Gulp.

Olivia swallowed hard, the back of her throat feeling painfully dry.

Your Grace’s eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking, waiting for an explanation about the subtle trembling in Olivia’s foolish hands.

She immediately bowed her head as low as possible, racking her brain to find the most logical excuse so their secret wouldn’t be exposed over this terrifying dining table.

"I beg for your forgiveness, Your Grace. Your Grace’s aura this morning is so commanding that this servant feels utterly small.

"Furthermore... I am feeling slightly lightheaded from not sleeping last night, trying to fulfill the requests of My Lady Ophilia, who is still traumatized by the incident at the ball."

Olivia spoke calmly. She forced herself to control her shaking hands. Duke Herold, without even looking at Olivia, delivered a reply that made the room even more suffocating for the three of them.

"Olivia, I didn’t see you in Ophilia’s room at all last night," Your Grace remarked.

His voice was smooth but laced with a deadly chill, enough to make the hairs on Olivia’s neck stand on end.

He still didn’t look at Olivia, busy cutting the meat on his plate, making her feel as though she were being watched by a predator.

Olivia’s heart seemed to stop.

For a split second, the world tilted. In the suffocating silence of the dining room, the clatter of a fork against porcelain sounded like thunder.

This is it. Olivia, you’re dead this time!!!

Olivia whispered anxiously in her heart. Behind Ophilia, Olivia could see Javien’s knuckles turning white as he gripped the hilt of his sword with absolute force. His body was rigid as an iron statue.

He looked ready to strike, even if it meant his own death. That thought terrified Olivia more than the Duke’s interrogation.

Think, Olivia. Think!

Olivia lowered her head even deeper, letting her bangs veil her trembling eyes.

"I beg for your forgiveness, Your Grace,"

Olivia spoke, her voice intentionally softened, playing the part of a frightened maid.

"Last night, My Lady was so restless, so this servant spent a lot of time going to the kitchen to fetch cloths and warm water for Her Lady.

" For the rest of the night, I was running back and forth to the lower kitchen to get warm milk to soothe My Lady. Perhaps that is why this servant’s insignificant presence went unnoticed when Your Grace checked in."

Olivia dared to steal a glance at Ophilia. She truly was a magnificent actress.

"That is true, Father," Ophilia chimed in, sounding thoroughly annoyed as she toyed with the salad on her plate.

"I was utterly exhausted and ill last night. I asked Olivia to fetch milk and warm water for me... while I tried to sleep. Are you truly going to spend our entire breakfast questioning my maid’s whereabouts as if she were a common criminal?"

Your Grace finally set his knife down.

KLANG.

The sharp sound echoed through the entire hall. He leaned back in his chair, his cold eyes shifting from Ophilia to Olivia, before lingering for a terrifying moment on Javien’s pale face.

The air in the room felt heavy, like a storm was about to break. Olivia held her breath, praying in her heart that the scent of the blue liquid Avelvion’s secret wasn’t clinging to her skin.

Your Grace did not reply, but his gaze still hadn’t wavered from Olivia. In that heavy silence, she could suddenly feel her left pergelangan tangan growing hot.

Beneath the long sleeve of her maid’s uniform, the fine thread wrapped around Olivia’s wrist began to vibrate.

The vibration was incredibly subtle, yet to Olivia, it felt like an electric shock coursing through her entire nervous system.

Not now... please, not now!

The thread seemed to be reacting to Duke Herold’s piercing gaze. The longer the Duke stared, the stronger the vibration became, until the hem of Olivia’s sleeve visibly twitched.

"Olivia," the Duke called out again, his voice dropping lower.

"Why do your hands look... so unsettled?"

Olivia’s heart almost burst from her chest.

Olivia immediately clamped her right hand over her left wrist, pretending to adjust the fit of her apron.

"I... I beg for your forgiveness, Your Grace. This servant is merely shivering because I am deeply worried about My Lady’s health," Olivia replied quickly, though cold sweat had already begun to trail down her back.

Suddenly, Javien, who stood behind Ophilia, shifted slightly. The scraping sound of his iron armor broke the silence.

"Your Grace," Javien interjected, his voice raspy yet firm. "If Your Grace is finished, this servant requests permission to escort My Lady back to her chambers. The royal physician advised that My Lady should not remain in open spaces for too long in this condition."

The Duke’s gaze shifted to Javien. He looked mildly irritated at being interrupted by a mere Knight, but Javien’s reasoning regarding the "royal physician" left him with no room to object.

"Take her away," the Duke commanded curtly, reaching for his wine glass.

Ophilia immediately stood up with Celine’s assistance, while Olivia quickly followed from behind. The moment they stepped out of the massive doors of the dining room, Olivia felt as though she had just escaped from the jaws of a grave.

Yet, the vibration on Olivia’s wrist did not stop. In fact, it grew even more intense, as if the thread were warning her that something far worse was on the horizon.

Our paces quickened as we distanced ourselves from the dining room. The moment we turned into the quieter corridor of the west wing, Olivia finally dared to let out a long breath.

The Duke didn’t pursue us, and no guards came to detain us. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the trembling in Olivia’s hands the moment he finished his steak.

However, the fine thread on Olivia’s wrist refused to quiet down. Its vibration felt like an erratic pulse now racing, now slowing.

