Devon laughed freely, smiling:
"Indeed... in the flesh. No cause for alarm."
Victoria stood for a moment, breathing slowly, trying to process what had happened, her heart still pounding from shock and astonishment.
Victoria bowed politely, saying in a low voice:
"Forgive me, my lord, for my behavior..."
Lyomord interrupted with a grumble, his voice quiet but stern:
"Don't apologize... both of them deserve expulsion. And then... why did you come here, Theo?"
Devon smiled lightly, as though enjoying the situation, while the young man with violet eyes stood steadily, observing Lyomord's reaction without uttering a word.
Victoria slowly raised her head, trying not to show her confusion, while her heart beat violently, for she realized that every word now carried weight greater than ever before.
Theodore answered calmly, his voice steady, bearing neither mockery nor apology:
"It seems your condition has improved since I last saw you, Leo. At least... your door is open now."
Lyomord raised his eyebrow slightly and turned his head toward the sound, as though staring with unseeing eyes:
"Are you mocking me?"
Then he added in a lighter but more impactful tone:
"What do you want now?"
Theodore took a deep breath before answering:
"I didn't come to mock. Had I wanted that, I wouldn't have traveled all this distance."
He stepped forward into the room and stopped respectfully at a distance.
"I came to see you... not the Duke, but you."
Lyomord laughed a short laugh, devoid of mirth:
"You came too late. What remains here isn't worth visiting."
Devon interjected, leaning against the door frame, his tone light but his eyes watching every detail:
"Don't be harsh, Leo. Even princes don't visit without reason."
A brief silence fell.
Victoria remained standing near the door, hands clasped before her, trying to be invisible... yet she heard everything.
Theodore spoke in a more subdued tone, some formality disappearing from his voice:
"The matter is more serious than you imagine, Leo. The King... bedridden. Illness has exhausted him, and the physicians offer no reassurance."
A brief silence followed.
"And Edward..." Theodore continued, his violet eyes watching his friend's reaction,
"His behavior has become strange. Erratic. His decisions contradictory. And these days..."
He hesitated a moment, then said:
"He craves your letters. Asks about them constantly. As though searching for something he cannot find."
Lyomord's face stiffened. He said nothing, but his hand clenched slightly atop the blanket.
At that moment, Victoria moved with extreme quietness, attempting to slip toward the door.
One step only... then another.
But she didn't reach it.
Daniel caught her wrist lightly, as though a passing gesture, and smiled a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Then he said in an artificially cheerful voice, clear to everyone:
"By the way, my dear friend Leo... did you know your little maid here forges your letters?"
Theodore froze in place.
"What?"
As for Lyomord...
He showed no astonishment.
He said with complete coldness:
"Of course I know. I'm the one who asked her to do it."
Silence fell, heavier than before.
Theodore turned to him sharply, his voice emerging taut:
"Are you in full possession of your faculties, Leo? A maid... replying to your letters?"
Then he stopped suddenly, as though an idea struck him belatedly, and turned his gaze toward Victoria.
"Wait..."
He stepped closer.
"Does this include... Edward's letters?"
Victoria felt the ground slip from beneath her feet.
She was on the verge of melting in place.
But...
Her lord didn't object.
Didn't grow angry.
Didn't deny.
And that alone was sufficient.
She slowly raised her head and nodded slightly, clearly.
Yes.
She didn't say a single word.
Theodore placed his hand on his head, as though trying to organize his thoughts before they escaped entirely, then suddenly looked at Victoria and asked in an oddly serious tone:
"Tell me... did you write the letter 'R' backward?"
Victoria froze for a moment, then furrowed her brows with genuine confusion.
"No, my lord," she answered calmly. "And why would I write it backward?"
Theodore closed his eyes and struck his forehead with his palm in a light blow, bearing not anger so much as despair.
"Wonderful... simply wonderful."
He opened his eyes and looked directly at Lyomord.
"So my brother knows the letters aren't in your hand. He knows they're forged. And yet..."
He raised his hands slightly in the air, like one surrendering to absurdity.
"He craves them. Waits for them. Asks about them."
