Jake left without looking back, but the haste didn’t match the posture he was trying to maintain. His step was too firm, too heavy, like someone trying to compensate for something already lost inside the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, control began to slip away in the details. His breathing became irregular, his jaw clenched tightly, and his hand ran through his hair abruptly, as if that would resolve the discomfort still clinging to his skin.

He continued walking down the hallway with long strides, ignoring any presence around him. He didn’t greet anyone, didn’t deviate, didn’t slow down. Whoever was in his way simply left. Not because he demanded it, but because it was clear that it wasn’t a good time to cross paths with him.

"Crazy..." he murmured, low at first, almost like a leaking thought. "Completely crazy..."

His tone rose slightly as he continued walking, irritation growing unfiltered. He let out a short, humorless laugh, laden with disdain.

"Six thousand years old and she acts like a psychopath..." she continued, spitting out the words with more force now. "Thinks she’s in charge of everything..."

But even saying that, there was a clear flaw in the consistency. He wasn’t as sure as he wanted to seem. It wasn’t outright fear, but it wasn’t just anger either. It was a deeper discomfort, something that didn’t quite fit with his own logic.

He stopped for a second in the middle of the hallway, his shoulders tense, his gaze fixed on nothing. The memory of the pressure in the room was still too fresh. The way she spoke. The way she didn’t have to do anything other than exist there.

"Fuck it..." he murmured again, quieter now.

And then he started walking again, faster this time, as if leaving that place would solve anything. Deep down, he knew it wouldn’t. But it was all he could do at the moment.

Inside the room, the silence returned naturally, as if it had never been interrupted. Rakshasa remained seated behind the fabric, in the same position as before, her silhouette motionless, but her presence different. No longer merely controlled, but... active in a more internal way.

The door opened a few seconds later, with the same care as always.

The butler entered without haste, closing the door behind him with precision, as if the atmosphere demanded it. He walked a few steps and stopped at his usual exact spot, maintaining his impeccable posture.

For a moment, he said nothing.

He only observed.

Even with the fabric parted, it was noticeable. It wasn’t something physically obvious, but there was a clear change in the atmosphere. A kind of slight tension mixed with... something stranger.

"Madam..." he began, in his usual tone, but with a slight pause before continuing. "Are you alright?"

Rakshasa didn’t answer immediately.

The silence stretched for a few seconds before she let out a small sound through her nose, almost a suppressed laugh.

"I am," she said simply.

The butler inclined his head slightly, but didn’t move. There was something else he needed to say.

"Forgive the observation," he continued carefully, "but... your smile is a little... different."

There was a short pause.

"...I would say it’s... sickly."

Rakshasa let out a short laugh this time, clearer, but still not exaggerated.

"Sickly?" she repeated.

"Yes," he replied directly. "It’s not common."

She was silent for a moment, as if truly considering it.

"That makes sense," she said finally. "It’s not common indeed."

She slightly adjusted her posture behind the fabric, still maintaining the lotus position, but now with a slight shift in her body weight.

"It’s the first time," she continued, "in six thousand years... that a child enters my territory and demands things from me."

The butler listened without interrupting.

"First time," she repeated, as if reinforcing her own perception. "No filter. No clue. No understanding of where he was."

Her voice didn’t rise, but it grew colder.

"And that irritates me," she said simply.

There was a short pause before she continued.

"Not the attitude itself," she added. "But the fact that he didn’t even understand the difference in position."

The butler remained silent.

"There’s a clear limit," she continued. "There’s a line about who can and cannot cross certain spaces."

She tilted her head slightly, the gesture reflected in the shadow.

"The only person who can have my first times... is Victor."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t light either.

The butler absorbed it without immediate reaction, but the thought came clearly.

She’s involved.

More than usual.

More than would be... prudent.

Still, he didn’t show it directly. His expression remained neutral, professional, but there was a slight internal shift. A mixture of concern and something close to satisfaction.

It was rare to see that.

And, in a way, it was... human.

He took a breath, organizing his words before speaking again.

"If I may make a suggestion," he said respectfully.

Rakshasa didn’t answer, but didn’t interrupt. "Why don’t you visit him?" she continued. "And help a little."

There was a short pause before the next sentence.

"He’s in solitary training."

This time, there was an immediate reaction.

Rakshasa tilted her head slightly, more noticeable now.

"Solitary training?" she repeated.

The butler nodded.

"Yes," he replied. "It’s been about three months."

The silence that followed was different.

More focused.

More active.

"Three months..." she murmured.

The information was processed too quickly to be ignored. She already knew he was training. She knew he wasn’t participating in common activities. But this... three months in isolation... was something else.

"And you didn’t mention this before?" she asked, without raising her voice.

The butler maintained his composure.

"You were busy," he replied. "And there was no need for direct intervention." Rakshasa didn’t respond immediately.

But she didn’t argue either.

"I understand," she finally said.

The butler continued.

"Considering his pattern of evolution," he added, "it’s reasonable to assume there has been significant progress."

She let out a small "hm."

"He must have gotten quite strong..." he continued, now more directly.

Rakshasa remained silent for a few seconds.

"He must," she replied.

But this time there was something different.

More interest.

More intention.

She stood still for another moment, as if internally recalculating priorities.

"Isolated training..." she repeated once more.

Then she let out a light sigh.

"Interesting."

The butler said nothing more.

He didn’t need to.

The change had already happened.

The decision was being formed.

And, considering who she was—

It wouldn’t take long for that to become a reality.