"Olivia, are you alright?"

Celine whispered, glancing toward Olivia’s hand which was hidden beneath her apron.

"I’m fine... it’s just this thread," Olivia replied shortly.

Javien, who was walking ahead of them, suddenly came to a halt. He turned around slowly, his face looking profoundly exhausted. Cold sweat was still visible on his forehead, but he forced himself to stand as straight as possible.

"The Duke won’t ask any more questions for now," Javien said, his voice deep.

"He is the type who only strikes when he senses his prey has become completely careless. Right now, he is bored, so we are safe... for the time being."

Ophilia let out a sigh of relief, leaning her shoulder against the corridor wall.

"Thank goodness. I almost fainted for real just looking at Father’s face he looked like he wanted to swallow someone alive."

Javien took a step closer to Olivia. He looked down at Olivia’s wrist, which was still vibrating subtly beneath the fabric of her maid’s attire.

Without a word, he reached out and took Olivia’s hand.

The moment his rough yet warm skin came into contact with Olivia’s wrist, the vibration of the thread ceased instantly.

It vanished entirely, replaced by a profound sense of calm that washed over Olivia’s heart.

Olivia froze. The two of them stood in silence for a brief moment in the dim corridor.

"It... it stopped when you touched it," Olivia whispered, looking up at Javien.

Javien took a deep breath, then slowly released Olivia’s hand. He looked slightly awkward, but his eyes still betrayed a deep, lingering worry.

"Perhaps because the medicine has already fused with my blood, and the thread... it is merely seeking its source of energy,"

Javien explained, his tone carefully guarded.

"Go back to your room, Olivia. Rest for a while. Let me guard My Lady’s door today."

"But your wounds..."

"I am fine," Javien cut her off quickly, though Olivia knew he was lying.

"Standing at a door all day is far easier than facing the Duke at the dining table for ten minutes."

Ophilia offered a faint smile as she looked at the two of them.

"Go on, Olivia. Go get some rest. You look like a walking corpse to me. Let Celine accompany me this morning."

Olivia nodded weakly. As Olivia turned to head toward the maid’s quarters, she caught herself looking back. She saw Javien standing tall in front of Ophilia’s door, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword, but his eyes...

His eyes watched every single step she took until Olivia finally disappeared around the bend. He let out a quiet breath before stepping into Ophilia’s wide-open chambers.

"Javien..." Ophilia called out calmly, lifting the tea that sat before her. Celine, meanwhile, sank into the long sofa chair.

Both of them looked at Javien, who stood stationed behind Ophilia.

"Yes, My Lady," Javien replied in a steady tone, even though beneath the iron armor, the pain was agonizing. But the linen bandages Olivia had wrapped around him earlier managed to prevent his wounds from worsening.

"You... are you the boy from the basement?"

Ophilia asked, her expression unreadable. Javien remained completely silent. Without answering her question, he countered with his own.

"Why does My Lady ask about such a matter?"

Javien questioned. His defensive instincts flared instantly upon hearing someone touch upon his trauma.

Ophilia turned back toward him, a sharp smile touching her lips.

"I am merely asking... because it seems Father must already know about Olivia and you,"

she added, her face turning dead serious. Javien said nothing. He clenched his fists with absolute force.

"Why is My Lady so certain?" he pressed, demanding an answer.

Ophilia sighed quietly before taking a small sip of her tea. Her pale face looked increasingly grave.

"Father is not the type to waste his time interrogating a common maid like Olivia, Javien. He intentionally brought up your condition this morning, and he purposefully trapped Olivia with that loaded question.

He wanted to see who among us would break first," Ophilia said, her eyes locked sharply onto Javien’s.

Celine, who was sitting on the long sofa, immediately straightened her posture, setting her teacup onto the table with a soft clink.

"My Lady is right, Knight Javien. Duke Herold is like a lion playing with its prey. He purposely lets go, but his eyes never stray. But... I still don’t understand. What does any of this have to do with the boy in the basement that My Lady mentioned?"

A suffocating silence once again enveloped the room.

Javien stood frozen. The secrets of that dark, cold basement, filled with the scent of blood he had tried so hard to bury deep within, felt as if they were being forcibly dragged into the light. He clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw flexed beneath the shadow of his hair.

"Because it was in that basement... that the Duke taught this servant to become a puppet devoid of feelings, My Lady,"

Javien replied, his voice sounding hollow, cold, and slightly trembling as he held back ancient trauma.

He took a short breath that felt constricted under the pressure of his heavy silver chestplate.

"The Duke knows this servant would never disobey an order. I was trained to possess neither mercy nor fear. Yet this morning at the dining table... I broke protocol and interrupted the Duke solely to stop him from questioning Olivia."

Javien dropped his gaze, staring at the luxurious carpet beneath his armored boots.

"In the eyes of Duke Herold, a Knight who begins to act on emotion... is a Knight who has acquired a weakness. And the Duke... absolutely loathes weakness."

Ophilia fell silent for a moment. Javien’s words seemed to confirm her greatest fear. She looked at Celine, and Celine could only swallow the bitter lump in her throat.

"So what you’re saying is..." Ophilia spoke softly, her voice barely a whisper.

"Father purposely let us leave that dining room because... he wants to use us as bait to lead him straight to the source of your ’weakness’?"