He glanced between Lyomord and Daniel, then added with restrained sharpness:
"Has everyone gone mad... or am I the only one who doesn't understand anything here?"
Lyomord didn't respond immediately. He remained still, his features calm in a manner that aroused suspicion.
The question fell into the room like a stone into stagnant water.
An uncomfortable, heavy silence descended, until even Victoria felt it pressing on her chest.
It wasn't the silence alone that troubled her... but Daniel's gaze.
He was staring at her without a smile this time, a cold, examining look, as though placing her on scales whose weights she couldn't see.
Before the silence could endure further, Lyomord said in an unusually calm voice:
"Victoria... are you still here?"
She startled slightly, then answered quickly: "Yes, my lord. I'm here."
He paused a moment, then said with clarity that brooked no interpretation:
"Prepare fresh clothes for me."
Victoria's eyes widened in astonishment, but she didn't comment. "Yes, my lord." And she rushed immediately toward the adjacent room.
The moment the door closed behind her, Daniel said in a surprised tone:
"Fresh clothes? Why?"
And Theodore added with concern:
"Leo... what are you planning?"
Lyomord turned slightly toward the sound of their voices and said with clear sharpness:
"None of your concern."
Then he continued without raising his voice:
"And now... leave. Immediately."
A brief silence followed, then the sound of hesitant footsteps, and both withdrew.
Minutes later, Victoria returned carrying dark clothes—elegant, simple, but befitting a Duke. She helped him dress without a word.
She combed his hair carefully, her fingers steady despite her racing pulse.
And when she finished, he said: "Let's go."
She froze a moment. "Where, my lord?"
"Outside."
For the first time since her arrival at the estate... Lyomord left his wing.
He stood straight, his steps steady, as though darkness had yet stolen nothing from him.
In the corridor, Daniel was waiting.
Lyomord said calmly with a touch of sarcasm: "Where's your face, Dan?"
Daniel laughed lightly. "Here." He stepped forward and took Lyomord's hand, guiding it to his face.
In the next instant—a slap.
A sudden, sharp slap that echoed through the corridor.
Lyomord leaned close to Daniel's ear and said in a low, dangerous voice:
"Don't you dare threaten me... or my maid... ever again."
He paused for a fraction of a second, then added:
"Next time will be worse."
A brief silence followed.
Then—"Hahahaha!"
Daniel laughed genuinely, with obvious happiness, no anger within. "This is the Leo I know!"
Then he looked at Victoria with gleaming eyes.
"Well done, little one. You've won the wager."
As for Theodore, he stood to the side, slowly shaking his head, and said in a tone of surrender:
"Wonderful..." He sighed. "It seems I'm the only sane one among you all."
Victoria said to herself, happiness evident on her face:
"Well done indeed... certainly....
A little more, and I'll have protection from Duke Ashford himself."
She clenched her fist lightly, like one securing a small victory in her heart,
and her eyes watched him closely.
Victoria raised her eyebrow and said with a light smile, trying to remain polite:
"I'll excuse myself now to complete my work."
Daniel laughed lightly, his eyes gleaming with interest and playfulness, then said in a tone nearly commanding:
"Very well... prepare tea for us in the garden, and you'll find us there."
Victoria smiled with quick agreement, realizing this wasn't the time for argument, and descended rapidly toward the kitchen.
The moment she entered, she felt the place's weight.
Griffin, the massive cook, stood beside the hearth, his black eyes watching every movement as though reading her thoughts. His large body filled the corner, and his deep voice cut through the air:
"Has the Cardinal sent any message? Any news?"
Victoria shook her head in denial, trying to maintain her calm despite the feeling of discomfort:
"Nothing."
Griffin smiled a small smile... but it wasn't reassuring; rather, it added a feeling of pressure. He said with heavy seriousness:
"Are you certain? Two weeks without any news..."
Victoria responded in the same calm tone, her eyes searching for a way out:
"The Cardinal trusts me. When he needs me, he'll send word."
She quickly took the teapot and left the kitchen, thinking to herself:
"Griffin is right... it's impossible for Cardinal Shafir to remain this quiet all this time without moving to eliminate someone, especially after I refused his orders."
