Javien did not reply immediately. The suffocating silence once again enveloped the room, feeling heavier than ever before.

Only the ticking of the wall clock filled the space, as if counting down the seconds to their downfall.

"Yes, My Lady," Javien answered at last. His voice was quiet, yet every single word that left his lips felt like a massive boulder crashing onto the floor.

"It is not merely a bait... but a warning. The Duke knows I will never allow Olivia to be touched. And if he wishes to destroy me... he only needs to snap his fingers to make Olivia vanish from my sight."

Ophilia bit her lip, her pale face looking increasingly worried about their safety.

Celine, meanwhile, could no longer bring herself to speak, her hands freezing cold as she sat on the long sofa.

Javien slowly raised his gaze, locking his eyes directly with Ophilia’s, his expression the darkest Ophilia had ever seen.

"Therefore, I beg you with all my soul, My Lady... no matter what happens after this, please ensure Olivia always remains under your protection. Because if the Duke moves..."

Javien paused for a moment, gripping the hilt of his sword so hard that his iron armor let out a faint screech.

"...I am prepared to level this entire estate with my own blood for her sake."

Javien’s words echoed, but for some reason, that voice slowly began to drown within Ophilia’s mind.

The word ’blood’ seemed to act as a key, unlocking the door to a distant memory she had tightly locked away in the deepest corners of her heart for so long.

The memory of a cold basement filled with the metallic scent of rust.

Gulp.

Ophilia felt her world tilt for a moment. Suddenly, she was no longer looking at her luxurious room.

In her mind’s eye, she became a young girl again, unaware that her feet had brought her right to the front of the basement area, the forbidden zone beneath the Aethelgard estate.

Behind the dark wooden door, she saw a young boy. Javien.

But the boy did not look human. Under the dim light of a torch, a dark and thick demon power was crawling out of Javien’s small body, forced out through a cruel experiment conducted by her father’s hirelings.

Young Ophilia pressed herself against the stone wall, clapping both hands over her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

She was forced to watch Javien wail in agony, his body twisting and contorting to endure an unbearable pain as that forbidden power was forced down his throat through a strange liquid.

"One day, that boy will become the most loyal pawn for you, Ophilia... the moment you ascend the throne as the head of the Aethelgard house."

Duke Herold’s raspy voice suddenly whispered from behind, startling young Ophilia. Her father stood tall there, watching Javien’s suffering without a single shred of mercy, as though Javien were merely a tool being forged.

Zap.

Ophilia snapped back to reality. The teacup in her hand trembled slightly. An overwhelming sense of guilt stung her chest.

For years, she had kept that secret entirely to herself. She had never told anyone, including Olivia or Javien himself, that she had witnessed the very beginning of Javien’s torment.

She looked at Javien, who still stood rigid before her. A man who was willing to level this entire estate just to protect Olivia.

In the loneliest corner of her heart, Ophilia felt a painful emotion. She was jealous. She was envious of Olivia.

In the face of all this danger, there was someone willing to fight with his life and remain completely determined to protect that maid. Whereas she?

Ophilia smiled bitterly in her heart. She had no one. In fact, she herself was trapped, no different than one of the pawns on the chessboard of her own father, Duke Herold.

Yet, beneath that subtle envy, there was a far greater love. Ophilia stared blankly toward her bedroom door, the direction where Olivia had gone earlier.

As a friend, her heart genuinely rejoiced for Olivia. Because she knew Olivia deserved to receive such an immense love.

Olivia was not just a servant; that girl was the one who always stood by her side, held her hand, and became her ultimate savior whenever Ophilia was at the lowest phase of her life, a life entirely built on pretense.

Ophilia took a deep breath, trying to banish the remaining tears that almost gathered at the edges of her eyes. She set her teacup down, then looked at Javien with a gaze full of a protector’s absolute resolve.

"I understand, Javien,"

Ophilia spoke, her tone soft yet firm.

"I hold you to your promise. And I also promise on my own life... as long as I draw breath, no one shall touch Olivia within this estate. Including my own father."

Following that declaration of resolve from Ophilia, the room fell back into a long, heavy silence. Each of them was left to deal with the storm inside their own minds.

Meanwhile, a few wings away from there, inside a private quarters that was far more vast and luxurious, the atmosphere was just as silent.

Puff...

A thick cloud of smoke curled lazily up toward the ceiling.

Prince Avvion sat leaning back in his large velvet chair, holding a long opium pipe crafted from pure silver, the style of a classic European noble who frequently indulged in soothing herbal scents.

Spread wide across his wooden desk was a sheet of white parchment.

It was the official contract between himself and Duke Herold regarding his marriage alliance with Ophilia. Avvion stared at the lines of golden ink on that paper for a very long time.

