After parting with her grandfather, exhaustion finally caught up to Thea.
Her body ached in the pleasant way that came after an emotionally overwhelming day—too many feelings, too many changes, too much happiness she wasn't yet used to. All she wanted now was a warm bath and her bed.
But the moment she reached her room, she stopped.
Anne was pacing back and forth outside the door.
Her usually straight posture was stiff. Her hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles had turned white. The moment she sensed Thea's presence, Anne spun around as if shocked.
"Anne?" Thea frowned. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, Anne rushed forward and grabbed Thea's wrist, pulling her inside the room and closing the door behind them with shaking hands.
Thea blinked in confusion.
"Anne…?"
Anne didn't speak. She only stared at her—eyes wide, pale face trembling, fingers gripping Thea's hands as if afraid she might disappear.
Thea's chest tightened.
"I don't like the way you're acting," she said softly. "You're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong."
Anne swallowed hard.
Her mind flashed back to what she had seen earlier that night.
A Few Hours Earlier
Anne was in a good mood.
Seeing her young miss laughing with her fiancé in the garden had filled her heart with relief she hadn't felt in years. Thea finally looked happy—truly happy—and Anne felt like a weight had lifted from her chest.
Humming softly, she prepared Thea's favourite coffee and headed toward the kitchen.
That was when she heard a voice.
Low. Male. Whispering.
Anne stopped mid-step.
Butler Alfred?
He was standing near the kitchen entrance, back turned, phone pressed to his ear. His tone was strange—sharp, tense, nothing like his usual polite composure.
Anne frowned.
Who is he talking to…?
Her unease deepened. She had already been suspicious of him these past few days—his constant phone calls, his strange behaviour with the tea. Acting on instinct, she hid behind a pillar near the kitchen entrance.
She listened.
"…the engagement went well," Alfred said. "But she didn't drink the tea."
Anne's stomach dropped.
Tea?
"She's acting strange after the hospital visit," he continued. "Calm. Collected. Even when I provoked her, she ignored it."
Anne covered her mouth.
He's talking about Young Miss…
Her heart pounded as she leaned closer.
"Her maid seems to be suspicious about me and the tea."
Anne's blood turned cold.
Maid? Tea? Drugs?
Her eyes widened as everything connected.
It was me.
"She drinks it every night," Alfred said. "I'll make sure she drinks the medicine no matter what."
Anne almost screamed.
Medicine? Drugs?
A soft sound escaped her lips.
Alfred froze.
"Who's there?" he barked.
Anne dropped to her knees behind the pillar, hugging herself, pressing her hand over her mouth as her heart thundered in her ears. She could see his shoes—just one step away.
"Come out," he snarled. "You rat."
Her whole body shook.
Please… please…
Then—
"Butler Alfred?"
A young servant's voice echoed from the back of the kitchen.
Anne nearly collapsed from relief.
The boy smiled innocently. "Old Master asked me to tell you to prepare his tea in the terrace."
Alfred stiffened.
"How long have you been there?" he asked, voice cold.
The boy tilted his head. "I just came in, sir."
Anne peeked through her lashes.
She saw it then.
A knife—hidden behind Alfred's back.
Her heart nearly stopped.
But after a tense pause, Alfred slowly returned the blade to his belt.
"Tell the Old Master I'll bring it shortly," he said.
The boy nodded and left.
Only when Alfred turned away did Anne dare to breathe.
The moment he disappeared into the kitchen, Anne ran.
She didn't stop until she reached Thea's room.
Now, standing in front of her young miss, Anne's hands were still shaking.
"Maid… tea… drugs…" she whispered, the words tumbling out brokenly.
Thea's expression changed instantly.
Her heart sank.
Anne lifted her head, eyes filled with fear and resolve.
"Miss," she said hoarsely, "the tea… don't drink it. Ever again."
The room fell silent.
And in that silence—
Thea finally understood.
Her suspicions… were real.