Deborah's POV
After days of quiet observation, I had gradually pieced together Chad's schedule.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, he visited Father's office right on time for his routine report. Each time he came, he was meticulous, polite to a fault, and always left with the same quiet composure, walking past me with a restrained yet respectful demeanor.
But I was never permitted to enter Father's office, left unaware of what they discussed behind closed doors.
Today was Friday, the day Chad would report to him.
I knew this might be my chance to get closer to him.
When he finally emerged from Father's office, looking slightly fatigued as he made his way toward the palace doors, I followed at a careful distance. Only when he was nearing the main entrance did I call out, "Hello, Chad."
He turned, a fleeting expression of surprise crossing his face, only to quickly mask it with calm professionalism as he offered a slight bow. "Hello, Miss Edwards."
I gave a polite smile, feigned casual interest. "I wonder if I might have the pleasure of inviting you out for a drink?"
Clearly, Chad hadn't expected my invitation. His eyes flickered with a trace of uncertainty before he regained his composure, bowing again as he gestured with perfect formality. "Of course, Miss Edwards. Please, allow me to lead the way."
We walked side by side out of the palace, heading toward the car park with him leading the way. The atmosphere between us was tense, like a taut string, and an unfamiliar discomfort hung in the air, unspoken yet palpable.
At the car, Chad opened the back door for me with precise, almost rehearsed courtesy. Once I was seated, he moved around to the driver's seat, quietly assuming the role of chauffeur.
Inside the car, the silence was overwhelming.
Through the rearview mirror, I observed his unwavering posture, his eyes downcast. A sigh escaped me, barely audible.
This rigid sense of hierarchy between us was like an unscalable wall. Any chance of breaking through to his true thoughts seemed to slip further away, leaving me feeling like a mere observer outside his firmly closed doors.
After a long silence, Chad finally spoke, his voice carefully measured. "Miss Edwards, we could perhaps visit one of Mr Edwards' favored restaurants. I believe you'll find the ambiance agreeable."
"Isn't there somewhere you frequent?" I asked lightly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "Preferably somewhere Father wouldn't go." I allowed a touch of impatience to color my tone, hoping he might lower his guard with this frankness. "Honestly, I hardly know Father at all. We've only just…reconnected, and it's not something I'm exactly thrilled about."
Chad paused, the briefest hint of understanding flashing in his eyes. With a slight nod, he replied, "Understood, Miss Edwards."
He then directed the car toward the edge of the city.
We navigated through a series of busy streets before stopping outside a small, modest restaurant tucked away on a quiet side road. Unassuming to the point of being easily overlooked, the place had an air of understated simplicity. Its worn wooden tables, faded landscape paintings, and warm lighting created a welcoming atmosphere—a place where the ordinary found comfort, where masks were unnecessary.
Chad exited the car first, circling around to open my door, maintaining his polished manner.
Following his lead, I stepped inside the restaurant, yet I felt no closer to him. His polite reserve was, if anything, more pronounced, his demeanor respectful but distant.
The few patrons spoke in hushed tones, adding to the restaurant's tranquil charm.
In contrast, Chad seemed out of place here, his composure almost rigid, as if he were bracing himself against the casual environment. With meticulous care, he led me to a table by the window, waiting until I was seated before taking his own place opposite.
I watched him subtly, searching for a way in, a vulnerability that might allow me past his defenses. But Chad's calm smile never wavered, giving away nothing. His eyes held a quiet reserve, wholly unlike the intensity he displayed in his duties.
It struck me that he was avoiding eye contact, deliberately keeping his gaze from mine, as if to avoid my Telepathy or Domination.
"Do you come here often?" I asked, breaking the silence with a smile.
"Yes, Miss Edwards," he replied politely, his gaze shifting momentarily. "It's close to my home, and the food is quite good."
I nodded, pressing gently. "So… how long have you worked with my father?"
Chad seemed taken aback by the question, pausing briefly before answering. "Over twenty years."
Twenty years… and yet, he was only thirty-six. Had he been serving the Edwards family since his teens, perhaps even earlier?
For sixteen years, he and I had been together.
