A few days had passed, and the amount of paperwork Claire had to manage seemed to grow by the day. The problems with the lord's estate were like the tip of an iceberg—the tax issues were only the beginning. Beneath that, far more complex challenges waited to be unraveled. The longer she worked, the deeper the mess became.
Seth had been silently watching Claire work tirelessly from his desk. He admired her enthusiasm and determination, even though it was clear she was being pushed to her limit. Claire was focused on addressing the tax issues first, working long hours into the night. The toll on her was becoming more obvious—dark circles formed under her eyes from sleeping only four hours a night, and she had lost her appetite entirely. She barely had the time—or energy—to eat, as her mind was consumed by the mountain of tasks before her.
From time to time, Claire would glance up from her work, shooting irritated looks at Seth, who sat calmly, smiling faintly, entertained by her hard work. The sight of him so relaxed while she was drowning in paperwork made her want to scream.
How can he be so calm while I'm dealing with all of this? she thought, gritting her teeth. Her exhaustion was written all over her face, and the weight of the task was wearing her down.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Claire groaned and slumped over her desk. "My lord, have mercy on me. Let me take a break for just a moment," she said, her voice heavy with fatigue.
Seth leaned back in his chair, his smile still playing at the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied smoothly. "Take your rest."
Claire put her head down on her desk, allowing herself a brief nap. Even so, her mind refused to settle, and her thoughts kept racing over the tasks still left undone.
I have to fix this, she told herself, her brother's image flashing in her mind. I can't afford to fail—not with Clark's life at stake.
Seth understood how close to the edge Claire was. She was tirelessly working to solve the estate's tax crisis. In truth, he could have easily issued a decree to forgive all past taxes and debts, but he refrained. He trusted Claire's abilities—her sharp mind and her dedication. Seth believed she would find a way to resolve the mess without his direct intervention, even though he could sense the weight it was putting on her.
Deciding to give her some space, Seth stood and left his desk, feeling the need to stretch his legs. He wandered out into the garden, letting the summer heat wash over him. The warm breeze carried the subtle scent of blooming flowers, and the soft hum of bees filled the air as they buzzed around the blossoms.
The gazebo in the garden looked inviting, and Seth walked over to it, taking a seat in the shade. His gaze traveled over the flowers, admiring their vibrant colors, while bees flitted from petal to petal, collecting nectar. The peacefulness of the garden was a welcome reprieve from the estate's chaos. For a brief moment, Seth allowed himself to relax, leaning back in his seat.
His casual noble attire complemented the day's easy atmosphere. His tunic, made of fine, cream-colored silk, was lined with subtle gold embroidery at the collar and cuffs. A dark belt cinched his waist, and tailored trousers added to his understated elegance. Despite the warmth of the day, Seth still wore his blindfold, keeping the flames within him in check.
As he watched the bees hovering near the flowers, his mind drifted to Aiden.
I wonder how Aiden is doing, he mused. The journey to Port Mayne could take a week or more, depending on the conditions.
Seth sighed, his thoughts momentarily clouded by concern. I hope he's doing okay. He allowed himself to rest fully, closing his eyes as the gentle summer breeze lulled him into a light sleep.
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Not long after Seth had drifted off, a figure stealthily entered the garden. Dressed in sleek black attire, the man's long coat, made of thick animal fur, hung from his shoulders, casting shadows as he moved. His presence was as silent as the breeze, slipping through the garden unnoticed by anyone—or anything.
Killian approached the gazebo, his sharp gaze falling on Seth, who was slumbering peacefully. The sunlight bathed Seth's pale skin, making his white hair shimmer faintly under the glow. Without making a sound, Killian took a seat opposite the lord, watching him intently.
There was something captivating about seeing Seth like this—so unguarded, so vulnerable. The sight stirred conflicting feelings within Killian.
So defenseless, he thought. His gaze lingered on the blindfold. Killian found himself wanting to remove it, just because he felt annoyed by it.
Unable to resist the temptation, he reached forward, brushing a strand of Seth's white hair away from his face. His fingers lingered on the soft strands, and for a brief moment, Killian marveled at the lord's serene expression. He was fascinated by this man who had been occupying his thoughts more and more lately.
