son so broken over someone, and the sight cut deep into his soul.

How useless could he be? He had finally found and remembered his wife—only to lose her all over again.

“I’ll find her, I promise you.”

“What if she left?” Jarosh asked again. “What if she doesn’t want anything to do with us?”

“That’s impossible,” Lord Maroke said firmly, dropping to a squat so he could meet his son’s eyes.

“Even if she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, there is definitely no way she’d abandon you.” And he desperately hoped that his answer was true.

He reached out, resting a hand on his son’s trembling shoulder, trying to comfort him.

After a moment, he straightened, glancing toward the hallway.

“Why don’t you go to your room and search around for clues? Perhaps she left something in there.”

Jarosh nodded, determined, and immediately dashed off.

Lord Maroke rose slowly, drawing in deep, measured breaths.

The tendrils of pain, once dulled by the drug, had begun to resurface—sharp reminders of just how devastating the news truly was.

He searched the garden thoroughly, eyes scanning every corner, every shadow—hoping, pleading for even the faintest sign.

His whispered prayers rose to the heavens, desperate and unanswered.

When nothing came, frustration clawed at his chest.

With a sharp breath, he released his wings, the wind catching beneath them as he soared to the top of the manor.

It was a futile gesture—he knew that.

But maybe, just maybe, the sky would reveal what the earth had refused to show.

Yet from above, everything looked the same.

Empty.

He flew down and stepped back into the manor, where the others had already gathered, their bodies trembling with fear.

“What is going on?” he asked, frowning. “Why aren’t you doing what I asked you to do?”

“My lord,” Claudia said, stepping forward, “we have searched every corner of this house. Kamora isn’t here.”

Lord Maroke clenched his fist so tightly, his nails nearly broke skin.

He was just about to issue another order when a shrill scream echoed from the far end of the hall—near the staircase.

“My lord! My lord!” a maid screamed, racing down the hall toward where they all stood.

Her face was pale, her breath coming in frantic gasps.

Lord Maroke rushed to meet her, his heart thundering in his chest, dread coiling tighter with every step.

“What is it?” he demanded, his voice sharp with urgency.

The maid clutched at her apron, barely able to speak between breaths.

“It’s the young lord,” she panted. “He’s—he’s been kidnapped!”

Silence crashed over the hall.

“What?” Lord Maroke whispered, his blood turning to ice.

“The maid watching over him… She…she…,” she stammered, her eyes wide with fright.

Just as Lord Maroke struggled to collect his thoughts, Claudia stepped forward and struck the maid hard across the cheek.

“Get over yourself!” she ordered calmly. “Now slowly, tell us what you saw.”

The maid swallowed hard, then began, her voice trembling. “I was searching the upper floor for the maid who went missing…when I found another—lying in a pool of blood, right outside the young lord’s room.”

A collective gasp rippled through the hall.

The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of fear and the sharp edge of disbelief.

Nothing like this had ever happened in Maroke Manor.

The maid clutched her hands together, her knuckles white. “I rushed into the room,” she continued, eyes wide with lingering shock. “My first instinct was to save him—but he…he wasn’t there.”

“P-pool of blood?” Claudia stammered, losing her supposed calm.

She turned to Lord Maroke, her face pale. “My lord…”

“Someone, see to that maid!” he barked, forcing himself to take deep, steadying breaths.

He had to calm down, for his wife and son’s sake.

This incident was well calculated. It couldn’t be a coincidence that both of them went missing on the same day.

Someone wanted him to choose between saving his son and his wife.

Whoever that was must have a very good knowledge of his family and was bent on destroying it.

But for what reason?

The wheels in his head began to turn as he tried to think of who knew him well enough to play such an evil prank.

And he came to one conclusion.

The princess.

She was the only one who could do something like this.

It was already strange that she paid him a surprise visit.

Seeing Kamora might have made her desperate.

Was she perhaps the one who caused both of them to lose their memories?

One thing he was sure about: if she had his son, then Jarosh was safe.

She might be obsessed, but she definitely couldn’t kill the son of a noble, no matter how evil she may be.

Even her parents wouldn’t be able to save her.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t harm Kamora.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, it all clicked into place.

The princess wanted him to choose—his love or his son.

She wouldn’t dare touch his only heir…but Kamora? A woman disguised as a maid? She’d be easy to erase. No questions asked.

Kamora was in danger.

Without a word, without a second thought, Lord Maroke spun on his heel and bolted toward the manor’s entrance. His wings burst free with power, and he soared into the sky, leaving the stunned crowd behind.

He had to reach her—before it was too late.