Janet’s question came like someone prodding a dangerous object from a distance.

At that prick, Liana thought she might burst apart.

“…What’s it to you if you know?”

“Don’t tell me—you slept with the master?”

Liana could not hide her expression. She knew she should conceal it, yet the emotions she had not managed to bury stirred too easily.

“Is it true?”

“…No.”

She averted her gaze, denying it. Saying no would not erase what had happened—but perhaps it could smooth over the storm that would follow.

But Janet strode forward and seized the hem of her skirt.

Liana flinched, recoiling instinctively.

“What do you think you’re doing!”

“Checking.”

“Checking what?”

“Whether you did or didn’t.”

Janet’s hands, full of malice, clawed at her, yanking at her skirt and arms, trying to tear her clothes aside. Rage from the previous night festered in her spiteful grip.

“Let go!”

Liana shoved her hard, and Janet stumbled back, striking the wall.

And in that instant, a thought pierced her mind.

Why had she not pushed Shed away like this last night, when he came to her?

Why hadn’t she shouted no?

Why hadn’t she rejected him outright—an engaged man, bound to another?

Because he was a Lupus in rut? Because she was afraid, because she knew she could not overpower him?

She knew those reasons alone could not explain it.

Last night—she had wanted him.

The moment that first searing pain tore through her, she should have fled.

But pain turned to pleasure in an instant.

Before she could run, agony had been devoured by a fierce and consuming ecstasy.

She was a child of heretical blood, well-accustomed to enduring pain.

But pleasure—and desire—were things she had never learned to withstand.

Each time his massive body loosed a low, satisfied groan, her own body shivered in answer.

Unbearable desire had crushed and overwhelmed her. His scent, flowing in with the heated air, spread like mist, clouding her mind white.

That sensation was too vivid—too confusing.

And so, before the money Giselle had cast before her, she could not stand proud, nor cry injustice, nor even summon anger.

Meanwhile, Janet, startled that Liana had resisted her so roughly when she was usually unresponsive, furrowed her brow once more.

“You wretch!”

Perhaps thinking it was just as well, Janet rolled up her sleeves and lunged at Liana.

But then—someone seized Janet’s wrist in a firm grip.

“Ah!”

Janet turned in shock. Greeta stood there.

Towering at nearly 190 centimeters, her solid frame and the quiet menace that clung to her presence made resistance impossible. No matter how Janet struggled, her hand would not budge from Greeta’s grasp.

Greta only shook her head silently, eyes fixed on Janet.

“I—I was only trying to make sure nothing bad had happened to her! I was worried, that’s all…!”

Janet stammered excuses, but Greeta’s fingers tightened on her wrist.

“Ugh!”

The strength drained from Janet’s hand at once. Only when she released Liana did Greeta let go as well.

Greeta’s brow remained faintly furrowed as she held Janet in her gaze.

“I told you—I was only worried about her!”

Clutching her sore wrist, Janet shouted angrily, then stormed out of the room.

Liana stood frozen in place, left behind.

Then Greeta turned her steady eyes on her.

“…I’m sorry.”

Greeta tilted her head, as if to ask what she had to apologize for.

“For troubling you.”

Greeta shook her head in quiet denial.

Liana turned back toward the mirror.

Her carefully composed appearance was ruined. The hair she had combed flat and neat was disheveled again. The fresh maid’s uniform she had pressed smooth was rumpled.

It felt as though everything mocked her effort to look whole.

Her lips pressed tight, her head lowered.

Then—a cautious hand adjusted her scarf, tucking it back into place.

Liana flinched, startled, but Greeta only gave her a gentle pat.

For all her imposing appearance, her touch was delicate, careful.

And Liana realized she was doing her utmost to comfort her.

The moment she understood that, she felt tears threaten to spill.

If she dared to say thank you, they would surely break loose. So she sealed her lips tightly shut.

“Tomorrow… we’ll be able to leave, right?”

Liana’s voice trembled as she asked. Greeta nodded.

Yes. That was enough.

Tomorrow, Shed would depart on the heretic hunt. Liana repeated that truth to herself, steadying her heart.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

At dawn, Shed stood by the window, gazing out through the misted glass.

Faradel’s skies, usually clear, were overcast for the first time in a long while. Not the fleeting fog of early morning, but a heavy haze that dulled the air for the entire day.