A sinister smile began to carve itself onto his lips as he recalled the incident in the town square the other day.

Ophilia was angry yesterday.

The girl thought Avvion intentionally wanted to hurt her, when in truth, Avvion simply wanted to have some fun.

He merely wanted to see how far Duke Herold’s experiment rat, meaning Javien, could endure the pain from that whipping punishment. But Ophilia’s reaction had been completely unexpected.

"Ophilia is becoming more interesting," Avvion’s heart whispered.

He began to wonder to himself. Would that girl remain a useful pawn for his schemes, or... was she actually more suited to be his life companion?

"Hahaha..."

Avvion suddenly laughed out loud all by himself in the dim room. A mad, mysterious laughter. He slowly put his opium pipe down, then muttered to himself.

"Ophilia... you haven’t changed at all from before."

In his mind’s eye, the image of Ophilia’s face from last night reemerged. He could not forget how a pair of eyes that were usually soft and obedient had suddenly flashed with a pure, raw vengeance when she saw her beloved Knight covered in blood.

The dark aura that bled out of Ophilia last night had truly entertained his heart.

While Avvion was indulging in his dark musings, suddenly...

TOK! TOK! TOK!

The door to his room didn’t even have the chance to be knocked for a fourth time before it was yanked open violently without any warning.

A figure marched inside with large, angry strides. It was his own younger brother, Prince Avelvion.

Avelvion stopped dead in the middle of the room, one of his hands rising to swat at the air in front of his face with an expression of pure annoyance.

The entire space of his older brother’s room was already filled with the thick, intoxicating smoke of opium.

Avvion only spared a brief glance at his brother. He wasn’t surprised at all to see Avelvion’s face looking as though he wanted to murder someone.

Slowly, Avvion took one last drag of his opium before speaking in an incredibly mocking tone.

"What is it this time? Did you come here because you want to protect those cute little rats of yours?"

Hearing his brother’s sharp sarcasm, Avelvion clenched his jaw tightly. His fists tightened, holding back a temper that was already at a dangerous brink.

"Stop playing with people as if they are puppets!!"

Avelvion barked, his face flushing red, looking as though he might explode at any given second.

The rage he had been holding back since the ballroom incident all the way to the dining table this morning was finally unleashed in front of his brother’s private quarters.

Seeing his brother lose his composure, Avvion did not falter. He actually let out a low chuckle, a sound that was thoroughly grating to the ears.

Calmly, he placed his opium pipe onto the golden parchment desk, then leaned his body back against the velvet chair.

"Hey, dear little brother..." Avvion trailed his voice, looking at Avelvion with a droopy yet scheming gaze.

"Since when did you start caring about the puppets in this estate? Didn’t you say so yourself... that they are all merely experimental subjects for your medicines?" Avvion stood up slowly, stepping through the thinning clouds of opium smoke.

"I am merely helping to test their endurance. You should be thanking me, Avelvion."

Avelvion ground his teeth until they clicked.

"Javien almost died because of Duke Herold’s punishment yesterday! And you... you intentionally poured oil onto the fire. Do you think I don’t know your foul tactics, Avvion?!"

Avvion stopped right in front of his younger brother. Their nearly identical heights made the atmosphere in the room feel like a battlefield waiting for the war horn to blow.

"Foul tactics?" Avvion smiled sinfully, his eyes glinting sharply.

"I am only ensuring that my future wife, Ophilia, does not keep the wrong mangy dog at her side. Besides... isn’t it entertaining to watch your rats squirming in terror in front of the Duke?"

"You..." Avelvion had already raised his hand, aggressively grabbing his older brother’s luxurious collar.

Avelvion’s vengeful eyes flared intensely, ready to unleash a punch to Avvion’s mocking face.

Avvion merely looked at his brother with a hollow gaze, completely unfazed, and his faint smirk hadn’t faded even as his collar was pulled so hard that he was lifted slightly off the ground.

TOKK!

A quiet but very firm knock echoed in the room filled with opium smoke. The sound didn’t come from the main door... but from the private door in the corner of the room that connected Avvion’s quarters directly to Ophilia’s dressing room.

The knock caused both brothers to freeze instantly. Avelvion’s grip on Avvion’s collar stopped right then and there.

A second later, the door swung open slowly. Ophilia stood at the threshold, still dressed in her gown. Her eyes widened, staring at the sight of the two princes fighting right before her with a rigid expression.

But what was most terrifying was the figure standing right behind Ophilia in the darkness of the shadows.

A tall body holding a small bottle of blue liquid in his hand, and his eyes flashed a terrifyingly dark aura as he glared at Avvion.

Avelvion.