The Grand Duke's Soulmate
Chapter 418: Identifying A Long-Forgotten Victim

Chapter 418: Identifying A Long-Forgotten Victim

All eyes turned to Eric, anticipating an explanation. Instead of answering them, the second-in-command knight instructed Garin, "Tell the servant to bring a canvas, a pencil, and an easel, too!"

"Ah!" Garin exclaimed, his face lighting up at the thought. "Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll get them arranged right away!"

The third-in-command knight rushed off to fulfil the order without wasting a moment.

"What are you planning, Sir Navin?" Kiev asked, impatience creeping into his voice.

Standing confidently, Eric laid out his plan.

"Among the knights, Sir McQuinn has exceptional skill in drawing and sketching. He was a bright student who studied at a temple on a scholarship from His Majesty the King. I’ll ask him to sketch the slave woman’s face since he has seen her."

Noah felt a surge of hope. After years of searching for the victim’s identity, it seemed the mystery was finally about to be unravelled. He had longed to discover who the slave woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere really was.

Meanwhile, anxiety weighed heavily on Elis’s heart. She prayed fervently that her sister was safe and alive and not the victim in question.

Kiev gently rubbed Elis’s back, offering her kind words as they waited for Luke and Damon to return.

Before long, the two knights arrived with a servant who carried the sketching supplies.

"Sir Navin, Sir Parker told me that I’m needed here regarding Sir Brooks," Damon began.

"Yes. Has he briefed you on everything?" Eric asked.

"He did. Just so you know, I asked Sir Mills to cover my duty while I’m here," the knight replied.

Eric nodded in acknowledgement.

"Do you still remember the slave woman’s face?" he inquired.

"I do," Damon answered.

"Then can you accurately sketch her so Miss Canton can determine if she is her sister?" Eric ordered.

Damon complied, directing the servant to set up the sketching materials properly.

"This may take some time, so please be patient," Damon said.

"In that case, get him a stool so he can work comfortably," Eric instructed the servant.

The servant quickly obtained the item to facilitate Luke’s task.

"I think it’s best if we sit down and take a breather while we wait," Kiev suggested to Elis.

"I don’t want to go anywhere else!" she replied firmly.

"Just sit on the bench over there for now, please. Sir McQuinn needs to concentrate on producing a proper sketch," urged Garin. Turning to Elis with concern, he added, "You need to take a break and calm yourself first."

Elis hesitated, but after the two men encouraged her, she relented. Kiev guided her to a nearby bench, offering a moment of respite from the tense atmosphere.

Damon settled onto the stool brought by the servant and began sketching. He held the pencil delicately, carefully stroking the lines to form a shape gradually. His fingers smudged the graphite slightly as he worked, adding depth to the shadows he was defining.

Emily watched in awe at Damon’s remarkable talent while Noah stood patiently behind him, eager for the outcome.

"That’s her!" Noah exclaimed as the sketched figure became more recognisable.

Damon paused, furrowing his brow at the interruption.

"Please don’t disturb me. I haven’t finished yet," he said. "If you interrupt, I might not be able to capture her likeness accurately. It’s been a few years, so I must concentrate to recall her face."

"Sorry about that! Please carry on!" Emily replied, gently pulling Noah aside. "Let’s wait under the tree until it’s ready."

Noah hesitated but saw Garin nodding in agreement with Emily’s suggestion. He relented and followed his wife away from the concentrated sketcher.

Meanwhile, Kiev and Elis sat a little further away from the group. Holding her close, he reassured her, "Everything will be fine. I promise, if it turns out not to be her, I’ll help find her."

"What if it is?" Elis asked, her voice trembling.

Kiev looked deeply into her eyes, feeling her fear, vulnerability, and worry.

"Then I’ll seek fair revenge. She deserves justice," he vowed firmly.

Elis hugged Kiev tightly, her body shaking with sobs. As worry and anxiety washed over her, guilt crept into her heart. Before all this chaos, they had had their first quarrel, and she had run away from him. Now, she clung to him as if he were her lifeline.

"I’m sorry for what I said earlier!" she cried.

"About what?" Kiev asked gently.

"I questioned your intentions regarding Lady Raychard. She’s unwell, and you’re her betrothed. I should have let you go and check on her."

Kiev visited Anna in her chamber daily to ensure she was recovering properly. His continuous attentiveness, despite the princess’s wariness, made Elis feel vulnerable.

What if one day, the Mederian Prince grew fonder of the princess and decided to leave her?

Anna was officially betrothed to Kiev. Although she was a concubine of the Grand Duke, she came from royal blood, unlike Elis, who had humble origins and was once a former slave. This stark contrast left her feeling increasingly vulnerable.

Yet, she could do nothing to change this reality; her heart grew more entangled in the longing for his affection.

A subtle smile graced the Mederian Prince’s lips as he recalled Elis’s sudden departure.