A light drizzle pattered against the windowpanes, forming thin rivulets that ran downwards.

As the Faradel sun cooled against the raindrops, the feverish heat that had lingered in his body finally faded, too.

It had lasted only a single night.

Now, his mind was filled with tangled thoughts.

Since Giselle had stormed out in a fit of rage, he had been left to wrestle with his feelings, turning them over in his mind again and again until he came to a firm conclusion.

He was tied to Liana Serpens — or rather, Luise Ideana.

His body had never stirred at the sight of Giselle or any other woman, but it ignited at the slightest hint of Luise’s scent, the slightest breath from her lips, or the slightest flicker of her gaze.

Doubt crept in.

Was he in a rut, responding only to one woman? A bond mark.

‘Impossible.’

Such a bond could only form if certain conditions were met. This was his first experience of this. He had never attempted the ritual before.

Confusion gnawed at him. Fear, too.

What if part of her reminded him that he was a beast? What if she revealed his true nature?

How had it come to this?

When he saw her again, his purpose had been clear: revenge.

He sought revenge against the Ideanas for slaughtering his brothers and comrades. He also sought vengeance against Luise Ideana for betraying him. And yet… somewhere along the way, he had lost the path.

‘Did I truly want revenge? When just the way you look at me leaves me in such torment?’

Then—

“Your Grace. May I enter?”

A knock, followed by that calm voice, sent a shiver racing down his spine.

Shed turned at once.

It was Liana. She had come to him.

Why? For what reason? Had she no intention of avoiding him?

He was confused.

And yet, somewhere deep in his heart, a shard of light broke through.

Had she seen it too—the pleasure he had felt, the joy, the emotion he dared to think might even be called love?

The fact that she had come to him first—could it mean…?

Click.

The handle turned, and the door opened.

Shed stood frozen at the window, unable to tear his gaze away.

A dim morning, overcast skies, a chamber lit by a single lantern.

Liana stepped inside, carrying a water jug and folded towels, her footsteps calm and steady as always.

His lips were parched.

But then—

“I’ve brought water and a towel, Your Grace.”

Her voice was dry, steady. She went about her task like any maid would, replacing the water, setting out the linens.

Her motions were as plain, as dull, as stripped of emotion as routine itself.

Shed watched her from where he stood.

Last night felt like a dream.

The memory that had been etched so violently into him now seemed ripped away, vanished as if it had never happened.

“The skies are gray today, so I brought a few extra candles. I’ve kept the water warm, so…”

“Liana Serpens.”

If not for the white scarf wrapped around her neck, he might truly have believed it had all been a dream.

“What are you doing right now?”

His fists clenched at her calm facade.

Even if she didn’t share his emotions, he could have accepted that.

Even if she felt their opposites—anger, hatred, disgust, contempt, fear—he was prepared.

But this woman…

“I don’t understand what you mean, Your Grace.”

“Ha…?”

Her face was void of feeling as she raised her lids, answering with parched indifference.

For a moment, Shed had no words.

Before he could speak again, Liana bowed her head.

“If you have no further orders, I will take my leave, Your Grace.”

With her empty jug and tray in hand, she bowed and turned for the door.

“Stop.”

His voice cut like ice into her back.

But her steps did not slow. She walked toward the door.

“I ordered you to stop, Liana Serpens.”

At the sharper edge in his tone, her feet stilled at the threshold.

Yet she did not turn back.

Heat surged in his skull—not the blaze of rut, but another fire entirely.

He strode toward her, seized her, and spun her around.

The maid who had finished her duty looked up at him with dry, indifferent eyes. Like some statue turned to stone by meeting the gaze of a mythical beast—expressionless, unfeeling.

Shed’s thoughts tangled in confusion.

“…You have nothing to say?”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Your Grace.”

She repeated the same words like a parrot.

His lips twisted.

“…Do you think if you brazen it out, everything will cease to exist?”

His hand pulled at the scarf tied around her neck.

“If you pretend not to know, do these marks vanish?”

The scarf slipped away far too easily, revealing the flushed marks beneath.

On her pale neck, the marks burned vividly and rawly — the undeniable brand of last night.

At last, her eyes flickered with emotion.

‘See? You give yourself away so easily.’

Only then did her reaction satisfy him.