She took a deep breath as she walked toward the garden, her eyes focused on every movement around her. She thought to herself in an internal voice:
"Shafir is planning to eliminate me in the most terrible way... and perhaps this is why he's delayed.
I must make Duke Ashford on my side—his authority is stronger than his—or I'll become food for dogs."
On the way to the garden, Rebecca was talking as though trying to fill the silence between them:
"The estate is vast... every day there's more than just arranging or cleaning, every wing, every staff member, every small detail... the work here exhausts one and drains all energy."
Rebecca smiled a light smile, but something in her eyes remained alert, jumping over the ordinary words.
She continued narrating about daily tasks, the staff, the main wing, as though trying to lighten the mood, or at least make it normal.
Then suddenly her voice's tone changed. It became dark, as though a strange weight inhabited her words.
She looked at Victoria with almost frightening eyes and said in a low voice, as though recounting something no one dared repeat:
"There's a maid in the main wing... disappeared for three days, then her body was found behind the estate near the food storage."
Victoria immediately stopped walking, and her features filled with fear. Her hand trembled slightly, and she retreated a step backward, like a small girl facing something unbearable:
"Wh... what was the cause? And what was her name?" she asked in a low voice, trying to appear natural, though her heart beat rapidly.
Rebecca answered in a heavy tone as though conveying a dark secret:
"Perhaps she was meeting someone at night... so she went to the forest, and bandits attacked and killed her... her name was Kayla."
Victoria's features froze; she felt cold coursing through her body, but despite her fear, she continued walking toward the garden, trying to control her terror, while Rebecca returned to her work inside the estate, as though nothing had happened.
Inside Victoria, tension escalated more and more:
"This is why Griffin insisted on following the Cardinal's letters...
Kayla... one of Shafir's spies...
Impossible... could her body be a reminder for me?"
Victoria returned to the garden carrying the teapot. She stood at a respectful distance from the three, as befitting a maid, poured tea into cups gently, then retreated a step backward to give them space.
The sun filtered through the tree leaves, painting golden spots on the tea table set up in the garden's heart. The three men sat with comfortable elegance: Daniel Devon with his imposing stature and calm smile, Theodore with his handsome face and piercing eyes, and Lyomord who sat with a straight back, his blindfolded eyes not concealing his sharp features.
Victoria stood at a close distance, hands clasped before her politely, eyes watching the table in case anyone needed something. She heard their light laughter, their comfortable conversation about old days, shared childhood memories.
Until Daniel suddenly said, without turning to her: "Miss Marsh, why do you stand there like a statue?"
Theodore turned with curiosity, and Lyomord smiled a slight smile.
Daniel continued in a warm tone: "Come, sit with us. You're not a maid here now, but a guest."
Victoria hesitated: "But Your Grace, I..."
"Sit." He said it with gentle firmness and pointed to the empty chair beside Lyomord.
She advanced slowly and sat carefully, her back straight, hands on her lap. She felt the scene's strangeness... she, a simple maid, sitting with three of the kingdom's most powerful men.
Daniel pushed a small plate toward her, filled with pieces of luxurious sweets: pastries with pistachios and honey, cream-filled cakes, chocolate pieces adorned with edible gold.
"Try them. Made especially for this occasion."
Victoria looked at the plate hesitantly, then took a small piece of pastry. She bit into it carefully.
And the world stopped.
It was... magnificent. The honey melted on her tongue, the ground pistachios were incredibly creamy, and the dough light as a cloud. She'd never tasted anything like this before. Yes, she'd worked for nobles and wealthy merchants, but this... this was on an entirely different level.
She tried not to show her astonishment, but her eyes widened slightly, and her hand paused in the air a second longer than it should.
Theodore noticed.
He smiled a sideways smile, then slowly pushed his own plate toward her. It was still full.
He said with feigned indifference: "Take it. I'm not a sweets lover anyway."
Victoria looked at him in astonishment: "But Your Highness..."
"I'm not hungry." He interrupted in a firm tone, but in his eyes something gentler. "And it would be unfortunate to waste it."