"And you just ran away before I could explain," he said.

"I shouldn’t have done that! I’m so sorry!" she replied, her voice regretful.

"Were you... perhaps... jealous?" he asked carefully.

Elis looked down, her heart racing at his question. Ever since she had danced with King Kyden, the desire to have Kiev all to herself had overwhelmed her.

Whenever the Mederian Prince showed concern for the princess, a swirl of emotions stirred within her. Was it wrong to follow her heart and be greedy for him, as the king had suggested?

"I... I shouldn’t have such feelings toward her. She is kind and of high status. She cares for me and the others. Someone like her shouldn’t be surrounded by ill thoughts," Elis responded, aware of Anna’s importance to Kiev.

Kiev understood the deeper meaning behind her words. This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for him. He felt guilty for putting her in such a difficult situation.

Callis had warned him that caring for two women simultaneously wouldn’t be easy. While he couldn’t deny his love for Elis, he also had a promise to keep regarding Anna’s safety, a vow made to Angel, the princess’s mother.

Kiev squeezed Elis’s hand, recognising how much she needed his support. He felt a flicker of joy at her unexpected display of emotion, which revealed her growing feelings for him, even if she hadn’t expressed them outright.

"You’re not at fault. I should have considered your feelings, too. Princess Anna has everyone’s attention, but you have only me," he said gently.

"That’s not true. The Knights of Gerhard have taken good care of me, especially Sir Skyler," she replied.

"Ah... thankfully, he thinks of you only as a sister. Otherwise, I might end up in another duel for you," the Mederian Prince teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Kiev! Don’t say that! He’s like family to me!" she exclaimed.

Kiev felt a sense of relief.

"I know, and I’m thankful to him and the other knights for saving you." He gently patted the back of her hand and continued, "Whatever happens next, please know that I will always be by your side."

Just then, Luke approached the couple.

"The sketch is ready. Please come over to verify it," he said.

Kiev nodded and stood up. As they rose, Elis’s anxiety grew. Kiev held her hand, his arm wrapping around her slender waist as he guided her toward the gathered group.

Elis’s feet felt numb, barely touching the ground with each step. The closer they got, the more fear enveloped her. Finally, they arrived before the group, where the sketch awaited them. The easel held it in place, its back facing Kiev and Elis.

Noah and Emily had joined the gathering earlier, their eyes focused intently on the sketch. As the couple approached, the knight stepped aside, giving them space to stand before the artwork. Understanding his gesture, Emily followed suit.

"Kiev!" Elis turned back for a moment before stepping closer to see the sketch. The knights waited patiently, none urging her forward, well aware of her anxiety.

"It’s all right. I’ll be with you. We’ll do this together," he said, offering his support.

Elis nodded, mustering all the courage she could gather. The Mederian Prince’s comforting touch gave her the strength she desperately needed. She stepped forward carefully, turning her body to face the sketch while Kiev held her hand.

Elis deliberately looked down, preparing herself. Shivers ran through her spine as the moment they had all been waiting for arrived. She took a deep breath, and the surroundings fell into a pin-drop silence.

Not a sound emerged—not even the rustle of leaves or the chirp of birds as if nature itself sensed the gravity of the situation.

"Be strong, Elis. Look up whenever you’re ready," Kiev encouraged.

Elis nodded, and after a moment, she lifted her head. Her blue eyes darted to the sketch displayed before her, revealing the face of the slave woman in vivid detail.

At that moment, her knees felt weak, and she felt as if her soul had left her body. She began to slump, but Kiev’s swift movement caught her just before she fell.

Elis’s face turned as pale as a sheet, and tears pricked her eyes, spilling over like a broken dam.

"Elis! Elis!" Concerned by her sudden change, Kiev shook her gently.

Elis turned to him, her expression registered with unspoken shock.

"Is she..." The Mederian Prince couldn’t finish his thought; the look on the woman’s face said it all.

Finally, a word escaped her lips.

"E... Erika..." It was barely a whisper forced from her trembling mouth.

The knights quickly grasped the significance of her response, their faces turning solemn.

"Erika!!!" Elis suddenly screamed in despair. "My sister! My sister, Erika!!!" She wailed hysterically, her grief spilling over.

Her face flushed red as she cried out, flailing her arms while Kiev struggled to hold her steady.

"Calm down, Elis!" the Mederian Prince urged, his voice strained with concern.

Elis’s cries pierced the air, transforming the atmosphere into one of deep sorrow. Her pent-up emotions, long suppressed, erupted like wildfire.

The gentle, polite woman they knew was now consumed by anguish, her screams echoing without restraint. No words could console her.

For her sister’s sake, Elis had sacrificed everything—her freedom and even her cherished innocence as a maiden. Now, the very reason for her existence was gone.

Erika, her long-lost sister, was confirmed to be dead.

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