I hate him, Killian told himself. But his actions contradicted the words in his mind. If he hated Seth so much, why couldn't he stay away?
Playfully, he pinched Seth's cheek, smirking as the lord's face scrunched up in his sleep. Killian continued to poke and prod at him, finding amusement in Seth's reactions. But despite his antics, the lord remained asleep, undisturbed.
It wasn't until Killian sensed another presence nearby that he stopped.
Royfield had returned after finishing his business within the estate and was searching for the lord. When he didn't find him in the castle, he made his way to the garden. As he approached the gazebo, he immediately spotted Killian, sitting far too comfortably across from the sleeping lord.
Royfield cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Pardon my intrusion," he said, his voice steady but firm. "I must ask you not to handle the lord's face so carelessly."
Killian looked up, unbothered by the butler's appearance. "Ah, the loyal dog of the lord is here," he said with a smirk, leaning back in his seat. "I'm always amazed at how well you hide your presence."
Royfield raised an eyebrow. "It is a necessary skill to serve my master effectively."
Killian wasn't surprised. He had always suspected there was more to Royfield than met the eye. A barony like Arlecia couldn't have survived all this time without someone powerful pulling the strings behind the scenes. Royfield's calm demeanor only solidified that theory.
"I must remind you, Guild Leader," Royfield continued, "to use the proper entrance next time. The gates are made for entry, not the walls."
Killian chuckled softly. "Sneaking in is far more enjoyable. Besides, it shows just how lax the castle's security still is."
Royfield's voice dropped slightly. "Then perhaps I'll ensure it's not so easy next time. I have my ways of handling intruders."
The tension between the two men was palpable, thickening the air around them. Killian's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Is that so? I'll look forward to it."
Before the situation could escalate, Seth's voice interrupted the tension. "Royfield, enough. You're disturbing my peaceful nap."
Royfield immediately bowed in apology. "My deepest apologies, my lord."
Killian's gaze shifted to Seth, who was now stirring awake. His attire was loose and casual, leaving much of his pale chest exposed. For a brief moment, Killian felt his cheeks flush, and he quickly looked away, embarrassed by his reaction.
Seth, unaware of Killian's discomfort, casually addressed him. "So, what brings you here today, Guild Leader?"
The formality in Seth's voice surprised Killian, creating a distance between them he hadn't expected—and didn't like it.
Without a word, Killian tossed a sealed scroll toward Seth, who caught it effortlessly. "This is the arrangement for your meeting with the Merchant Guild. Next Friday, at my office."
Seth passed the scroll to Royfield without looking at it, leaving Killian feeling a strange sense of disappointment. "I was hoping to witness something magical," Killian said, half-joking. "Like watching you read a scroll through that blindfold."
Seth smirked. "I can sense objects around me, but I can't read through it."
Killian raised an eyebrow. "Then why wear it? Your fashion sense is terrible."
Seth chuckled. "Says the man wearing a fur coat in summer."
Killian, impressed, narrowed his eyes. "How do you even know what I'm wearing? Very suspicious."
Their banter flowed easily, a mix of teasing and familiarity. Royfield, standing silently nearby, observed the exchange. The lord was more expressive than he had ever been before. The old lord was gone—of that, Royfield was sure.
Seth looked at Killian with a sly smile. "Care to stay for dinner?"
Killian shook his head, refusing. "No, I'll pass."
Seth sighed, clearly trying to convince him. "A shame. I'll be dining alone—it gets awfully lonely."
Moving closer, Seth whispered into Killian's ear. "I hear you enjoy Vasce's vintage wine. I happen to have some. Are you really going to pass that up?"
Killian's annoyance flared. That wine's impossible to get, he thought. He glared at Seth, knowing exactly what he was doing—and hating that it was working.
"Fine," Killian muttered. "But only for the wine. Don't get the wrong idea."
Seth laughed, warm and genuine. "Got it." He turned to Royfield. "Notify the kitchen to prepare for dinner."
Taking Killian's hand, Seth pulled him along. "We've got time before dinner. How about a tour of the castle?"
Killian rolled his eyes but played along. "Oh, I feel so honored, Lord Arlecia."
With a smile, Seth led the way, showing Killian around the castle as their playful banter continued.