From the other side, Lyomord said in a sarcastic tone: "Theodore, you're lying. I remember you used to steal my share of sweets when we were children."
Daniel laughed quietly: "He stole all our shares."
Theodore's face reddened slightly, but he didn't withdraw the plate. Rather, he pushed it more toward Victoria with silent stubbornness.
Victoria looked at the plate, then at him, then at the sweets again.
Then, with a small shy smile, she whispered: "Thank you, Your Highness."
She took another piece, and this time didn't try to hide her enjoyment.
And for one moment, in that sun-drenched garden, among three men carrying the kingdom's heaviest titles... Victoria felt something strange.
Suddenly, Theodore posed an innocent question:
"By the way, Leo... how old is this maid of yours? She looks very young!"
Leo looked at Theodore with nearly frozen eyes and answered calmly:
"I don't know."
Daniel smiled lightly and said jokingly:
"This is why no one likes you—you show no interest in what surrounds you."
Leo didn't respond; instead, he rose quickly, saying in a tone nearly an order:
"Victoria!! Let's return now, and expel these two from here—visiting time is over."
Victoria stood for a moment, her eyes gleaming with compliance, then obeyed lightly, maintaining her calm, while the two remained watching from afar.
On the way, Lyomord held Victoria's hand for her to guide him.
He asked her: "Are you young as Theodore said?"
She answered: "Mmm... I'm not young—I've reached the age of majority—but I'm short in stature."
He interrupted sarcastically: "I know you're short. You might be the shortest person I've known, which is why there's no difference between you and my cane."
Victoria remained calm, but inside she wanted to let him stumble. (No, Victoria, remember you need him now more than ever.) she whispered to herself.
That evening...
Everyone was having dinner in the great hall. Victoria stood beside Lyomord, whispering descriptions of the dishes to him.
Theodore sat opposite them, seeming to listen to Daniel's conversation, but his eyes slipped toward her every few minutes.
When she laughed at something Lyomord said in a low voice, Theodore stopped chewing for a second.
Daniel asked him: "Theodore, are you all right?"
He blinked, then nodded quickly: "Yes. Just... thinking about something."
But his eyes returned to her once more...
After Daniel remained at Ashford Duchy for more than a week, he decided to depart. And before leaving, he approached Victoria and said in a quiet voice with a light smile:
"Have you decided your wish, miss? You've won the wager."
Victoria smiled a warm smile and looked at him with honest eyes:
"I want protection from Devon Duchy, my lord."
Daniel answered calmly, as though his words carried appreciation for her intelligence:
"Had I been myself a week ago, I would have asked why...
But now I can tell you're no ordinary maid. And I like extraordinary things."
Finally, after all this pressure for more than a week, that curious Duke departed for his lands, and the estate returned to its quietness.
Even Cardinal Shafir remained silent.
Victoria thought with relief: Perhaps I can relax a little and...
"Victoria!"
Or perhaps not.
"Coming, my lord!" she responded quickly.
When she entered, Lyomord said in a calm but firm tone:
"Bring me the letters and read them to me."
"Yes, my lord."
She whispered to herself as she left: (It seems someone has moved past the idea of death... hehe.)
She returned carrying a stack of letters and sat on the edge of his bed.
She opened the first:
"The first letter is from a cloth merchant, requesting your approval to begin receiving shipment from the West."
Lyomord said with no interest: "Leave it, not important currently."
She opened the second:
"The second letter is from Count Alucard, asking about you because you didn't attend his son Johnson's wedding."
Lyomord was puzzled for a moment, then laughed sarcastically:
"Isn't his son one-eyed? Did he bribe a girl to accept him?"
He paused, then asked her with curiosity:
"Do you know how he lost his eye?"
She answered with complete calm: "No, my lord."
He continued in a sarcastic tone:
"It's said assassins attacked him, so he defended himself and killed them... but lost his eye in the battle."
He laughed with contempt:
"Heh... who would believe that? That wretch fears his own shadow."
Victoria laughed lightly, then whispered to herself with a mischievous smile:
(If only you knew... I'm the one who gouged out his eye when I worked for them.)