And yet I had never known he worked for the Edwards family all that time.
Regret and bitterness swelled within me.
Still, Chad offered no more than the bare facts, steering clear of any personal insights or emotion.
A waitress approached, greeting Chad with a warm familiarity that made it clear he was a regular here, known to both the owner and staff.
We each ordered a coffee, and silence once again settled between us.
It was evident that Chad wasn't one for small talk. He kept to his role, guarded and composed, as if prepared to retreat into the safety of being merely an "assistant."
I sighed inwardly, realizing it would take more than casual conversation to make him drop his defenses.
Compared to the Edwards family's palace, this felt like a different world. There, I was always on edge, every muscle tense, wary of revealing anything, always vigilant for scraps of useful information. Here, though, I could almost breathe freely. The atmosphere was relaxed, my senses uncoiled, each breath carrying a strange, new lightness. Chad and I had chosen a seat by the window, the view outside painting a picture of the city beyond.
Through the window, the sight of Ablach bore an eerie resemblance to my memories of Hybrasil.
And yet Ablach was unmistakably more advanced, its streets alive with orderly mechanical vehicles, buildings gleaming with modern sheen, the people walking with brisk purpose, a world of seamless efficiency.
But it lacked the ease of Hybrasil. An undercurrent of tension permeated the air, creating a pressure that weighed heavily, settling into my bones.
I turned my gaze back to Chad.
He looked cold and distant, as though every expression was hidden beneath a mask, completely different from the Chad I once knew.
Once, I'd believed he was my lover, the one person I could trust.
He had always seemed so at ease around me then, so natural, that I had never questioned his identity—until he betrayed me, until the day I died by his hand and learned the truth: he was nothing more than a spy for the Edwards family.
Now, he seemed like a mere puppet, hollow and mechanical, entirely under Lugh's control, his movements programmed, devoid of any warmth or autonomy.
This transformation stirred a sense of revulsion in me, along with a powerful wariness of his presence.
Lowering my gaze, I took a sip of tea, then spoke in a testing tone, "Could you tell me more about my father? I'd like to know him better."
He hesitated, clearly reluctant. "That may not be…"
I cut him off with a quiet laugh. "What are you afraid of? Surely Father knows I'd invite you out to gather information?"
He fell silent for a moment, as though conceding, before responding, "What would you like to know?"
I shrugged, aiming for a casual air. "Anything, really. As his child, I should know something about his background. Tell me about his family—his wife, perhaps? Other children? My siblings?" I gestured lightly, trying to seem at ease. "The last few days, I've only seen Father, yourself, a few servants, and doctors—no one else."
Chad shook his head, his tone level as he replied, "To my knowledge, Mr Edwards never married anyone other than your mother, and there are no other children."
His answer brought a slight sense of relief. At least this aligned with what I already knew, reinforcing the security of my position in the Edwards family—and the power it gave me.
I paused, then ventured another question, "Did you know my mother? I barely even know her true name."
At this, Chad's expression softened a little, as if he were recalling a memory. After a brief silence, he replied, "I met your mother, Mrs Mavis Blackwood, when I was a teenager. She hadn't yet conceived you then."
So, before I was born… over twenty-three years ago.
"Oh? Did she have a happy life in Ablach?" I asked gently, curiosity about her life filling my mind.
Chad said nothing, lowering his gaze as he took a quiet sip of his coffee, unwilling to elaborate.
His silence confirmed a suspicion that had been forming in my mind—Maeve's life beside Lugh might not have been as idyllic as I'd imagined.
It was no surprise she might have tried to escape.
I allowed myself a faint smile, then asked in a lighter tone, "Do you think my father loves me?"
He looked at me, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes as he answered, "What you see is what you get."
From his words, I sensed a deeper meaning.
At least outwardly, it seemed Lugh had always shown an intense concern and longing for me, a sentiment shared by those close to him—a man searching ceaselessly for his long-lost daughter. It appeared his devotion was accepted as truth among his followers.
I nodded thoughtfully, a memory stirring from my last encounter with Chad near the outskirts of Murias. "The last time at the entrance to Murias…"