A drenched-looking Kione took long strides towards his mansion; he still managed to stay appealing despite being wet and having some strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. The servants quickly bowed when they saw him.
The butler, Merle, appeared at the door to help him out of his wet coat, handing him a new folded towel.
"Welcome back, Master Kione." Greeted the butler.
"Mm. Where are they?" Kione asked as he started walking further into the mansion.
Even without emphasizing who he was referring to, Merle answered, "Lord Rafferty and Lady Meredith have set out to pay a visit to their friend, Whittaker."
"Is there anything else you want to say?" His eyes caught on to the troubled look on Merle's face.
"Yes. Miss Olivia arrived some minutes ago, insisting on seeing you. Sh—"
"Where is she?" Kione inquired.
"The drawing room, sire. I already sent a maid to attend to her." Informed the butler to his master.
"Then keep doing what you are doing." He raised his head, ready to start climbing the flight of stairs, when he caught sight of a shadow hiding in a corner, and a devilish, lopsided smile appeared on his lips.
"Mother would certainly be pleased to know I'm accommodating a homeless child." He remarked.
A silent gruff came from behind the wall where the shadow stood, but Kione heard it.
Merle did not react to his master's words as if he were already used to them.
"There is a homeless kid in the mansion?" The woman's words were laced with disgust, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she waltzed towards Kione while pretending not to have been listening to their conversation a minute ago.
Kione said, "Yes. These days, people can't help but stay past their time of welcome in my house. And Merle here was just telling me how he was taking care of one in my drawing room."
His eyes shifted from the vampiress to the butler, whose mouth had fallen agape at his master's words, and Olivia glared at Merle.
Poor Merle. He wondered why the mistress was suddenly making him her target when the person she should be directing it to was his master.
"Sire, I would take my leave now." Merle asked, hoping he could get away from them.
"Not yet, Merle. Since you allowed Miss Olivia inside, it's your duty to see her out when she decides she has a home to go." He articulated in a dead tone before starting to climb the stairs.
Olivia's eyes zeroed in on Kione's back with a look of hurt in her eyes. "You are so mean!" She blurted out, angry tears forming in her eyes.
Just before Kione entered the second flight of stairs, he heard the mistress sniffle, but he couldn't care less. Meanwhile, Olivia was furious at him; she threw a look at Merle before leaving.
Merle huffed a relief sigh, thankful that their crossfire didn't burn him too much. He had always known his master to be frustrating to the mistress, but she never seemed to learn her lesson.
He shook his head before moving out of his spot.
In Kione's study room, he sat behind the table with a relaxed demeanor, and he was no longer wearing the wet clothes he came in with; rather, he was dressed in all black.
With a black dress shirt and black trouser pants, along with his long black hair that complemented his outfit, he looked no less than a handsome devil. A tiny stick sat between his lips as his eyes moved along the lines of words on the parchment that he held.
Not too long afterward, there was a light knock on his door before it was opened. Merle walked in with a maid, who held a tray that held a glass carrying a red substance in it, trailing behind him.
Once the maid had left, Merle informed, "Mr. Craig dropped off the paperwork you asked for." Handing the paper to Kione, who hummed in approval after checking it.
"You can leave."
After finishing reading the parchment, he stood up and took a stroll towards the window.
He dug his hand into his trouser pants to retrieve three strands of golden hair, and his eyes stared at it longer. They weren't just golden; there was a speck of glow at their tips.
When Kione reached home during the night he saved Belle, just as he was about to take off his clothes, his eyes found the strands of hair that were stuck to his dress shirt.
Golden locks, which definitely belong to the bunny. Other than their bright color, it was the shimmer in them that caught his attention.
Back in Lasburgh, Belle and Zack had arrived home, but as they all sat around the table, nobody made any move to start talking.
Philippa only stared at the girl in front of her, not because she didn't have anything to say but because she hadn't expected Zachariah's words to be so true. She had expected it to be overly exaggerated.
The attention she might call to herself by taking Belle back with her was something she would manage. Philippa thought.
Though she had tried to keep a close tab on Edward's family, like he would have wanted, she hadn't seen his daughter up close.
"So are you really my grandaunt? Why haven't I seen you before?" Belle inquired, trying to get more information about the woman in front of her.
"No, I'm not." Philippa replied blatantly. "I am a friend of your father's."
"Then why are you showing up now?" Belle didn't try to hold back her words, as she might never get a second chance to ask them.
For the first time, the older woman smiled. "I wasn't safe, and neither were you. One wrong move, and all of us would have been dead." Her voice lowered an octave as she added, "I promised Edward to help you live freely, not die hopelessly."
Though Philippa said to help her live freely, they all knew the meaning of her last words, as death was inevitable at some point.
"What do you want exactly?"
Philippa didn't see any need to beat around the bush. She said, "I want to take you back with me."
Belle's eyes shifted away from the woman to look at her Uncle Zack, who only nodded in approval. There was no doubt the elders were going to get her approval; at least that's what they thought until Belle announced,
"No. I'm already safe here; I don't see any reason why I should live with you."
Philippa sighed at her response. 'Now I will just have to use my last card. Edward.' Philippa thought to herself.